A searing recollection of one woman’s coming of age and her search for the reasons why after growing up among the jagged shards of a broken family
With a controlled writing style and measured pacing, Emily Brown’s Momentum is a devastating story of a childhood unmoored and an adulthood spent seeking a sense of attachment.
Her uncle’s celebration of life is the catalyst for Brown’s last ditch effort to understand her parents and reconcile the fall-out of their divorce on their family. How did her paternal uncle foster such a close-knit, loving, and supportive clan while her father didn’t? Is there any way to come back from decades of lost time, emotional distance, and parental disregard and foster a happier, healthier family?
As the youngest of four children born to Saul and Zella, a Southern California psychiatrist and his wife, it’s easy to assume Brown lived a charmed life. Instead, her parents’ marriage broke up and the family shattered completely, with the children being split up too. Her adolescence was marked by frequent moves and a mother who made it clear that not just marriage but motherhood took a serious toll on her, while her dad remarried and built a new, more private life with his second wife.
All Brown wanted was the happy and engaged family dynamic her friends appeared to enjoy. And when that wasn’t meant to be, she learned to adapt. Describing her teenage belief that this was her “one true talent,” Brown leaned into it—and it’s clear this ability not only protected her but propelled her forward in life. She learned quickly how to manage her mother’s sudden changes of heart that forced early independence. Multiple moves to new homes, neighborhoods, and schools made any kind of stability and strong social relationships nearly impossible, until Brown arrived at college. The activist culture of Berkeley in the 1970s gave her a sense of belonging, and she dove right in. And while it didn’t last, it did lead her to Tony, her husband, and guided her eventual career path.
In the years that followed graduation from Berkeley, a roller coaster of ups and downs gives Brown opportunity after opportunity to flex that ability to adapt through international travel to Guatemala and Hungary before the fall of the Soviet Union, marriage and relocation to Canada, motherhood, career disruptions, and of course, the push and pull of familial relationships with her parents, stepmother, step-brothers, and siblings. Through it all, Brown holds tight to her sense of self, even when old family truths are laid bare for her.
Brown’s recollections are consistently clear-eyed and retold with an objectivity that makes some interactions, especially those with her mother, even more crushing to read; Zella’s indifference to her children, and her youngest child, in particular, is stunning. Some of the transitions among sections feel disjointed, such as when Tony suddenly reveals to Brown what really happened when his mom traveled internationally with Zella; it’s easy to feel equally bewildered with what to do with that information now, but it also perfectly illustrates that Zella’s attitude wasn’t limited only to her children.
With the kind of wisdom that only comes with time and experience, Brown is clearly more charitable toward her parents and their flaws than a lot of people could be, which is a humbling realization. To accompany Brown on the journey she began after her uncle’s memorial service—sifting through painful memories and unexpected moments of caring while seeking answers about how and why her family fell apart—feels like an unexpected gift and grace, and one can only hope that she has truly found the peace she deserves.
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