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Mary Cappello - Called Back: My Reply to Cancer, My Return to Life

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Called Back: My Reply to Cancer, My Return to Life: summary, description and annotation

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Foreword Book of the Year Award
Independent Publishers Award (IPPY)
Lambda Literary Award Finalist
Publishing Triangle Award Finalist
GAMMA Award, Best Feature from The Magazine Association of the Southwest for Getting the News, The Georgia Review, Summer 2009
Notable Essay of the Year Citation in Best American Essays 2010 for Getting the News
Named one of the Best Books of the Year by the Guerilla Girls On Tour and by WILLA: Women in Literary Arts and Letters

An extended meditation on the nature of love and the nature of time inside illness, Called Back is both a narrative and non-narrative experiment in prose. The book moves through the standard breast cancer treatment trajectory (diagnosis, surgery, chemotherapy, radiation), with the aim of discovering unexpected vectors of observation, meaning and desire inside each phase of the typically mandated four-part ritual. A lyrical feminist critique of living with cancer at the turn of the twenty-first century in the United States, the book looks through the lens of cancer to discover new truths about intimacy and essential solitude, eroticism, the fact of the body, and the impossibility of turning away. Offering original exegeses of the work of Marsden Hartley, Emily Dickinson, Gertrude Stein, and Marcel Proust, Called Back relies on these artists queer aesthetics to tease the author back to life. What might a person tutored as a reader of signs see inside breast cancers paces, protocols, and regimes? What does the experience occlude, and what can we afford to liberate?
The first chapter paves the way for the books central emphases: a meditation on the nature of news and the new, on noticing, on messagesincluding those that the body itself relies upon in the assumption of diseaseand the interpretive methods we bring to them in medical crisis. Language is paramount for how we understand and act on the disease, how we imagine it, how we experience it, and how we treat it, Cappello argues.
Working at the borders of memoir, literary nonfiction, and cultural analysis, Called Back aims to displace tonal and affective norms infantilizing or moralizing, redemptive, sentimental or cutewith reverie, rage, passionate intensity, intelligence, and humor.

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Praise for Called Back Foreword Book of the Year Award Independent Publishers - photo 1

Praise forCalled Back

Foreword Book of the Year Award

Independent Publishers Award (IPPY)

Lambda Literary Award Finalist

Publishing Triangle Award Finalist

GAMMA Award, Best Feature from The Magazine
Association of the Southwest for Getting the News,
The Georgia Review, Summer 2009

Notable Essay of the Year Citation in Best American Essays 2010 for Getting the News

Named one of the Best Books of the Year by the Guerilla Girls On Tour and by WILLA: Women in Literary Arts and Letters

The momentum of Called Back derives from [Mary Cappellos] extraordinarily capacious mind: her intelligence, wit, and emotional candor; the clarity and alertness of her train of thought; the restlessness of her style. Cappello makes stunning connections between literature, art, her life, medicine, cancer. A brilliant book.

David Shields

I loved being offered the companionship of Cappellos feeling mind. I loved her insistence on taking everything in, not rushing to be healed before experience registers. I loved the precision and passion with which this book about facing mortality attends to the particulars of being aliveboth in the body and in language.

Jan Clausen

Mary Cappellos spins in Called Back are essential and compelling, each one presenting the reader with a gallery of images, the collage of a life, a feast that stretches the entire length of a Great Hall. Her wonder-filled riffs are wholly human: profane and always sacred. Called Back is a book to savor and reflect uponto read again, to keep close.

Maureen Seaton, Lambda Literary Review

The narrative of cancer has become disconcertingly familiar to us. But Mary Cappello turns the story inside-out, folds it up, and deftly re-opens it into something new and rather marvelous. This is someone who reads Proust on the gurney while waiting to be wheeled into surgery. She brings us along for the ride, and its a dizzying, discursive delight. With a bracing combination of intellectual and emotional acuity, Cappello explores the inanities and indignities of the medical establishment, the solitude and camaraderie of illness, the politics and poetics of cancer culture. Most essays are finished before theyve begun, Cappello cautions her undergraduate writing students. Her book is an essay continually striking off into unexpected terrain with giddy courage and wonderment. Called back across that grim border, Cappello brings with her a luminous gift.

Publishing Triangle Judges

Im not really fond of cancer memoirs, which have become so commonplace (like the diagnosis itself) that they constitute a genre of their own. But Mary Cappellos Called Back is in a class all by itself. Well, shes a writer after all, and she uses her own clear-sighted intelligence and razor-sharp sense of language to scrutinize the culture of breast cancer and to blaze right through it, port scar and all.

Jean Fereca, Here on Earth, Wisconsin Public Radio

Called Back

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Night Bloom

Awkward: A Detour

Swallow: Foreign Bodies, Their Ingestion, Inspiration, and the Curious Doctor Who Extracted Them

Life Breaks In: A Mood Almanack

Buffalo Trace: A Threefold Vibration (with James Morrison and Jean Walton)

Lecture

Copyright 2009 2021 Mary Cappello This book was originally published by Alyson - photo 2

Copyright 2009, 2021 Mary Cappello

This book was originally published by Alyson Books in 2009.

A version of the first chapter appeared in the Summer 2009 issue of The Georgia Review under the title Getting the News: A Signer Among Signs. The Coda appeared in the Fall 2009 issue of The Seattle Review.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meanselectronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any otherexcept for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

Fordham University Press has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

Fordham University Press also publishes its books in a variety of electronic formats. Some content that appears in print may not be available in electronic books.

Visit us online at www.fordhampress.com.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021907106

First Fordham University Press edition, 2021

For Deidre Pope, Alice Lee, Carol Sepe,
Steve Jacobson, Jon Hendrickson

their expertise and

loving care,

their laying on

of hands and words

CONTENTS

the number of events it takes to create the probable sequence

Necessary to cause a change in any persons state

Is far larger than one might think

Therefore any account of it

Must be very long

And during all that time

Reality moves around

Changing orientation

LYN HEJINIAN

A Border Comedy

I am talking here about the need for every woman to live a considered life.

AUDRE LORDE

The Cancer Journals

Called Back

God hasnt forgotten me.

Lookhe sent an illness!

Russian Proverb

at first there were only looks and very few words. I didnt even have a name, so I asked her her name, assuming that if I called her by her name, I might begin to have one.

She was the ultrasound technician who was examining an image of the inner contours of my breast on a screen. Prior to my meeting her, there had been a mammography technician who called me back into her room in the hope of gaining a better purchase on the mystery, on getting the machine to hone in, to bore down into, to see. Behind the scenes, I also knew there was a doctor. Invisible as Ozs wizard, she was planted somewhere, in an inner sanctum, reading. She was neither chewing gum nor drinking coffee in my minds eye; she wasnt leafing through the empty paragraphs of a waiting rooms magazines; she was reading, undistracted I hoped, by her love life, the pain in her left foot that was requiring an undue emphasis on the right, the impending visit from her estranged daughter, the whiff of a near nightmare shed had the night before, the matter of her refrigerator seeming to be on the fritz with the dinner party upcoming, or the unsettling because no longer disturbing news of that mornings death toll from Iraq.

Mammograms, theres no question, are painfully unpleasant, but at least you stand for them. In the ultrasound room, you are supinewhich, in medical situations, as far as Im concerned, is never good. Rather than look at the screen, I watched the ultrasound technician watching. I tried to read her face. It was peering, and at a certain point it became more alert, the way a scuba divers might when hes found the endangered anemone he was in search of. But this nearly jubilant alertness turned almost immediately into its opposite. The nameless womans face turned, there is only one word for it, grave. She gave me her face, her sad face, and she said, You stay right here while I show this to the doctor.

Now the doctor and the technician returned together, the wizard revealing herself to be simultaneously buxom and long-nosed, a kind of Wallace and Gromit figure with a British accent. She neither asked me my name nor greeted me, but hurried. She bustled all aflutter toward the screen as she took the matter literally into her hands. She began to wield the ultrasound wand as if to suggest that if she did this herself, shed see something different and better than the technician had. The doctor didnt quite know how to angle the instrument, so the technician helped her saying, Do you see the shadow? And the peaks? The words recommended to me a painting by Caspar David Friedrich.

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