Today, at long last, I am finally getting to see Fun Home. I have been a fan of Alison Bechdel’s since I discovered her Dykes to Watch Out For series in 1988. When I first encountered her, she was an obscure lesbian cartoonist whose compilations were published by an obscure lesbian publishing house which went out of business mid-series. Now she is a MacArthur Genius and author of two amazing (that is not just me talking, the critics agree) graphic novels about her life.
When Fun Home first came out I had to almost physically carve out space to read it. My life was filled to the brim with CubeSpace and reading was a pleasure that I had pretty much given up. Nevertheless, I bought Fun Home almost the minute it came out and devoured it quickly. I then passed it around the CubeSpace staff to read because it was that good.
Back then I was very fortunate to get to see Alison at Powell’s read from Fun Home. This was before the hordes realized what a gem she had produced. The room was small but even so, not all of the seats were taken. Despite her obvious nerves, she was very frank and upfront about herself, her writing process and her family. She also spoke about the challenge of being an incredibly private person writing a very personal memoir.
One of the other reasons I came into New York this time (besides, of course, having an opportunity to dote on my niecelettes) was for the unveiling of my father’s gravestone. Even though it has been 18 months since my father’s deaths, seeing his name on the stone felt like ripping the scab off a wound that hadn’t quite healed.
I didn’t intentionally set out to go see a show about a daughter and her father on the same trip as my father’s unveiling. But I am glad I did. And not just because it meant I had my choice of seats because I got my tickets before Fun Home won 5 Tony awards. What I am trying to say is that I am confident that I will end up in tears at least once today.
Unveiling aside, my father has been very present in my mind since we started the adoption process. I know he would have been thrilled at the opportunity to become a grandfather again. And I am very sad that my daughter will never get to meet him. But I hope he will still be a presence in her life through me.