Catana Tully with her sisters Judith, left, and Adela, right.
An autobiography which challenges the reader’s perceptions of things is always going to be worth reading; when the life itself is rich in experience and narrated with flair and refined prose, the whole book won’t fail to impress. I read Catana Tully’s ‘Split at the Root: A Memoir of Love and Lost Identity’ over two days, mesmerised by her account of her upbringing, at first in Guatemala, by a German couple who split her from her birth mother and re-grafted her upon the stem of their family, though without formally adopting her.
Catana with her birth mother
Catana with her German mother
The delicate handling of this chronological narrative, covering the whole of the author’s life, ensures that the circumstances are viewed from Catana’s perspective as she grows and matures, not with the benefit of hindsight from her position today; her subjectivity, stage by stage, therefore limits perspective and obliges the reader to examine personal attitudes to what happens and to the various characters who appear in Catana’s story. As a writer of crime fiction, I’m only too aware of the power of suggestion, implication and withheld information, and I found myself exploring what was being given without too much absolute certainty as to the validity of my deductions; Catana Tully plays the reader with supreme skill and the surprises continue to come again and again, right to the very end. This process, of course, ensures considerable empathy with the growing girl, but Catana doesn’t pull punches with her presentation of less appealing features of her developing character (gosh, she had some temper!).
I’m very reluctant to provide here much precise information about the narrative, as to do so would undoubtedly spoil others’ experience of reading it, but I will say that issues of (not in any order) heritage, culture, language, skin colour, prejudice (and I don’t just mean racial), origin, family, relationships, love, duty, education, psychology and adoption are presented for scrutiny in the most unobtrusive way, woven into the fabric of the story so skilfully that the mind continues to work on them long after the reading is complete.
This is a narrative which was clearly painful in the telling, for it lays bare the very nature of Catana herself and must have caused her considerable anguish, but her sense of humour and her great good sense both shine through, so that I was left with a feeling of great joy in the celebration of the self and the huge significance of personal identity. ‘Finding oneself’ is a pale way of depicting what this book is about, for it doesn’t shrink from shattering stereotypes and stereotypical ways of looking at and dealing with the world in the process of a quest that is quite overwhelming in its complexity.
Have I overwhelmed you with all this? I hope not, for the narrative is very readable indeed and the experiences which the book charts are fascinating, stimulating and often delightful. This is not a book that has an axe to grind or a message to pound home: it is a glorious tribute to the individual, in all her multi-faceted forms. Do read it; you will not be disappointed.
Christina James, crime novelist 
Thank you, Christina, for this insightful and intelligent assessment of Split at the Root. I am so pleased that, as a crime novelist, you found the twists and turns in the story worthy of detective work! Honestly speechless and deeply humbled! In gratitude, Catana
Catana, it was a pleasure to read and a privilege to write about. I hope that others who find their way here will choose to read it. I have deliberately avoided giving much at all away! 🙂
Christina, I posted it on FB, and my sisters shared it right away… by now the review has even reached Livingston! My German niece has broadcast it to my White family. Things travel these days. I am just tickled. Thank you again. Loved it! 🙂
I’m so pleased that it’s reaching out! I’m even more delighted that you yourself are happy with it. Best wishes, Catana! 🙂
Lots of compelling reasons here to read this memoir – or is it an autobiography? I’m not sure of the difference anymore. I thought I was, but it seems to have merged. Anyhow, this book sounds fascinating and it’s going on my TBR list as a memoir/biography to be sought and bought!
Hmm, I’ve just noticed you start by referring to it as an autobiography, but the title refers to a memoir… I wonder if there is a difference at all?
For what it’s worth, I can’t say that there is a clear-cut difference and the word memoir has been used in fairly recent times much more frequently to refer to an autobiographical narrative. My own feeling is that an autobiography covers a life, whilst a memoir is a personal focus on a particular aspect of personal experience, often with the imaginative recreation of individual occasions/experiences and seeking to entertain the reader with anecdote and, say, dialogue. So, in your case, I’d use the word memoir for ‘Watery Ways’, for you are focusing upon the part of your life which conjures for the reader what life as a bargee is about, rather than charting in chronological order the facts of your story, even though your account may be chronological! I think that ‘Split’ is an account of a life, but that doesn’t mean that it is purely factual. There are features common to both, of course, which makes the distinction very difficult to make. Catana is perfectly able to refer to ‘Split’ as a memoir, but I, very subjectively and personally, see it as autobiography! So, clear as mud then. 😉
I love your clarity, Christina 🙂 I belong to a group on FB where I have shared your review and of which it Catana is also a member (I didn’t know that before). In any event, I’ve read books by members, all termed memoirs, but all full-scale autobiographies too, so I’m taking it that all autobiographies are memoirs but not all memoirs are autobiographies 😀
Dear Christina,
I am having an issue leaving a response on your website. I have forgotten the WordPress logins??? Anyway, here is wh