One sister, C, departs from New York on Sunday night driving an average of 70mph. The other sister, L, leaves Seattle with boyfriend T on Wednesday. L and T average 75mph. C is headed west, toward Seattle; L and T are travelling east and spend their first night in Idaho. When L calls C on Thursday around noon, where is C?
(a) Fergus Falls, Minnesota
(b) Jamestown, North Dakota
(c) Forsyth, Montana
(d) 10 miles away on the I-90. Time for lunch!
The entirely improbable answer is, as you can see, (d). As far as I knew, Laurie and Tom weren’t even on the same highway as me. The fact Laurie and I both had a cell phone signal in those mountains, and that I wasn’t way across the state, like she figured — that, in fact, we were heading toward each other, only a few miles apart — well, it’s a kind of crazy sisterly coincidence.
Which brings me to Identical Strangers: A Memoir of Twins Separated and Reunited by Elyse Schein and Paula Bernstein, coming out this fall from Random House. Not that my sister and I are twins. Anyway, more about the book after the jump.
Elyse and Paula each knew they were adopted, but until Elyse, in her 30s, decided to make inquiries about her birth family, neither had any idea she had a twin. This is their dual memoir, written in alternating parts, about their experiences meeting one another and unearthing the story of their birth and separation.
It’s fascinating subject matter: how much does DNA determine who we are? Identical twins, raised apart provide a rare perspective. An extreme example: the “Jim Twins,” who didn’t meet until age 39, both married women named Linda, divorced them, then married women called Betty. One named his son James Alan; the other, James Allan. We imagine we’re making choices, but perhaps we’re playing out our genetic code more often than we think.
In Identical Strangers, Elyse and Paula tell us of finding many parallels in their lives; they were also relieved to discover they remained distinct individuals. Their book provides some background on twin research, and personal insights into the nature/nurture question, but it’s far more memoir than scientific inquiry.
As memoir, it’s uneven: some parts are better written than others, and sometimes the language is redundant. When each sister uses the word “locks” for “hair” just a few pages apart, is it sloppy editing or twinly mirroring? Unfortunately, the book doesn’t offer an answer. While it delivers an immediacy of experience by alternating first-person sections, it lacks the big picture. What about this narrative as a whole: where do we see commonalities, difference? Why one book together? Perhaps a forward by someone other than the two sisters would provide this perspective.
But they seemed determined to tell their own stories, no more. As curious as Elyse and Paula were about their shared past — and their fervor to know more waxes and wanes — neither one of them wants to be a lab rat. So I remain curious to learn the rest of their story.
There are still some elements of their past the two have yet to discover, and I hope that the book will bring the attention that’ll help them get at those final answers. Maybe that’s the reason for writing it together after all.
