The Big Book of Family Lies

I was born into a dynasty. A huge, overgrown, chaotic family. I have 37 first cousins. My grandfather and his 2 brothers married the 3 daughters of another family, causing confusion, chaos and volumes of family myths. Much depended on whether you were a descendant of Abraham, Isaac or Jacob. To further complicate matters, Isaac’s wife died in childbirth, not surprising as this was her tenth delivery. So Jacob’s wife stepped in and ended up looking after 17 children.

The 3 brothers, all immigrants to this country, built a large and profitable furniture business and money was never a problem. We all grew up and lived in large houses with tennis courts, swimming pools, colorful gardens, rolling lawns and loyal servants. The 3 founding brothers each bought a new model Dodge every year. Sky blue Fluid Drives. None of them was tall enough to see over the dashboard and the cars came with sky-blue driving cushions. Life was great! 

I am the eldest grandson of Abraham, the oldest brother, so various family duties are dumped on my head. One of these is compiling and maintaining the family records. I planned to do this by writing a thousand-page saga and incorporating as many details and anecdotes about the family as I could. I wanted the book to be easily readable and as close to a page-turner as I could, without swamping readers with boring dates and ages. But of course, the main story had to be the true one. I knew that for the coming centuries many unborn cousins and their offspring in future generations would read it and look for typos, mistakes and straight-out lies. I had to be cautious.

To start the thinking and writing processes, I sat with my grandfather, Abraham, now known as Abe, and asked him to tell me about himself. He did. A long, winding, boring tale of hardship, misery and great adventure. It starts at age 17 when he opened the back door of the family house at 3 am one icy-cold morning, and ran for his life. How he trudged 50 miles through the snow to the harbor. How he had scrimped and saved enough money to buy a Steerage class ticket to New York. How he was pushed off the boat and how he lied his way through Ellis Island. A friendly priest found him sleeping in a park, took him home, adopted him and changed his miserable life. End of chapter 1.    I carefully listed all the major points in an exercise book which would be the basis of the final volume.

Next was Isaac, now known as Ike, who told of his great adventures which began when he and Abe, his older brother, kissed their parents at the front door of their cottage and set off to make their fortunes in the world. He knew nothing of a voyage to New York. Couldn’t remember how he made it from Vladivostok to New York. Never met a priest and never ever, would he sleep in a park. No way! This would become Chapter II and remains in draft form until chapter I has been edited by Abraham.

Jacob, now known as Jake, was enthusiastic. He spilled out a version about how he and his 2 older brothers, Abe and Ike, stowed away on a fast clipper ship and landed up in Jamaica where they set up a tee-shirt factory which spat out five thousand tee-shirts per day. The shirts cost them 3 dollars each at the back door of the clothing manufacturer and they sold them to tourists for the bargain price of 12 dollars each. This chapter will remain in draft form. Or should I use this as chapter I and then decide on a descending order for the 2 following chapters? My mind was reeling at this stage.

I decided to think in terms of a best-seller without any mention of my family. But to make sure that the facts were all imaginary, I decided to move one more generation southwards and see which version my father’s generation remembers. I called on my father and my uncles.

They were all pretty vague. “Are you kidding? Those 3 guys? Your grandfather included? They are a bunch of liars and crooks! Have you ever seen the financial books they keep, or pretend to keep? They haven’t a clue. They sell a piece of furniture, the customer pays, they split the money on the spot, and go out and spend it! Great bookkeeping system, huh?”

“What about income tax?”

“My guess is that the chiefs in the tax departments get leather armchairs every year. Probably sky-blue Fluid Drive armchairs too. Puts the occupant to sleep in 4 minutes!”

“How come we don’t live in New York, if that’s where they disembarked? And why aren’t we in Jamaica?”

“Who knows? Remember, they couldn’t speak English. Probably only Vladivostok Kitchen Russian only.”

“Vladivostok? Sid says his father told him they lived next door to Red Square in Moscow!”

“Yeah, right!”

“Says his grandfather back there was the minister of communication.”

“Hah! I heard that he was a postman!”

“There’s another version too,” said Uncle Tom slowly. “The one I know. We came from Paris, France. Ever heard any of them speaking French? Jamaica? Where’s that?”

I sat with my recorder and more uncles. The stories grew wilder and wilder. And I was becoming fascinated by my family’s imagination and possible plots. I decided to invite odd cousins from my own generation. Perhaps one of them would reveal something…

I posted a message on the family noticeboard on the internet: ‘To all my cousins, some of whom I have never met, I am writing the history of our family and I am seeking historical items and anecdotes in your branch of the family. Please let me have any items you may have. Family photographs are welcome but they must have the names of those in the pictures.’

After a few hours, replies started appearing. Worse than their fathers and grandfathers. Made-up myths designed to wreck any hope of a family book. Listen to these:

‘My dad landed up in the jungles of Africa.’

‘My grandfather fought the Amazonian Indians in South America.’

‘My dad dug for diamonds in South Africa. Photo attached.’

‘My grandfather was with Howard Carter when he discovered Tutankhamen’s tomb inside the pyramid. See the attached photo. That’s Dad, third from the left.   

I quit. I cannot cope with my family. But I may write the book.  It will be “The Big Book of Family Lies.” It’s bound to be a bestseller…