I’m Telling The Truth, But I’m Lying: Essays

If you listen to podcasts frequently, even the guest hosts can become familiar. Bassey Ikpi appeared on Elon James’ podcasts when they still existed. Ikpi also regularly cohosted with Rod Morrow on The Black Guy Who Tips, specifically for the This Too Much, which is a podcast devoted to This Is Us, but also has focused on Insecure, Atlanta and movies such as Moonlight. Morrow would introduce Ikpi as a poet and New York Times best-selling writer before she had written her first book. As a lawyer, poetry died for me around my second year of law school so when Ikpi and Morrow started earnestly to promote her book, I knew that I would read it, but was worried that I would not get it or be able to relate to it, which would suck because it would then be the second book in a row that I read by a podcaster that I liked, but was disappointed by her written work although this time, it would possibly be my fault for being a philistine.
When I started reading I’m Telling The Truth, But I’m Lying: Essays, I had a huge chunk of free time to fill so I was able to read the majority of the book in one sitting and get fully immersed into the varying rhythms of the book, which reflected the interior rhythm of the author so when she begins to feel trapped by the monotony of her life or become unmoored by her inability to focus or find peace due to a mental disorder, the narrative reflects that inner restlessness. It is a memoir of tone and emotion, memorable events in an autobiography of the heart, not a comprehensive, traditional chronicle of notable times, accomplishments and events, which means that she is encouragingly transparent about when she doubts her recollection and weaves that uncertainty in her story, which adds texture to the narrative. Doubt is not always rooted in a disorder, but the flaws of the memory exacerbated by time, distance and disappointment.
2019 has been a rough year for me so I can attest to the fact that reading I’m Telling The Truth, But I’m Lying: Essays at your lowest point will actually be encouraging because it is always a relief when someone takes the filter off their life and reveal her critical inner voice, struggles and as Elaine Stritch would say, her “bag of rocks.” We are not alone in our despair, which is simultaneously unique and different from everyone else’s, but strikingly similar and devastating, a robber of time and self when it hits you at the right time. Also the contrast between Ikpi’s podcast persona and writing voice are huge, but are coming from the same person, and I enjoyed the contrast. It did not feel inconsistent, but comforting because we are different selves depending on the different times and places that call for us to be present in various ways.
I’m Telling The Truth, But I’m Lying: Essays may be the best book of 2019. Ikpi’s book is inherently personal and subjective yet because it addresses topics such as psychological abuse, gaslighting and mental disabilities in such a detailed way, it opens the door for the reader to interrogate how unarticulated, but common phenomenon’s in the reader’s life is actually an experience that should not be hidden. It uses disclosure as a way to take the teeth out of the trauma and shame that usually accompany these long and silently endured quotidian horrors. It shifts the burden off without necessarily condemning the one that places the burden on your shoulders in the first place. Ikpi may return to the source of her pain or discomfort, but because of the way that she writes about it, as a reader, I never had a knee jerk, judgmental reaction. This book does not lend itself to backseat drivers.
Because I’m Telling The Truth, But I’m Lying: Essays is not a traditional memoir and eventually free time dwindled back to nothing, the time between readings began to lengthen so sometimes it took awhile for me to get oriented and remember where I was in relation to the whole book. For example, when Ikpi writes about Peter, I could not recall if she had mentioned Peter, who seemed like a very important person in her life, and I could not remember who he was, or if it was the first time that she was mentioning him, but she did not want to talk about Peter per se, but the great love and grief and cover that he provided to disguise her already existing pain in a socially acceptable fashion. So I would encourage future readers not to let a lot of time get in between you and the momentum of the book because time is the enemy of conveying meaning and significance.
I loved I’m Telling The Truth, But I’m Lying: Essays and can’t wait to read her next book. I’m so happy that her work is getting rewarded and hope that it encourages others to reflect on their own lives without judgment. I also am excited to see how it influences future writers to discover their own voices and experiment with traditional genres to make them fit their voice instead of doing the opposite. The only negative of Ikpi being critically acclaimed and loved by a broader audience is that she may not have the time to appear on my favorite podcasts anymore.