THESE TWO HANDS by Renee

Way back in the early 1980s, when in our early 20s, my brother had his first job at Playmarket NZ which managed/nurtured/supported/assessed playwrights and their works in NZ. I remember him talking one day about a new playwright, an elderly lesbian lady with only one name - Renee. It helps to remember when you are not yet 25, everyone over 30 is old, so Renee who would have been early 50s, older even than our parents, was pretty old. What an intrigue!

Naturally I was intrigued when she published her memoir a couple of years ago, and bought it. Intriguing it certainly is, written in 87 patchwork quilt pieces, 1 for every year lived so far:  an allegory of course for the enormous variety, layers and events of a life of what is now 90 years.

What a delicious treat this has been to read. It broadly follows a chronological line, beginning with her birth in Napier in 1929. Her father disappears when she is 4, she later finds out he killed himself a long way from home. She had to leave school at 12, being the oldest child, wondering at the time if she would ever get to learn everything she wanted. Such a great spirit this woman has, her zest for life and living shining through - beginning to write when her children were young, involving herself in local repertory theatre, getting her degree, becoming a teacher then a playwright, discovering herself. Her 'patches' are not all memoirs: interspersed with examples from her plays, her poetry and her musings on life. I really liked this, more than I thought I would. The woman is a treasure and at 90 is still out there giving life her all.