St. Martin's Press
June 2003
A recovering alcoholic once explained alcoholism to me like this: "It's like dancing with a gorilla. You're not done until the gorilla's done." In Dry, a follow-up to his shocking and hilarious childhood memoir, "Running with Scissors," Augusten Burroughs recounts his introduction into recovery from alcoholism.
"Squalor" is the only word that comes to Burroughs mind upon returning from rehab to his Manhattan apartment, "filled with empty Dewar's bottles, hundreds of empty Dewar's bottles. They cover all surfaces; the counters in the kitchen, the top of the refrigerator. They are under the table I use as a desk, dozens of them there, with a small clearing for my feet... And then I see them: fruit flies, hovering at the mouths of the bottles. They form dark clouds at the ceiling above the kitchen sink. And dead fruit flies cover everything, like dust."
Burroughs reaches untold heights of irony in this frequently hilarious telling of the darkest depths of his addiction. Sometimes wickedly funny and other times cold and lonely, Burroughs vividly delivers the story of the alcoholic, as only the alcoholic can tell it.
June 2003
A recovering alcoholic once explained alcoholism to me like this: "It's like dancing with a gorilla. You're not done until the gorilla's done." In Dry, a follow-up to his shocking and hilarious childhood memoir, "Running with Scissors," Augusten Burroughs recounts his introduction into recovery from alcoholism.
"Squalor" is the only word that comes to Burroughs mind upon returning from rehab to his Manhattan apartment, "filled with empty Dewar's bottles, hundreds of empty Dewar's bottles. They cover all surfaces; the counters in the kitchen, the top of the refrigerator. They are under the table I use as a desk, dozens of them there, with a small clearing for my feet... And then I see them: fruit flies, hovering at the mouths of the bottles. They form dark clouds at the ceiling above the kitchen sink. And dead fruit flies cover everything, like dust."
Burroughs reaches untold heights of irony in this frequently hilarious telling of the darkest depths of his addiction. Sometimes wickedly funny and other times cold and lonely, Burroughs vividly delivers the story of the alcoholic, as only the alcoholic can tell it.
The Proud Institute is a highly acclaimed gay and lesbian rehabilitation hospital in Minnesota. With this in mind, Burroughs imagines a finely-architected and lavishly-landscaped facility complete with lush walking trails, modern workout amenities, and tasteful decor.
"Nurses will be far too holistic and nurturing to wear white polyester; they will wear, perhaps, tailored hemp smocks and when they are backlit by one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lily pond, I will see the outline of their lean, athletic legs."
What he finds is a slightly dilapidated 1970's office park building with an annoyingly chipper and floral-print clad staff and beige walls lined with slogans like "Easy Does It," "First things First," and "One Day at a Time." Burroughs swallows his pride along with his impulse to cut and run from this place. Against his better judgment, he opens up to these strangers in "Group" and "Affirmation" meetings, and somehow manages to learn something in the process.
Burroughs story of his raging alcoholism, his stay at rehab, and the tumultuous months that follow is a heart-wrenchingly authentic picture of the tornado that is the alcoholic.
Told by anyone else, this story is often too depressing to digest sober, but as in Running with Scissors, Burroughs again proves his innate ability to infuse generous amounts of humorous insight into the most depraved and depressing of circumstances.
