In a great moment of foresight, before he died, my father catalogued and donated his vast collection of Jew’s harps to the Khomus Museum in Yakutia. So that’s one fewer set of boxes for me and my sister to put in our attics and look at once or twice over the course of the rest of our lives. I do wish he’d saved me that chest of drawers of eyeglass lenses from my grandfather’s shop. I could have really done something with that. 
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
About the book
The Point, Sort of
ALL THIS TO SAY: in crafting a book like this, you might assume I’d be inclined to comb through these archives. Weirdly enough, I don’t especially enjoy looking at much of this material. I did read my journals from beginning to end a few years back, when I was trying to write a memoir, and nothing about the experience was enjoyable. At best it was marginally illuminating, in that I discovered that I remembered some things very differently from the way I’d written about them at the time.
But the point is that I didn’t want this book to depict events with any accuracy. I am a fan of whatever you want to call this category of fiction in which authors use their real names for their character names. As someone who has often mined my own history for inspiration, I find that using my real name feels like a fun way to blur the lines further while also not pretending that a story didn’t begin where it did. This book began with a simple idea: if I had the opportunity to sit down with my mom, who died in 1998, and dig into what each of us thought we knew about the other person’s life, what would be revealed? My hope was to capture something of the essence of these two real people, reflecting who they truly were/are/could have been/could be. The book Percival Everett by Virgil Russell, by Percival Everett, blew my mind. There’s no way to synopsize it simply, but it explores a father-son relationship, playing with point of view in a way that’s unlike anything I’ve ever read. That no one had ever told me to read Percival Everett before is also mind-blowing, because Percival Everett is so in my wheelhouse that he pretty much built the wheelhouse. Sometimes you don’t even hear or think about who builds the wheelhouse you’re in, but now I’m working my way through all the bricks Percival Everett laid, believe me.
All this to say that I made the non-decision not to dig too deeply into literal stuff.
Read on Further Ambiguity
IN THE FOLLOWING pages, I present to you some literal stuff to peruse that may or may not come from the collected archives of the Crane/Russell/Brandt estate. Any resemblance to individuals, living or dead, is entirely ambiguous. I’ll be curious to know if you think that what you see in this assemblage lines up with the story as I tell it, or if you think it matters.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
Advance Praise for The History of Great Things
“Elizabeth Crane has written a novel that is both unprecedented and fantastic (a word I mean in every sense). Without question, the unconventional narrative is compelling in a can’t-stop-reading kind of way. But there’s more to this book than a keen story cleverly told. Her every page thrums with wisdom, buzzes with truth. What did I learn after reading The History of Great Things? I learned that love survives death. And that no one ever really goes away, even if they have. And that all sides have many stories. And that we make our own happiness. This is unlike any novel I’ve ever encountered and it’s absolutely wonderful.”
— Jill Alexander Essbaum, author of Hausfrau
“I cannot remember the last time I simultaneously cried and laughed as hard as I did while reading Elizabeth Crane’s glorious, tender knockout of a novel, The History of Great Things. Wait, yes, I can. It was the last time I spoke to my mom about life.”
— Amber Tamblyn, author of Dark Sparkler
“Like everything Elizabeth Crane writes, The History of Great Things is wonderful fun to read — smart, insightful, and witty — but it will break your heart too. It stares down the poignant question so many daughters want to ask: ‘How well did my mother really know me?’”
— Pamela Erens, author of Eleven Hours and The Virgins
“In her signature prose style, full of verve and wit, Elizabeth Crane unpacks the problematic relationship between mother and daughter that will resonate with anyone. By telling each other’s stories, the mother and daughter in The History of Great Things reinvent each other, their relationship, and the possibility of empathy. You will cry, weep, and be glad you went along for this very particular beautiful and heartbreaking ride.”
— Emily Rapp Black, author of The Still Point of the Turning World
“I’ve long been an admirer of Elizabeth Crane’s absolutely unique voice — no one else working in contemporary American letters sounds quite like her. This is an important work, fearless in both structure and vision, with Crane’s razor-edge fusion of intelligence, humor, and emotion informing every chapter. Get ready, world: this one’s going to be huge.”
— Jamie Quatro, author of I Want to Show You More