1. Anthony Swofford And Christa Parravani
2. Her By Christa Parravani
3. Is Christa Parravani Married
4. Christa Parravani Wikipedia
5. Christa Parravani Kids
6. Christa Parravani Photos

Anthony Swofford is the author of the memoirs Hotels, Hospital, and Jails and Jarhead and the novel Exit A. A film adaptation of Jarhead directed by Sam Mendes was released in 2005. Swofford's writing has appeared in Harper’s, the New York Times Magazine, The Guardian, and Slate, among other places. He has taught at the University of Iowa Writers’ Workshop and Lewis and Clark College. Christa Parravani is the author of Her: A Memoir. Her was an Indie Bound Next pick and Amazon's Debut Spotlight pick, and a best book of the month. Parravani's work has appeared in Marie Claire, The Washington Post, The London Times, and The Daily Mail. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband, the writer Anthony Swofford, and their daughter. Christa Parravani discusses her heartbreaking memoir with husband and fellow memoirist Anthony Swofford (Jarhead). About the Book: Cara, Christa’s identical twin, used to call Christa “Her.” So close were these sisters that they often had a hard time differentiating which memories belonged to the other and which experiences belonged to. “Concise and captivating, Parravani's prose paints her phoenix-like transformation such that the reader feels the flames of her fire. A poignant, book-arcing metaphor illustrates Christa's battle to accept herself with a mirror-image. Raw and unstoppable, Her illuminates the triumph of the human spirit – both individual and shared.”. Parravani is a graduate of the Rutgers-Newark MFA Program. Anthony Swofford is the author of the memoirs Hotels, Hospitals, and Jails and Jarhead, as well as the novel Exit A. A film adaptation of Jarhead directied by Sam Mendes was relaesed in 2005.

Christa and Cara Parravani were identical twins, inseparable images of one another. They stare out from the cover of Her, Christa Parravani’s haunting new memoir, Cara looking down and Christa looking grimly into the camera. Cara died in 2006, not long after the photo was taken, a brutal rape having driven her to depression and a spiraling drug addiction.

Her is about Cara’s unraveling, but it is also a recollection of their complicated, intertwined life from birth: their unhappy parents, artistic talents, bad choices in men. Their parents broke up when they were very young, and on visits with their father, he would have them chant, “Mom is a witch. Mom should die. Mom is an evil bitch.”

Cara was a promising writer, and Christa a photographer. Their art tethered them as they went out into the world, rooming together as freshmen at Bard College, where they mixed their favorite children’s books in with textbooks on their dorm room shelf. They both got married too young, and struggled to share their twin with someone else. “His marriage to me was all she’d said it would be,” Parravani writes. “She called whenever she liked. She showed up whenever she liked. She still had me, like he never could.”

Then came the rape—although it was Cara who was assaulted, the event was a turning point in both their lives. Cara began using heroin and attempting suicide, checking in and out of rehab centers and mental hospitals. Her husband, unable to cope, let their home disintegrate. On a flight to one rehab stint, Cara used wine to wash down a drug for panic attacks, falling over in the baggage terminal and chipping a tooth.

Research shows that when a twin dies, the odds are high the other will follow shortly. Parravani writes about the numb years after her sister’s death, and how she slowly, slowly began rebuilding a life without her mirror image. She divorced and remarried, living now in Brooklyn with her husband, the writer Anthony Swofford, and their young daughter.

To write the story, Parravani, an accomplished photographer, relied on her own recollections and those of her mother, as well as journals Cara left behind. “One weekend at my mother’s house, I was trying to write the rape scene. I was failing miserably because I didn’t have the adequate words,” Parravani recalls. “I was looking through Cara’s closet for clothes to take home, and found a Tupperware container under her bed.”

“This book offers proof of my love, which she was constantly questioning.”

Inside was a notebook in which Cara recalled her rape on a warm October afternoon in a park, where she was walking her dog. When she came home from the attack, she told her husband not to touch her. “I’m evidence,” she said.

“I put my own loving care into it,” Parravani says of writing about the rape. “One of the things she wanted was for me to understand what happened to her that day. I did that for her by editing that piece.”

It was one episode in a harrowing writing process.

“It was incredibly difficult,” Parravani says. “I felt that, in order to write the best book I could, I needed to go into the hardest moments. Because it’s my first book, I was learning to write and I had to throw it away and relive it again and again. The magical thing was when I thought I couldn’t go on, Cara would have something to say [in her journals].”

Although Cara was the writer in the family, Parravani found solace in writing Her. Her husband, author of the Gulf War memoir Jarhead, encouraged her to write her story.

Being married to another writer is “truly, truly wonderful,” Parravani says. “It’s not necessarily that we’re ‘a writing team.’ It’s not the fantasy I had in high school. It’s just very nice for me to have Tony with me in my life at this time. He’s been a real partner to me in the truest sense of the word and prepared me for this.”

And what would her twin think of Her?

“I think at first Cara would be very jealous,” Parravani says with a laugh. “Aside from that petty, sisterly competition, I think she’d be surprised I was able to reflect on her that way. This book offers proof of my love, which she was constantly questioning. She hated herself. It was that simple. Her rape had eroded her self-confidence. She didn’t like the way she looked—physically and otherwise. It was a constant battle to convince Cara she was worthy.”

Parravani’s self-assured, unflinching writing belies her status as novice author. She writes candidly about life before and after her twin’s death.

Anthony Swofford And Christa Parravani

“Her feet were bare, hidden beneath the closed lid of the coffin,” Parravani writes. “Her skin was taut and her rose rouge wouldn’t blend. Blush sat on the tops of her cheeks in powdery circles. The worry line on her forehead had been erased by the magic plumping effect of embalming fluid. She would have been pleased to know that death had made her younger.”

Her By Christa Parravani

“I’ve been waiting a long time to be able to talk about this,” Parravani says. “Now that I’ve finished the book, in some ways I feel my active relationship with her has ended. I’m actually excited. I want people to know who my sister was. I want people to know my sister had a truly beautiful spirit. She was the kindest person I’ve ever known.”

Is Christa Parravani Married

Parravani has a photo of Cara hanging in her dining room, and talks about her often with her 16-month-old, Josephine. “I don’t want my daughter to be haunted by the idea of her mother’s sister,” she explains. “I happily point to Aunt Cara.”

Anthony Swofford, author of the bestselling Marine Corps memoir Jarhead, interviews his wife Christa Parravani in today's Daily Beast. Parravani visits UAlbany and the New York State Museum downtown today.
Tony: You just said that she feared being “too much” and she’s a big figure in Her. If in your twin dynamic she was too much, were you too little? You make it clear that there were obviously competing psychologies going on from birth. Tell me more about that.
Christa: We never allowed ourselves to be the same. Identical twins are like that, always trying to carve out individuality. It was as if the world wasn’t a big enough place for us to be similar, and that forced us into trying to be opposite. We were fiercely competitive. It was simple at first when we were children. Cara liked vanilla ice cream, so I liked chocolate. I liked pink, so she liked blue. It really was

Christa Parravani Wikipedia

that severe. Cara loved to sing, so I couldn’t sing—

Christa Parravani Kids

Christa Parravani Photos