Nobody Will Tell You This But Me

A true (as told to me) story

Author Bess Kalb
Read by Bess Kalb
$15.00 US
Audio | Random House Audio
On sale Mar 17, 2020 | 4 Hours and 22 Minutes | 9780593169711
Sales rights: US, Canada, Open Mkt
NATIONAL BESTSELLER

ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR:
VOGUE • FORBES  BOOKPAGE • NEW YORK POST • WIRED

“I have not been as profoundly moved by a book in years.” —Jodi Picoult


Even after she left home for Hollywood, Emmy-nominated TV writer Bess Kalb saved every voicemail her grandmother Bobby Bell ever left her. Bobby was a force—irrepressible, glamorous, unapologetically opinionated. Bobby doted on Bess; Bess adored Bobby. Then, at ninety, Bobby died. But in this debut memoir, Bobby is speaking to Bess once more, in a voice as passionate as it ever was in life.
 
Recounting both family lore and family secrets, Bobby brings us four generations of indomitable women and the men who loved them. There’s Bobby’s mother, who traveled solo from Belarus to America in the 1880s to escape the pogroms, and Bess’s mother, a 1970s rebel who always fought against convention. But it was Bobby and Bess who always had the most powerful bond: Bobby her granddaughter’s fiercest supporter, giving Bess unequivocal love, even if sometimes of the toughest kind. Nobody Will Tell You This But Me marks the creation of a totally new, virtuosic form of memoir: a reconstruction of a beloved grandmother’s words and wisdom to tell her family’s story with equal parts poignancy and hilarity.
THE MET

Do you remember what we always did when I took you to the Metropolitan Museum of Art?

I’d bring a yellow legal pad and pencils, and we’d sit in front of the paintings and you’d sketch.

“Bessarabia, what do you see?”

“Haystacks.”

“I didn’t realize I was accompanied by the chief art critic of The New York Times.

“What am I supposed to see?”

“You tell me.”

And you’d get very close to the painting, your nose just a breath away from the varnish—the guards would bark at you and you’d jump back with an electric jolt and straighten your back, and we’d both wince and shrug at each other. And you’d collect yourself and clear your throat and stand there with your arms crossed, solemnly squinting at the paint- ing, rocking from foot to foot like a grand appraiser. Thirty seconds. A minute. Five minutes. You’d occasionally stroke your chin with two fingers like you’d seen Bugs Bunny do in a cartoon. You might as well have wiped your monocle on a handkerchief.

Finally, when there was practically steam coming out of your ears, you’d have your fully prepared remarks: “I think he loved hay and he probably loved painting.”

And I’d turn to the guard and say, “She charges fifty cents for a tour.”

After the art was the main event: the cheese plate. We’d go to the grand old cafeteria where it used to be in the back of the museum in the columned atrium. We’d line up, pick out two plastic containers full of cheese, find a quiet table away from the tourists and talk, and eat our snack very methodically. First the brie, scooping it out from the rind with the water crackers, and then we’d press a sliced strawberry into the soft cheese and eat it just like that. We were very French, you and I.

We’d eat the cheddar, throw away the blue; then on the way out the main entrance you’d buy a postcard of your favorite painting. Always something with flowers.
 
· · ·

METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART,
PERMANENT COLLECTION, 1994
 
GRANDMOTHER: Bessie, I want you to go around these rooms and take this notepad and tell me how many paintings were done by a woman.

GRANDDAUGHTER: And then we can look at the ballerinas?

A building full of all the greatest masterpieces, and all you want is to see how an old man kept wandering into dance practice. I’d have had him arrested.

I like the ballerinas.

After this we can see as many damned ballerinas as you can stand.

[THIRTY MINUTES LATER]

OK! Eight women.

Eight!

Yep.

Did you write them down?

[STUMBLING THROUGH PRONUNCIATIONS]

Simone Martini, Andrea del Sarto, Camille Corot, Annibale Carracci, Andrea Mantegna, Jules Bastien-Lepage, Camille Pissarro, and Jan Steen.

Oh, honey. Give that here.

[EXTRACTS GLASSES FROM GIANT HANDBAG, LOOKS AT THE PAPER]

Did I miss any? I saw them all.

All of those are men.

They have girls’ names.

They’re just European names.

Did I miss the women?

There aren’t any women.

It was a trick?

It was a lesson.

What’s the lesson?

If you’re born a man and halfway decent at something, everyone will tell you you’re great. There’s only one woman nearby. Right through here in the American wing.

[TAKES HAND AND WALKS ME INTO THE NEXT GALLERY]

Here she is. Lady at the Tea Table. Mary Cassatt.

I like it.

Yes, you do. You know how you can tell a Mary Cassatt?

How?

She was kind to her subjects. She left out their hips.
"A funny, touching and timely reminder of the solace to be found in kindred spirits." People

“I delighted in Bobby’s joy. I cried twice.” —Miranda Popkey, The New York Times Book Review

"A poignant and funny look at four generations of women." —Stephanie Merry, The Washington Post

"A unique take on a close daughter-grandmother relationship; a beautiful tribute to Kalb's grandmother, Bobby. Told in her hilarious grandmother’s voice, Bess’s memoir chronicles her family’s story and the love story between these two fabulous women." —Zibby Owens, Good Morning America 

"Reliably funny...poignant on the aftermath of loss. Written from the sometimes acerbic, sometimes sweet and always laser-sharp perspective of [Kalb's grandmother,] Bobby Bell ... in between are loving recollections of their relationship, including snippets of conversations and voicemails and a steady supply of life advice."—Chris Barton, Los Angeles Times

“I have never read anything that feels truer to my experience of having a Jewish grandmother than Nobody Will Tell You This But Me. Bess Kalb’s memoir is told from the perspective of her grandmother, Bobby, and Bess captures her voice beautifully. Funny, heartwarming, deeply moving.” 
—Emily Burack, Hey Alma 

"A love story that resonates across generations . . . Grandma Bobby's personality radiates from the page. Like a set of nesting dolls, those stories begin as Grandma Bobby recalls the life story of her own mother, [whose] profound vulnerability—and genius at survival—marks the matrilineal line. With determination, creative thinking and practical planning, Bobby helps lift herself and her family out of their gritty working-class roots and into a comfortable lifestyle she eagerly shares with her granddaughter, Bess. The two were instant soulmates . . . The way Kalb honors her grandmother is a testament to their connection. Original, moving, and funny." —Alison Buckholtz, The Florida Times-Union

“Funny, tender and incredibly moving . . . Both a family history and a celebration of the bond between grandmother and granddaughter—a book that gives you a solid cathartic weep and a renewed sense of joy in family ties.” —Mackenzie Dawson, New York Post 
  
“I have not been as profoundly moved by a book in years. If you have a mother or grandmother, or ARE a mother or a grandmother, this is required reading. Bess Kalb's fictional-factual tribute to the relationship she had with her grandmother—the way her history was passed to her by blood, along with bright memories and Jewish guilt and fierce, fierce love—could have been my own story. When I stop crying, I'm calling my mother immediately and making her read it.” —Jodi Picoult

“Tender, funny, fresh, and unconventional, Nobody Will Tell You This But Me manages to make something new and wonderful out of a family memoir. Kalb has a light, lovely touch and a big heart, which combine to make this book irresistible.” —Susan Orlean

“I am in love with the all-consuming, hilarious, primal relationship between Bess Kalb and her late grandmother, Bobby Bell. This memoir made my heart swell, my eyes alight in amazement and joy. Bobby regales her granddaughter with her infinite wisdom, which is almost always over the top and a little bit critical but delivered with love's exuberance.” Al Woodworth, Amazon Book Review
 
“Lively and fascinating, funny yet poignant. There are laughs galore throughout the book . . . [yet] Kalb processes her own grief as she writes, sharing how she reacted in the days following her grandmother’s death. Kalb pulls off [a] daring approach brilliantly—in a bold stroke of literary bravura, she has turned the formula for writing memoirs inside out, bringing her grandmother’s distinctive voice back to life and sharing it with a legion of lucky readers . . . Enthralling.” —Alice Cary, BookPage [starred review]

Nobody Will Tell You This But Me is precisely that—a book no one other than Bess Kalb would think to create. It’s an invented form that has bursts of comic lines as good as in any movie, and pathos as deep as in any novel. I love this book.” —Mike Birbiglia, author of Sleepwalk with Me and The New One

“We are the stories we leave behind, and so we must depend on the storytellers who carry forward our memories. 'Grandma Bobby' gave Bess Kalb gifts of love and language (and lunches at the Plaza!), and in this deeply moving and powerful book, Bess repays her in full with a magnificent act of conjuring. Bobby, and the line of stubborn women of which she was the keystone, lives on in this act of love. This book made me miss my own grandmother, who didn’t have Bobby’s style, but was just as fierce. I wish I had listened to her as carefully as Bess did to Bobby.” —Peter Sagal, host of NPR's Wait, Wait... Don't Tell Me!

"Thank you Bess Kalb for giving us Bobby. She is hilarious and honest and heartbreaking and completely alive in these pages—and I love her." —Gary Janetti, author of Do You Mind If I Cancel?

“An endearing, bittersweet, entertainingly fresh take on the family memoir. Kalb employs an unconventional yet highly effective and charming narrative, channeling the voice and personality of her grandmother, Bobby Bell, who snares readers' attention right from the first, [as] Kalb sharply reimagines her inner thoughts and remembers her fiercely nurturing criticism. The narrative skillfully captures Bobby's wit, worldly advice, well-intentioned meddling, and enduring love for her granddaughter. Readers familiar with the Bobby in their own families will appreciate the stoic overprotectiveness and exasperation that come with being a parent and grandparent. As the book progresses, the story becomes both sad and poignant—the photos and the imagined conversations make for sometimes heartbreaking reading, honoring a beloved grandmother’s legacy.” Kirkus [starred review]

About

NATIONAL BESTSELLER

ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR:
VOGUE • FORBES  BOOKPAGE • NEW YORK POST • WIRED

“I have not been as profoundly moved by a book in years.” —Jodi Picoult


Even after she left home for Hollywood, Emmy-nominated TV writer Bess Kalb saved every voicemail her grandmother Bobby Bell ever left her. Bobby was a force—irrepressible, glamorous, unapologetically opinionated. Bobby doted on Bess; Bess adored Bobby. Then, at ninety, Bobby died. But in this debut memoir, Bobby is speaking to Bess once more, in a voice as passionate as it ever was in life.
 
Recounting both family lore and family secrets, Bobby brings us four generations of indomitable women and the men who loved them. There’s Bobby’s mother, who traveled solo from Belarus to America in the 1880s to escape the pogroms, and Bess’s mother, a 1970s rebel who always fought against convention. But it was Bobby and Bess who always had the most powerful bond: Bobby her granddaughter’s fiercest supporter, giving Bess unequivocal love, even if sometimes of the toughest kind. Nobody Will Tell You This But Me marks the creation of a totally new, virtuosic form of memoir: a reconstruction of a beloved grandmother’s words and wisdom to tell her family’s story with equal parts poignancy and hilarity.

Excerpt

THE MET

Do you remember what we always did when I took you to the Metropolitan Museum of Art?

I’d bring a yellow legal pad and pencils, and we’d sit in front of the paintings and you’d sketch.

“Bessarabia, what do you see?”

“Haystacks.”

“I didn’t realize I was accompanied by the chief art critic of The New York Times.

“What am I supposed to see?”

“You tell me.”

And you’d get very close to the painting, your nose just a breath away from the varnish—the guards would bark at you and you’d jump back with an electric jolt and straighten your back, and we’d both wince and shrug at each other. And you’d collect yourself and clear your throat and stand there with your arms crossed, solemnly squinting at the paint- ing, rocking from foot to foot like a grand appraiser. Thirty seconds. A minute. Five minutes. You’d occasionally stroke your chin with two fingers like you’d seen Bugs Bunny do in a cartoon. You might as well have wiped your monocle on a handkerchief.

Finally, when there was practically steam coming out of your ears, you’d have your fully prepared remarks: “I think he loved hay and he probably loved painting.”

And I’d turn to the guard and say, “She charges fifty cents for a tour.”

After the art was the main event: the cheese plate. We’d go to the grand old cafeteria where it used to be in the back of the museum in the columned atrium. We’d line up, pick out two plastic containers full of cheese, find a quiet table away from the tourists and talk, and eat our snack very methodically. First the brie, scooping it out from the rind with the water crackers, and then we’d press a sliced strawberry into the soft cheese and eat it just like that. We were very French, you and I.

We’d eat the cheddar, throw away the blue; then on the way out the main entrance you’d buy a postcard of your favorite painting. Always something with flowers.
 
· · ·

METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART,
PERMANENT COLLECTION, 1994
 
GRANDMOTHER: Bessie, I want you to go around these rooms and take this notepad and tell me how many paintings were done by a woman.

GRANDDAUGHTER: And then we can look at the ballerinas?

A building full of all the greatest masterpieces, and all you want is to see how an old man kept wandering into dance practice. I’d have had him arrested.

I like the ballerinas.

After this we can see as many damned ballerinas as you can stand.

[THIRTY MINUTES LATER]

OK! Eight women.

Eight!

Yep.

Did you write them down?

[STUMBLING THROUGH PRONUNCIATIONS]

Simone Martini, Andrea del Sarto, Camille Corot, Annibale Carracci, Andrea Mantegna, Jules Bastien-Lepage, Camille Pissarro, and Jan Steen.

Oh, honey. Give that here.

[EXTRACTS GLASSES FROM GIANT HANDBAG, LOOKS AT THE PAPER]

Did I miss any? I saw them all.

All of those are men.

They have girls’ names.

They’re just European names.

Did I miss the women?

There aren’t any women.

It was a trick?

It was a lesson.

What’s the lesson?

If you’re born a man and halfway decent at something, everyone will tell you you’re great. There’s only one woman nearby. Right through here in the American wing.

[TAKES HAND AND WALKS ME INTO THE NEXT GALLERY]

Here she is. Lady at the Tea Table. Mary Cassatt.

I like it.

Yes, you do. You know how you can tell a Mary Cassatt?

How?

She was kind to her subjects. She left out their hips.

Praise

"A funny, touching and timely reminder of the solace to be found in kindred spirits." People

“I delighted in Bobby’s joy. I cried twice.” —Miranda Popkey, The New York Times Book Review

"A poignant and funny look at four generations of women." —Stephanie Merry, The Washington Post

"A unique take on a close daughter-grandmother relationship; a beautiful tribute to Kalb's grandmother, Bobby. Told in her hilarious grandmother’s voice, Bess’s memoir chronicles her family’s story and the love story between these two fabulous women." —Zibby Owens, Good Morning America 

"Reliably funny...poignant on the aftermath of loss. Written from the sometimes acerbic, sometimes sweet and always laser-sharp perspective of [Kalb's grandmother,] Bobby Bell ... in between are loving recollections of their relationship, including snippets of conversations and voicemails and a steady supply of life advice."—Chris Barton, Los Angeles Times

“I have never read anything that feels truer to my experience of having a Jewish grandmother than Nobody Will Tell You This But Me. Bess Kalb’s memoir is told from the perspective of her grandmother, Bobby, and Bess captures her voice beautifully. Funny, heartwarming, deeply moving.” 
—Emily Burack, Hey Alma 

"A love story that resonates across generations . . . Grandma Bobby's personality radiates from the page. Like a set of nesting dolls, those stories begin as Grandma Bobby recalls the life story of her own mother, [whose] profound vulnerability—and genius at survival—marks the matrilineal line. With determination, creative thinking and practical planning, Bobby helps lift herself and her family out of their gritty working-class roots and into a comfortable lifestyle she eagerly shares with her granddaughter, Bess. The two were instant soulmates . . . The way Kalb honors her grandmother is a testament to their connection. Original, moving, and funny." —Alison Buckholtz, The Florida Times-Union

“Funny, tender and incredibly moving . . . Both a family history and a celebration of the bond between grandmother and granddaughter—a book that gives you a solid cathartic weep and a renewed sense of joy in family ties.” —Mackenzie Dawson, New York Post 
  
“I have not been as profoundly moved by a book in years. If you have a mother or grandmother, or ARE a mother or a grandmother, this is required reading. Bess Kalb's fictional-factual tribute to the relationship she had with her grandmother—the way her history was passed to her by blood, along with bright memories and Jewish guilt and fierce, fierce love—could have been my own story. When I stop crying, I'm calling my mother immediately and making her read it.” —Jodi Picoult

“Tender, funny, fresh, and unconventional, Nobody Will Tell You This But Me manages to make something new and wonderful out of a family memoir. Kalb has a light, lovely touch and a big heart, which combine to make this book irresistible.” —Susan Orlean

“I am in love with the all-consuming, hilarious, primal relationship between Bess Kalb and her late grandmother, Bobby Bell. This memoir made my heart swell, my eyes alight in amazement and joy. Bobby regales her granddaughter with her infinite wisdom, which is almost always over the top and a little bit critical but delivered with love's exuberance.” Al Woodworth, Amazon Book Review
 
“Lively and fascinating, funny yet poignant. There are laughs galore throughout the book . . . [yet] Kalb processes her own grief as she writes, sharing how she reacted in the days following her grandmother’s death. Kalb pulls off [a] daring approach brilliantly—in a bold stroke of literary bravura, she has turned the formula for writing memoirs inside out, bringing her grandmother’s distinctive voice back to life and sharing it with a legion of lucky readers . . . Enthralling.” —Alice Cary, BookPage [starred review]

Nobody Will Tell You This But Me is precisely that—a book no one other than Bess Kalb would think to create. It’s an invented form that has bursts of comic lines as good as in any movie, and pathos as deep as in any novel. I love this book.” —Mike Birbiglia, author of Sleepwalk with Me and The New One

“We are the stories we leave behind, and so we must depend on the storytellers who carry forward our memories. 'Grandma Bobby' gave Bess Kalb gifts of love and language (and lunches at the Plaza!), and in this deeply moving and powerful book, Bess repays her in full with a magnificent act of conjuring. Bobby, and the line of stubborn women of which she was the keystone, lives on in this act of love. This book made me miss my own grandmother, who didn’t have Bobby’s style, but was just as fierce. I wish I had listened to her as carefully as Bess did to Bobby.” —Peter Sagal, host of NPR's Wait, Wait... Don't Tell Me!

"Thank you Bess Kalb for giving us Bobby. She is hilarious and honest and heartbreaking and completely alive in these pages—and I love her." —Gary Janetti, author of Do You Mind If I Cancel?

“An endearing, bittersweet, entertainingly fresh take on the family memoir. Kalb employs an unconventional yet highly effective and charming narrative, channeling the voice and personality of her grandmother, Bobby Bell, who snares readers' attention right from the first, [as] Kalb sharply reimagines her inner thoughts and remembers her fiercely nurturing criticism. The narrative skillfully captures Bobby's wit, worldly advice, well-intentioned meddling, and enduring love for her granddaughter. Readers familiar with the Bobby in their own families will appreciate the stoic overprotectiveness and exasperation that come with being a parent and grandparent. As the book progresses, the story becomes both sad and poignant—the photos and the imagined conversations make for sometimes heartbreaking reading, honoring a beloved grandmother’s legacy.” Kirkus [starred review]