Portrait of My Body by Philip Lopate: Book Review

The body is a mystery; it holds power that no single part of a person does because it is as close to the Self as you can get. Lopate seems to understand this, and feel it strongly, because he goes into such a detailed explanation of the body that it sounds as though he is searching for himself.

The use of the word Portrait in Lopate's title is fitting for his piece, because regardless of how one may attempt to explain themselves as someone else might, there will always be a taint from the person doing the describing, like there is always interpretation when a painted makes a portrait of someone. It blends well with truth, since truth is interpretation, also.

The entire piece starts with the pronoun "I", which, while we have seen it in many of the works we've read this semester, it interesting because we immediately come in to an exposition of the Self as the author sees it. It is both good and bad, but indifferent. It's interesting to see a personal essay told with indifference, because from a first person point of view, the reader expects opinion from the beginning. "I am a man who tilts." It is not something you expect to hear out of anyone, because it is strange, but probably true, one of those observations we see every day but don't think about. It all comes down to point of view, and since we are all self-centered beings we normally think in the "I". This isn't because we aren't concerned with the thoughts and opinions of others, but because all we know is what we've been told by others as being true for them.

It's also rare to hear a person contemplate the negative aspects of their personality matter-of-factly; most people will say these things in self-deprecating ways. When Lopate says, "...I do not like myself at all, but out of stubborn pride I act like a man who does," it's very detached, as though he isn't even speaking about himself. He admits to vanity, but doesn't get hung up on it. It's very Taoist in its attitude of 'it just is.'

Lopate also talks about the mental image of the body and how it changes slower than the body does. "Mine was for a long while arrested in my early twenties when I was tall and thin (165 pounds) and gobbles down whatever I felt like. I ate food that was cheap and filling, cheeseburgers, pizza, without the thought of putting on weight." It's a statement everyone can identify with, especially when you reach the age where you realize your metabolism isn't keeping up with you anymore.

In the end, the Body turns into the Self for Lopate, as he moves into feelings about how his body is received, and how it makes him feel. " "Cute" is often a word applied to me by those I've been fortunate enough to attract. Then again, I attract only women of a certain lopsided prettiness: the head-turning, professional beauties never fall for me."

Just as you think Lopate will hold on to his outsider's point of view, he begins what he calls a gossip column about his body. He proceeds to bash himself, but still remains unemotional about the subject area, which only becomes odd when you think, 'Wait, he's talking about his own body!'

I wonder in reading the entire page and a half about the penis, if there would be this much discussion of genitalia if a woman had written this piece. Not to be sexist, but I don't think a woman defines herself by her body parts as much as Lopate seems to, as much as most men seem to, really. It's interesting that of all the subjects Lopate touches on while discussing his body, that is where he spends the most time. "This part of me, which is so synecdochially identified with the make body...has given me both too little, and too much, information about what it means to be a man." While I understand this statement, I find it perplexing also, because I don't understand how he means it.

Can someone be completely removed from the truth of the Self, then, in order to write a personal essay like Lopate's? While this is a matter of opinion, I think I can wager a guess. No, of course not. That would be like trying to tell a fish, write like you don't live underwater. Or rather, write about living under water as though you didn't.

Is Lopate's description of his own body to be taken as truth? Is his portrayal accurate? It's possible, but it doesn't matter in the long run, because how he describes it is exactly how he sees it. Furthermore, most of the time talking about ones self in our society is looked upon as egotism, or self-absorption. Is the personal essay, then, the greatest way to scratch ones own back? When Lopate talks about himself, he is being objective, but it is still a man who is talking about himself, in the end. He picks apart every nuance of what seems to make him himself, but comes to the same conclusion, that he is what he is.