Description:
Despite the fact that it opens with a paralyzing wrestling injury, Three Quarters, Two Dimes, and a Nickel by Steve Fiffer is one upbeat memoir. After exposing the reader to the numbing psychological aftershock of the injury he suffered at the age of 17--"The accident had fractured more than my fifth cervical vertebra, broken more than my neck. It had fractured reality, broken time"--the book quickly gives way to a sincere and sustained optimism, free of self-pity and sentimentality. The horrific event is effectively turned into a defining experience rather than the primary focus of the rest of his life. Just seven months after being told by doctors that he would never walk again, he manages to enter his first class at Yale University on crutches rather than in a wheelchair. That he would someday walk again seems less a dream than an inevitability: "I wasn't supposed to walk again. I wanted to walk. So I did." But there is much more to Fiffer's coming-of-age tale than his efforts to retrain his legs. In poignant descriptions of personal awakenings, sexual stirrings (and frustrations), and the common desire for acceptance, "becoming whole" extends far beyond the task of dealing with a broken vertebra. He may not be a dollar bill, he explains, but "three quarters, two dimes, and nickel" add up to the same thing in the end. Some of the book's more colorful and moving passages feature Dick Woit, a former pro-football player who subsists entirely on Cool Whip and whom Fiffer enlists for some tough love. In the manic guru-cum-trainer's first meeting with Fiffer, Woit refers to him as "Crip," promptly instructs him to hit the deck and perform some sit-ups, then declares his effort, and current physical state, "pathetic." Thus motivated, Fiffer begins regularly attending Coach Woit's gym to battle for control of his legs and his life. His struggle to walk makes his story intriguing, even suspenseful, while his grappling with larger issues makes it universal and inspiring. Told with candor and plenty of humor, Three Quarters, Two Dimes, and a Nickel beautifully defines the subtle differences between simply enduring an unimaginable twist of fate and actually making something good of it. --Shawn Carkonen
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