“Becoming Duchess Goldblatt”, by Anonymous ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I was hesitant to write a review of Becoming Duchess Goldblatt, because, in all honesty, I was uncertain that I could do justice to this coruscant jewel of a book, which is equal parts autobiography and the history of a whimsical, but meaningful, social-media phenomenon.

For readers who are unaware of the backstory, Duchess Goldblatt is the fictional persona behind a pseudonymous Twitter account, cast as an 80-ish author of world renown, a self-described great beauty, once a resident of the real town of Klein, Texas, and now abiding in the fictional (and appropriately fanciful) town of Crooked Path, New York. In real life, however, the mind behind the Duchess is that of a woman, whose real identity is a closely-held secret, who created the Duchess alter-ego as an escape (dare I say it) from her life’s unfolding tragedies.

Shaped by a dark childhood, with a distant mother who quite frankly disliked her, an ineffectual father whose grounding in a seminary education carried to the extreme the concept of turning the other cheek, and a decade-older brother whose mental illness and lifelong alcoholism drove the family dynamic, the anonymous creator of the Duchess Goldblatt character sought in marriage the kind of family life that she had longed to experience growing up.

That dream evaporated one day, mere weeks after she and her husband and young son had moved into a new house, when her husband announced that he wanted a divorce—a decision precipitated, or so he said, because she spent too much money on a new couch. In the wake of that announcement, Anonymous lost more than a misanthropic weasel of a husband (my words, not hers…); she also lost the extended family on her husband’s side that she had come to cherish; mutual friends—and most painful of all, many, if not most, of her own friends.

In the midst of this bleak period, when the academic publishing company where she worked was being dismantled after a vicious corporate takeover à la Wall Street, Anonymous tiptoed—anonymously, bien sûr—into the world of social media. Adopting the pen name Duchess Goldblatt (the story behind this decision is amusing, and I will not spoil it for you), and selecting the 1633 Frans Hals painting Portrait of an Elderly Lady to be the visual avatar of the account.

The story of the growth of Duchess’ following on social media, which flowered after she migrated from Facebook (though she never names the site) to Twitter, is a shining beacon of a tale that stands out from the gloomy quagmire that social media can often be—even as Anonymous worked through job changes, moved house to a creaking fixer-upper, and navigated the shifting minefield of post-divorce family dynamics.

Her quirky, offhand online remarks drew the attention of thousands, beginning, as these things often do, with a re-tweet by one of Anonymous’s favorite writers, Elizabeth McCracken. Social media followings are the cybernetic equivalent of a snowball rolling down hill, or in this case, an avalanche, and from that beginning, word of this quirky, dryly witty account spread like wildfire.

Duchess gained dedicated followers amongst the literary and publishing worlds, and through the followers of the famous, thousands more (as of this writing, 42.4k, according to Twitter.) Her followers visited the museum where the Frans Hal portrait hangs and took selfies with it. Friend groups formed. Followers confessed to Duchess how her words of wisdom had helped them though dark nights. Duchess was a phenomenon… 

The real strength of this book, however, is less in the narrative describing the flowering of the Duchess Goldblatt social-media phenomenon and its effect on the account’s followers, but the way in which the Duchess persona affected its author. I got the feeling, when reading the book, that the Duchess persona was like a guide to the true heart of its creator’s character, a beam of light that cast back the shadows of her earlier life’s hardships and disappointments. Reading, and re-reading, of her journey through that transformation is a heart-warming experience.

The insights into the life of Duchess Goldblatt’s creator are the heart of this book. Her experiences of motherhood, her unique (I think it safe to say) relationship with her son, and the way she navigated a torrent of hardship and not only remained sane, but righted, again and again, the careering vessel of her life, are fascinating to read about—more so, even, than the improbable friendship she formed, through the Duchess persona’s social-media presence, with her favorite musical performer, Lyle Lovett (who is one of the trusted few who know her identity.)

If you are reading this review you are probably already aware of Duchess Goldblatt and are one of her followers, or possibly you have heard of her, and are curious, but haven’t yet dipped a toe into the Goldblattian Twitter stream, or committed to purchasing this book. If that is so, I urge you to forget the toe-dip and take the plunge.

Becoming Duchess Goldblatt is available through indie booksellers everywhere, or if you must, from the usual well-known giant online retailers. Buy it where you will—we won’t judge…