Sarah Ruhl writes about everything with the clarity of a water droplet and the power of a waterfall. I’m not sure I’ve ever read or heard any of her work, in any genre or form, without crying at least a little. Smile: The Story of a Face is no different, though perhaps even more personal and vulnerable, so that reading it feels like being trusted with something fragile and intimate. A reflection on symmetry and divisions, on motherhood and marriage and meditation, on what it is to see and to be seen. A deeply moving, absorbing book; I'd expect nothing less from Sarah Ruhl, and I'm grateful to have read it.

Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for the advance copy in exchange for an honest review!

When playwright Sarah Ruhl gave birth to twins after a difficult pregnancy, something happened and she developed Bells Palsy, a condition that forever changes her self-perception and the way she feels comfortable confronting the world. This memoir discusses that journey. What sets it apart from similar stories is her curiosity and engagement with the wider world. She has a successful career in the arts and must work diligently to keep producing art while taking care of babies and her own health. And so she asks what a smiles mean, anyway? Why must a woman be expected to smile in every circumstance? Will her babies be alienated from a mother who can't beam down at them with a loving face? And beyond sociology, Ruhl must also navigate a complicated medical system that doesn't know how to go about treating her. Both sorrow and a nod to the absurdist situation this condition has brought to her are here in the story. And it might be a sort of path for others in similar circumstances to follow. This memoir is excellent and recommended.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an advanced copy of this lovely book.

Thanks to Netgalley and Simon and Schuster for the ebook. The playwright Sarah Ruhl is pregnant with twins and after the births, she finds that she has Bell’s palsy. While most people have this for three months, Sarah starts a ten year odyssey as she tries to take care of her new children, continue to write and stage her plays and try to heal herself on the outside and the inside. Blunt, honest, moving and filled with warmth and humor. This is a fascinating journey.

Beautifully-written memoir that really captures what it's like to have a chronic medical condition (in which ones "wins" are slowly measured out in the course of years instead of weeks or days.) I really appreciated the use of photography to outline examples in the book.

I knew very little about Bell's Palsy before reading this book (especially how common it could be for postpartum women) and learned a lot from Ruhl's experience--not only how it felt for her, but also the importance we put on faces and smiles in our communications and community building. Like most complex medical conditions, losing one's smile is something few of us ever take time to consider.

As someone who has complex chronic medical issues, I really appreciated the author's detailed description of her healing. I too am all too familiar with the "making it up as you go" process of trying everything and everyone and what it feels like to encounter dismissive, distracted healers whose bad advice ends up adding years to your journey. Those stories are some of the most gripping and sad (the PT at the gym!) in the book.

The weakness of the book is one the author acknowledges herself. It's a slow one, without a dramatic finale. In that way, the softer focus of this memoir might be overshadowed by others which tell a more harrowing tale. However, those more dramatic memoirs often suffer from sub-par writing. There is no doubt that Ruhl has a way with words. It's that gift that keep this particular story moving and the reader engaged.

I received an ARC of this book courtesy of NetGalley and the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

In Smile, Sarah Ruhl recounts losing her smile, a result of postpartum Bell's Palsy, and how she got it back. Overall, I enjoyed this memoir. Ruhl's writing is simple and easy to read. I loved how this read, to me, as a series of anecdotes. Throughout, Ruhl ruminates on the importance of a smile and how the ability to smile affects one's ability to feel joy.

Ruhl writes candidly about pregnancy and about the shame that often accompanies miscarriages and complicated pregnancies even though these are fairly common incidents. She writes of her experience with western medicine and doctors, who do not listen and are uninterested in patient history. And through these experiences we learn about Bell's Palsy, cholestasis and Celiac disease, and of the alternative medicine and methods that help her to find her smile.

A lovely memoir, sprinkled with quirky humor and lots of warmth.

I picked this up because my husband was experiencing a bout of Bell's Palsy, and I was interested in hearing other's experiences other than just the brief glimpses and insights you may find online. I thought it was quite interesting, and I appreciated that the author shared her story.

I loved the beginning of this book and deeply related to the push/pull between motherhood and creativity. Once the gluten free/dietary stuff became more of a storyline, I was less engaged. I understood that this is a real thing for the author, and appreciated her attempts at humor. But the quest to try things (acupuncture) and eliminate things (gluten) was less interesting to me than the mental/emotional journey of making sense of motherhood and a changed body.

I started reading Smile by Sarah Ruhl because my husband was experiencing Bell's Palsy, but I kept reading because it was so compelling. This book would also be good to recommend to readers who are interested in narratives about pregnancy, child raising, and postpartum depression, as well as about her experiences in the theater.

The disturbing failure of the medical system seems to stick w me more than the redemption of her improvement / recovery. I don't often connect w stories that have poetry or literary references I don’t know. I understand why others will love this book. Some phrasing and raw admissions were gut punches for sure.

Having seen several of Sarah Ruhl’s plays, I was excited to read SMILE, which chronicles the playwright’s decade- long struggle with Bell’s Palsy, a condition which paralyzes one half of the face. While it’s not uncommon for women to develop Bell’s Palsy after childbirth,as most see their face return to normal in a few weeks or months. Ruhl’s face remained paralyzed, however. She is remarkably candid as she charts her emotional journey of living with the condition. Her anger, fear and self-doubt are palpable. She brings to light many things you’ve probably never even thought about, like how it feels to not be able to blink, and asks deep questions about how much our faces and bodies define who we are. There are also some moments of memorable humor, mostly courtesy of Ruhl’s children.
As a person with a congenital disability ( Cerebral Palsy), this book got me pondering, again, the difference between being born with a disability versus developing one. I doubt I’ll ever get to the stage of acceptance that Ruhl seems to have finally reached. I’ll probably always be bitter about the things I never had the chance to do or experience, but I applaud Ruhl for coming to a place of acceptance and even love, of her new face.

Playwright Sarah Ruhl is someone with whose name and work I was only vaguely familiar. However, her memoir sounded unique, so I thought I would check it out. The overarching theme is Ms. Ruhl's experience of Bell's palsy, which she developed after giving birth to twins. For the vast majority of people, Bell's palsy resolves in a relatively short period. However, Ms. Ruhl is among the 5% of patients for whom Bell's palsy becomes a chronic (and for some people permanent) condition. Because Bell's palsy affects the nerves on one side of the face, a person with Bell's palsy has difficulty or is unable to make normal facial expressions, especially smiling. Much of the discussion in the book focuses on the social/cultural aspects of smiling and the difficulties one experiences when unable to properly smile; a problem especially for women, who are held to higher standards regarding physical appearance and for failure to smile tends to have negative connotations (resting b***h face, for example). After reading "Smile", the reader will never look at the act of smiling the same way again.

Ms. Ruhl also talks about her family history, childhood, theatrical career, the challenges of motherhood and being a working mother (both self-imposed and societally imposed challenges), her marriage, and her religious beliefs. She discusses the various treatments, conventional and non-traditional, she tried to cure or improve her Bell's palsy, the different attitudes and bedside manners of the various practitioners, and what made the "good" practitioners "good", even if their treatments were not successful or only partially beneficial. Ms. Ruhl focuses a lot on her attitude and feelings towards her smile and her appearance and her difficulties coming to accept her appearance. One thing I particularly liked about the memoir is Ms. Ruhl's discussion at the end of the memoir of the lessons she had learned from her crooked smile -- about endurance, the adaptability of the body and mind, communicating joy in ways other than smiling, etc.

One of the most poignant moments in the memoir is when Ms. Ruhl's mother, who had a bout of Bell's palsy that resolved in a relatively short period, expressed guilt at not being able to recognize the emotions that Ms. Ruhl was trying to convey with her facial expressions. She felt that because of their shared experience, she should have been able to decipher the emotions her daughter was trying to express.

One of the funniest moments is when she was attending rehearsals of her adaptation of the Virginia Woolf novel "Orlando", which involves a man changing into a woman. She felt it would be too distracting to bring the twins to rehearsal to breastfeed, so she alternated bringing Hope and William. The costume designer did not realize Ms. Ruhl had twins and thought that she was making a political point by dressing her baby as a girl one day and a boy the next.

I received a copy of the e-book via NetGalley in exchange for a review.

This is several books in one compact volume. My reading time is short these days, so I really appreciate books like this where the author does a lot in a small space.

Ruhl experienced a looooong bout of Bell's Palsy following the birth of twins. This is a raw account of her experiences with disfigurement, inadequate medical treatment, and the struggle through it over more than a decade, all while parenting her growing family and keeping marriage and career afloat.

She also weaves in ruminations on faces and the social function of smiling. I found her descriptions of trying to "make nice" when unable to smile particularly poignant.

This is a great read for anyone interested in the world of medicine, women's appearances and roles, parenting; a must read for anyone who has or loves someone with Bell's Palsy.

With thanks to NetGalley for the eArc.

A really great 150 page book is hiding within these pages; as it stands, it's quite a good deal too long and often seems somewhat repetitive. Ruhl is an incredible writer, as is evidenced by her entire career, and I wonder if there's just something about the memoir form and its relative lack of constraint which contributed to a less tightly edited text than one might expect. Still, there's plenty to love in here; Ruhl's musings on beauty and femininity as it applies to her 'new' face are genuinly insightful, and I loved the touches of wry humour when describing her family. The passages on motherhood were particularly great. I would happily read another whole book full of her thoughts on what it means to be a mother. In fact, I think I'd pretty happily read just about everything Ruhl writes.

Who are we when we cease to be perceived? What makes up the very marrow of our souls? And what happens when we cannot exhibit that soul?
Sarah Ruhl is one of the greatest writers of the 21st century. Her sense of poignant honesty, punctuated by her keen perception of life, are inimitable. To read her words is to lay ones spirit down upon the hearth of hope.

I was intrigued by this book after one of my fellow big-mouth librarians recommended it. Sarah Ruhl is an award-winning playwright who developed Bell's palsy after giving birth to her twins. Ruhl's voice carries the memoir, starting with the story of how she got pregnant and moving through the different phases of her life with her condition. Flashbacks take the reader to past moments when necessary, and Ruhl's lyrical prose makes it all seamless. I felt like I got to know her so well. Ruhl learns a lot about herself and how other people see her - I definitely empathized with the parts where she talks about how women are culturally conditioned to smile. As a person with RBF, I get told to smile constantly - even when wearing a mask! Ruhl discusses the Duchenne smile, which is a real, spontaneous smile - the kind that reaches a person's eyes. I guess others can tell if a smile is real even when the person is wearing a mask. Anyway, Ruhl's smile became distorted and asymmetric, and she discusses how this affected her and her children, and how her outlook changed because of it. I highly recommend this memoir, even if you don't think you would enjoy a book about a medical condition - Ruhl's insights about writing, parenthood, and our culture at large are worth reading.

An incredibly relatable story brought to life by a master storyteller, this book made me think, laugh, and even smile. I highly recommend this book to anyone -- it's a light, unique, and memorable read.

Thank you #netgalley for the advanced copy!

An adorable story about a play write who developed Bell’s Palsy after delivering twins. A lot of great information, both emotional and factual, is presented regarding this affliction and situation. I could only imagine what she went through! Thank you NetGalley for the ARC.

"Smile" by Sara Ruhl is a beautiful memoir of the author's decade-journey as she tries to find a cure, both through Western and Eastern treatments, to Bell's palsy, that paralyzed the left side of her face after giving birth to her twins, Hope and William.

The successful playwright takes us on a journey through her past and struggling present, remembering her parents and teachers and the lessons she learned from them, trying to apply them to her current dilemma. As the book progresses, we begin to see changes in Ruhl, psychological, spiritual, and physical. Having read a myriad of books, the author begins questioning what she was thought she knew about facial expressions, above all smiling, and how important they are, especially when raising her three kids. By delving more into the essence of human expression, Ruhl learns more than ever that emotions start from the inside and are then expressed on the out. Interestingly enough, only when she begins to slowly accept her "new" face does she truly begin to heal. She begins to focus on all the blessings that she has instead of her asymmetrical face.

The part I loved most about the book is how she kept using philosophical questions throughout the book to find herself and give sense to why she's struggling. She made me question all the things that we take for granted and focus more on the true essence of life itself.

A beautiful journey of self-love and self-acceptance.

"Imperfection calls out for affinity-for the beloved to say, I too am broken, but here I am. May I join you?"

Thank you to Simon and Schuster and Netgalley for providing me with an advanced copy of the book.

Smile is a memoir from playwright Sarah Ruhl, recounting some fairly momentous events in her life. Her first play was ready to open on Broadway and she was pregnant with twins. Already the mother of a young daughter, during her pregnancy she developed cholestasis, a liver condition that can endanger the pregnancy. After delivering her son and daughter, Ruhl then developed Bell's palsy, a neuromuscular condition that paralyzed the left side of her face, making her unable to smile. Despite the fact that she is later diagnosed with celiac disease, this is not a medical memoir, but rather a chronicle of her life, attempts at treatment, and how she felt about her "disfigurement" over a decade. Some of it is funny, like this exchange when the Bell's palsy makes it difficult to pronounce her daughter's name:
“Excuse me, I don’t think I heard you right. William and – Ho?”
“Ho-pe,” I said, sounding like I’d had a stroke.
“Ho?”
I spelled and yelled “H-O-P-E! Like the feeling?”
“Oh, Hope!”
“Yes!” I yelled, wanting to smile at the absurdity of the situation (that’s right, I named my twin babies ho and pimp), but I couldn’t."

Much of the book is a poignant reflection on smiles, how Ruhl's inability to fully smile made her feel, and how she felt this affected her relationships with people, particularly her children.
"I felt inside a paradox: I thought I could not truly reenter the world until I could smile again; and yet how could I be happy enough to smile again when I couldn't reenter the world?"

Ruhl has included photos throughout the book, and I appreciated these. It gave me a better idea of what she looked like and how her facial muscles worked (or didn't).
"But joy? Of course there was joy. Amid the stress and the sleepless nights, there was plenty of joy. But when I look back at those years, there are no pictures of me smiling with my babies. And in this day and age, we sometimes seem to care more about the record of joy than the experience of joy itself."

I've never seen one of Ruhl's plays, nor read any of her other books, but I did like her writing in Smile. I could imagine her life with three children under five, trying to write, and teaching at Yale, but she never came across as a woman who had it all together and made it look easy. Even though she had won a Macarthur grant and was a Pulitzer finalist in addition to many other awards, she was much like the rest of us trying to get through our days in the best way we can. Her Bell's palsy affected her deeply, and just when I was starting to think maybe she was verging on self-pity, she writes about discussing her face with a friend. ""It's not a tragedy, " she said, "but it must be disappointing." I suppose this distinction between the disappointing and the tragic sheds light on why I resisted writing about Bell's palsy for a long time."

Hopefully most of our lives are not filled with tragedy, but we all have disappointments, small and large. In Smile, Ruhl explains how she has dealt with her disappointments and tells a compelling story.

Thank you to Simon and Schuster and Netgalley for providing me with a copy of the book.

Smile starts out with the onset of Bell’s Palsy following the birth of twins for our author, Sara Ruhl. Throughout the book, she mentions all the efforts she makes to rid herself of that disfigurement. I say, “mentions” because the focus of the book was really on her career as a playwright and on her commentaries on how facial beauty is received and perceived in life.

As one who suffered from Bell’s Palsy (and thankfully recovered), I am always interested in reading and learning everything I can about this mysterious paralysis. Also I had a friend who was victimized following childbirth in 1970, but has never returned to normal. So I have several different interests in learning more about this problem.

It was an interesting memoir. I’m thankful to NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity of this early digital copy.