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| 1. The Glass Castle: A Memoir by Jeannette Walls | |
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(2006-01-09)
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Editorial Review Later, when the money ran out, or the romance of the wandering life faded, the Walls retreated to the dismal West Virginia mining town -- and the family -- Rex Walls had done everything he could to escape. He drank. He stole the grocery money and disappeared for days. As the dysfunction of the family escalated, Jeannette and her brother and sisters had to fend for themselves, supporting one another as they weathered their parents' betrayals and, finally, found the resources and will to leave home. What is so astonishing about Jeannette Walls is not just that she had the guts and tenacity and intelligence to get out, but that she describes her parents with such deep affection and generosity. Hers is a story of triumph against all odds, but also a tender, moving tale of unconditional love in a family that despite its profound flaws gave her the fiery determination to carve out a successful life on her own terms. For two decades, Jeannette Walls hid her roots. Now she tells her own story. A regular contributor to MSNBC.com, she lives in New York and Long Island and is married to the writer John Taylor. Reviews
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| 2. The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid: A Memoir by Bill Bryson | |
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(2007-09-25)
list price: $15.99 -- our price: $10.87 (price subject to change: see help) Isbn: 0767919378 Publisher: Broadway Sales Rank: 1154 Average Customer Review: US | Canada | United Kingdom | Germany | France | Japan |
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| 3. The Lost Boy: A Foster Child's Search for the Love of a Family by Dave Pelzer | |
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This will book will make you cry, it will make you mad, and at the end, you will be cheering and crying tears of joy for Dave. This book will break your heart and if you are a parent, you will be outraged at the abuse. Sadly, child abuse is so prevalent, and there are so many cunning, and devious parents out there, that some children do not get out and the abuse is "allowed" to go on and on or the child is killed. Dave's strength, determination, and unbreakable spirit shine throughout this book. How he survived the brutality can only be called a miracle. It breaks my heart to read of such incredible abuse and one does have to thank the foster parents, social works and teachers in this child's life. Dave says, "It takes a community to save a child", and I wholeheartedly agree. Dave takes you through his five different foster families during his adolescent years and his desperate determination to find the love of a family and a "home" propels him by not abandoning hope. Dave's inner strength, courage, and fortitude are a shining inspiration to us all. God bless you Dave and the work that you are doing to help other children. Thank you for opening our eyes and sharing "your" story.
I think the reason why I was so hooked on this book was because it was a continuation from Pelzer's first book that I enjoyed so much. It was moving learning and reading about Dave Pelzer's life and what actually does happen to foster children when everything doesn't work. I never knew that it was rare for a child to stay in a foster home for long periods of time, but it was made clear in this book. It touched my heart in so many ways and made me especially sympathetic for those many children who have had rough lives because of their horrendous families.
Grant wrote of the experiences and people Bad and Good that he encountered while an abandoned,abused,handicapped child in state child care for over 15 years, representing less than 1% of the children who end up in state-sponsored care. Grant later went on to receive a college degree and even to lecture grad students on issues facing such children. This book serves a valuable purpose in forwarding little known issues for general public review and consumption. ... Read more | |
| 4. Waiting for Snow in Havana: Confessions of a Cuban Boy by Carlos Eire | |
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Editorial Review "Have mercy on me, Lord, I am Cuban." In 1962, Carlos Eire was one of 14,000 children airlifted out of Cuba -- exiled from his family, his country, and his own childhood by the revolution. The memories of Carlos's life in Havana, cut short when he was just eleven years old, are at the heart of this stunning, evocative, and unforgettable memoir. Waiting for Snow in Havana is both an exorcism and an ode to a paradise lost. For the Cuba of Carlos's youth -- with its lizards and turquoise seas and sun-drenched siestas -- becomes an island of condemnation once a cigar-smoking guerrilla named Fidel Castro ousts President Batista on January 1, 1959. Suddenly the music in the streets sounds like gunfire. Christmas is made illegal, political dissent leads to imprisonment, and too many of Carlos's friends are leaving Cuba for a place as far away and unthinkable as the United States. Carlos will end up there, too, and fulfill his mother's dreams by becoming a modern American man -- even if his soul remains in the country he left behind. Narrated with the urgency of a confession, Waiting for Snow in Havana is a eulogy for a native land and a loving testament to the collective spirit of Cubans everywhere. Reviews
" Have mercy on me, Lord, I am a Cuban. " ----------------------------------------------------------------- Hundreds of books have been written about the horrors inflicted on the Cuban people by Castro, or to call him by the official title he bestowed upon himself, in a characteristic moment of humility, " The Maximum Leader. " Some have been written by survivors of Casro's prison camps, or by other Cubans, who nowdays are as bewildered as they are angered when some Hollywood Celeb--or some other famous twit-- makes a trip to Havana to shoot the breeze with Fidel. (Pol Pot and Nero being unavailable) And come back singing his praises. For Carlos Eire, his reawakening came in the aftermath of the Elian Gonzales affair. Carlos knew the kid was being sent back to hell by a sleazy administration under the eyes of a largely uncaring American public. Eire had done well for himself. A happily married family man and a respected professor at Yale, he thought he had put his Cuban past behind him, that it was no longer was capable of hurting him. He was wrong. As he admitted on T.V., He became wildly frantic and was unable to know a moment's peace until he finished writing his story, the confessions of a boy growing up in Havana at the time of Castro's takeover. For a hurriedly written memoir, this is a magnificent masterpiece. More poignant than the graphic documentations of tortured prisoners. Eire is truly an amazing writer. He weaves vivid imagery and dark humor into a fast paced, fascinating tale. As he states in his preamble: " This is not a work of fiction. But the author would like it to be. " This is a Greek tragedy set in the Caribbean. Fate may not be personified, but it's there, whether one calls it luck or any other name. Moderns who are into positive thinking may not relate to that aspect of it; Sophocles would have no problem. But for anyone who appreciates great writing, this work leaves one stunned by its brilliance and its honesty.
What makes this book so amazing is Mr. Eire's use of the English language - both in his descriptions of his beloved country and his use of various writing styles. In one particular chapter, the writing style speaks louder about the emotion of an event than the words themselves. It is brilliant. Mr. Eire uses childhood events to describe emotion in a way not seen often in today's writing. How he can use a boy's tyrannical (and deadly) pranks with lizards to describe the gut-wrenching anger over losing his parents and his whole world is beyond me - but it works magnificently! This is a beautiful portrait of a boy's life disrupted and the courage of a man that pieces it back together again. Out of that pain comes an intimate portrait of a man's attempt to make sense of it all. Read it - then pass it on or buy the book for everyone you know!
Eire knows children well, so well that at times his writing is so convincingly that of a wide-eyed child that the reader needs to back up a few pages to realize this is a memoir and not a novel. In the end he has more thoroughly than any other writer given us an insider's view of Cuba in the 50's and 60's that it is possible for us to understand the mountainous changes that Fidel Castro effected on this lovely island. To say more would be to spoil an E-ride in Disneyland. Read this book for the joy of a child's perception, the insight of an expatriate's knowledge, and the philosophy of a man of heart and hope. A fine Debut Novel.
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| 5. Running with Scissors: A Memoir by Augusten Burroughs | |
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Burrough's mother was a struggling poet who wanted to be like Anne Sexton, and, lacking any talent, she instead suffered Sexton's psychotic episodes. The father, unable to deal with his wife's instability, drank himself out of the relationship. Eventually, Burroughs is abandoned by his family and adopted by his mother's psychiatrist, a certifiable lunatic who dispenses drugs and sex far more diligently than sound advice and who believes discipline is an evil to be avoided at all costs. To complicate an already disastrous situation, other members of this adopted family include several deeply disturbed individuals, including a pedophile who finds a ready victim in the 14-year-old Burroughs. I read this book two months ago, and, while I found it simultaneously appalling and enjoyable, I didn't know what to make of it. Since then, I've read several press reports that address some of the rumors generated by this book's publication. No, none of the people described in this book have sued (or threatened to sue) the author for libel. True, no child with the name "Augusten Burroughs" ever lived anywhere near Northampton--because Burroughs legally changed his name when he was 18. In sum, I've read nothing to indicate that Burroughs is making it all up. Yet there are two criticisms of the book I don't understand. Unfortunately for Burroughs, the back cover includes a single blurb comparing him to David Sedaris, and many readers, unable to think for themselves, contrast the two authors and find Burroughs lacking. Other than being gay and funny (and it's insulting that that is all it takes for people to link the two authors), Burroughs and Sedaris have nothing in common--each has his own writing style and a unique sense of humor. It would be just as pertinent to compare him to Ru Paul. The second criticism is that Burroughs reproduces conversations verbatim from thirty years ago. Putting aside the fact that he was able to consult diaries to refresh his memory, this technique is not uncommon. J. R. Ackerley, Annie Dillard, and Philip Roth--to name just three I've read recently--all use the same conceit in their classic memoirs. Burroughs is not as good as these three writers--his prose is a bit austere, and the book teeters on the edge of John Waters-inspired camp. Nevertheless, criticism of "recreated" dialogue seems gratuitous: any detail in any autobiography can be censured on the same grounds. Burroughs quite successfully recreates for the reader certain episodes of his life--episodes no human being would have been able to forget--and the exact wording of recalled dialogue matters as much as the exact color of the polyester shirt he was wearing at the time. Regardless of its faults (both real and alleged), the book is vivid proof that Burroughs emerged from his past with a profound sense of dignity. In a recent interview, he said of the older man who sexually abused him: "Mostly I still feel an incredible rage that he would do that to a young person, but just as much as I feel that rage I feel sorry for him, because he was someone who was mentally ill and had the most atrocious therapist possible." This quote alone displays his uncanny ability to step back and reflect detachedly on his experiences and to be both empathetic and sympathetic even towards those who deserve his venom. Some readers will be disturbed by Burroughs's ability to laugh (and make us laugh) at what happened to him. Yet the book probably would have unbearable otherwise--and, if it weren't for his sense of humor, it's unlikely the author would be around to tell us his story at all.
Burroughs sometimes ends a paragraph with a tacked-on quip that you might hear on an average TV sitcom, but that's about the extent of the comedy. Actually, this book was more on the lines of a Jerry Springer episode. You may stop to watch while flipping the channels, interested in looking at the freak show, but the majority of the time you don't feel for any of the participants--and you don't laugh at them. You cringe. They are two-dimensional, cartoon-like characters who simply disgust--it's the same with the characters in "Running with Scissors." Which leads me to the second surprise: nothing in this book was anymore shocking than something you would see on an average daytime talk show. What disgusted me were Mr. Burroughs descriptions of the people in his life and his different environments. What stands out in my mind is crusty masturbated-on blankets, heads flaking with huge dandruff scales, greasy MacDonald's fingers leaving fingerprints on everything, flabby bodies stuffed into sweat stained polyester-uniforms, decaying poultry bones left all over the house, and constant chain smoking in filthy, roach infested rooms. When I closed the book, I felt like I wanted to bathe. There's not a single person in the book to like, to root for. And that, by the way, includes the narrator, who is not a particularly, intelligent, witty or a nice person--at least not during the time frame of this memoir. He starts off being a neat freak obsessed with pop culture celebrities, but turns into a pig almost overnight. For all I know, Mr. Burroughs may have grown up to be a very charming dinner companion. But by the end of this book, you just want the freak show to end so you can switch the channel.
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| 6. Persepolis: The Story of a Childhood by Marjane Satrapi | |
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list price: $13.95 -- our price: $10.07 (price subject to change: see help) Isbn: 037571457X Publisher: Pantheon Sales Rank: 3327 Average Customer Review: US | Canada | United Kingdom | Germany | France | Japan |
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But PERSEPOLIS is also the story or a whole generation of young Iranians, who left their land in the quest of better conditions during the post-revolutionary era. I belong to this generation myself and I totally identified with the experiences Ms SATRAPI went through- her childhood in post revolutionary Iran, her description of Iranian society at the time, her exile in Austria- also in the volumes 2 & 3 (which already appeared in French). Though conceived as a comic book, the book has messages which are not childish in nature: the child, through the naiveness of her views, points out to many of the contradictions of Iranian society that adults are unwilling to face. It is also one of the rare unbiased personal accounts of what happened in Iran at the time of ther evolution and as such, is an interesting document on this period of Iranian history. Some readers (including reviews posted here) criticize this book for not being a realistic description of Iran. Though I totally disagree with this criticism, the main point is that PERSEPOLIS is NOT a history book nor a sociological study. It is a story, the story of a childhood and the author has never claimed it to be otherwise. I definitely recommend this book, first to all Iranians who live abroad, especially those who did not grow up in Iran and did not
I cannot wait until the sequel is translated into English.
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| 7. The Farmer's Wife Sampler Quilt: Letters from 1920s Farm Wives and the 111 Blocks They Inspired by Laurie Aaron Hird | |
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list price: $27.99 -- our price: $17.91 (price subject to change: see help) Isbn: 0896898288 Publisher: Krause Publications Sales Rank: 5384 Average Customer Review: US | Canada | United Kingdom | Germany | France | Japan |
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Editorial Review In 1922, The Farmer's Wife magazine posed this question to their readers: "If you had a daughter of marriageable age, would you, in light of your own experience, have her marry a farmer?" The magazine at that time had 750,000 subscribers, and received over 7,000 letters. The best answers to this question are included in this book, along with the traditional quilt blocks they inspired. Laurie Aaron Hird provides everything you need to be inspired and create your own sampler quilt: Reviews
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| 8. Little Heathens: Hard Times and High Spirits on an Iowa Farm During the Great Depression by Mildred Armstrong Kalish | |
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| 9. Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight: An African Childhood by Alexandra Fuller | |
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Her style is a little disconcerting at first (simply because she is speaking in her own voice and the language and slang she grew up with), and it takes a while to fall into the flow of her jumping around in her life in the early chapters, but I almost immediately was drawn into her world. I really enjoy writers who have a style all their own and Fuller definitely has her own unique voice. Her language is sometimes choppy, but it stills conveys meaning and understanding. What I partuclarly liked was the subtle way she conveyed the changing of the guard in Africa, as black rule began to become the rule, rather than the exception. Without directly commenting on the changes either positively or negatively, she conveys the confusion that the change brought about and suggests that whether blacks or whites are in control, the common people of most African nations remain oppressed by their leaders.I think Ms. Fuller makes it clear that regardless of their race, whites and blacks are Africans and that something must eventually be done about the oppresive political environment present in so many African nations. This book is particulary relevant given the recent turmoil over the apparent re-election of Robert Mugabe. I was fascinated by her mother, but wished she had provided more information about her sister. At one point she hints that her sister may have been molested by a neighbor and that a neighbor may have attempted to do the same to her, but she is vague on details, perhaps deliberately so. I also was a little disappointed that there was not more detail on her and her sister's lives in their late teens and early adulthood, but she still manages to convey a tremendous amount of information about their lives as young adults in a relatively short span. Overall this is a fascinating look at a way of life that is rapidly dying out and I would be curious to see if her parents are eventually forced to leave Africa. I guess its a mark of a good author that when they finish their tale, you're asking for more.
In addition to being smart, funny, entertainnig, and well-written, Fuller's memoir provides invaluable insight into the end of white rule in southern Africa. The Fullers are hardly members of a wealthly, landed, colonial ruling class. They are poor, rootless, prone to drinking and fighting. Where is the privilege, however minimal, for which they and other white Rhodesians fought? Why on earth would they stay on in places like Zambia and Malawi after the end of white rule? Fuller offers no definite answers to these questions -- though possible answers lurk in the loving and intricate passages in which Fuller describes the sights, sounds, and smells of southern African life. As the story of ordinary white Africans living through a defining moment in southern African history, this book works particularly well. Those who enjoy Fuller's book might also want to read "Mukiwa," Peter Godwin's equally excellent memoir of growing up in white Rhodesia. Godwin (who, like Fuller, spent much of his youth in the eastern part of Rhodesia, near the border with Mozambique) is about ten years older than Fuller. As such, he offers more about the origins of the war. Godwin also fought with the Rhodesian Army in the 1970s (these experiences make up a large portion of his narrative) and returned to his homeland as a journalist in the 1980s, to cover prime minister Robert Mugabe's reign of terror against his opposition. This more political and historical approach provides a nice companion to Fuller's work.
Her opening: With these few lines, Fuller captures her tone - fluctuations of fear, bewilderment and humor. Her story is told primarily in present tense from her childhood point of view, though she skips around in chronology in order to follow theme threads: school, war, poverty, her mother's alcoholism and unpredictability. Her mother, Nicola, is ferocious, larger than life; a woman who can drag her daughter off without breakfast to spend the day on horseback rounding up wild cows or laze away a rainy day sprawled with both daughters on her bed reading. A woman whose manic-depressive tendencies were exacerbated by the heartbreaking deaths of three of her five children and exaggerated by alcohol. She's brave, unpredictable, loving and scary. Racism in Fuller's world is a given, unquestioned by the child who sasses her nanny by threatening to fire her. Her parents are so poor they sell Nicola's rings each planting season and redeem them at harvest. Yet they have a houseful of servants and field hands. One day, her mother out, Fuller is bitten by something on her "downthere." Despite her terrified wailing, her black nanny refuses to aid her. When Nicola finally arrives, she drags the child inside, exasperated, and warns her, " 'Never, ever pull down your shorts in front of an African again." Fuller concludes the incident: "That's how I remember Karoi. And the dust-stinging wind blowing through the mealies on a hot, dry September night....And the beginning of the army guys: men in camouflage, breaking like a ribbon out of the back of an army lorry and uncurling onto the road, heads shaved, faces fresh and blank. Men cradling guns. And the beginning of men not in camouflage anymore, looking blank-faced, limbs lost." There's a dark, manic hilarity to much of the book - the teenage Fuller crossing the border on her way to boarding school, her mother comatose from an all-night drunk. "Dad nods, smokes. I crush out my cigarette. We're both hoping Mum doesn't say anything to get us shot." There are also gut-wrenching tragedies and moments of abject terror. The death of a sibling, her parents' grief-addled drunken driving, war. And there is Africa, a place of extremes, a place full of noises, smells and weather to make the rest of the world tame and drab in comparison, a place Fuller captures lovingly in her vivid, muscular, poetic prose.
Ms. Fuller's world was full of hot sweaty days, hard work, mosquitoes and ticks and snakes. There's only occasional electricity, drinking water is foul, and any kind of plumbing is a luxury. But there's always beer and alcohol, and lots of cigarettes, all of which is taken for granted as a way of life by her and her sister, the two surviving siblings out of five. I couldn't help thinking about my own children and their easy life here in New York, as I looked at the photographs throughout the book as the two young girls grew up and the parents grew wrinkled and gray. I love the writer's descriptions and the way she uses words. The children sing songs about fighting through "thickandthin" and the family camps with other "expats-like-us". Young Alexandra, nicknamed "Bobo" learns to clean, load and shoot a gun. Her father chain smokes cigarettes as he drives their Land Rover over inhospitable roads. Her mother loves animals and keeps packs of dogs around in a losing battle to control their fleas. The children attend boarding schools that change in racial composition as the politics change. And yet there's never a single word of self pity in spite of failing crops and ramshackle living conditions. I loved this book and read it fast, enjoying Ms. Fuller's voice. The Africa she describes became real to me as I let myself plunge into her world for a little while. There was an excellent map which helped me locate the places she describes as well as the family snapshots. Most of all though, there was a sense throughout of what it really felt like to be that little girl who grew up to share her memories with her readers. I thank her for doing that and give this book one of my highest recommendations. Read it. It's a real treat!
This is hardly an objective review, as I like Ms. Fuller grew up in the white farming community of Rhodesia/Zimbabwe and I'm also a survivor of the pink prison (Arundel School) and now reside in the US. But unlike Bobo, I grew up a wealthy farm with relatively normal parents in a very abnormal world of the white colonialist in black Africa. I resonate strongly with her images which are dead on. I still wake each morning listening to hear the "work harder" doves and the "go away" birds. Thanks Bobo for giving me a couple hours to relapse into a world that no longer exists but was home for some of us. Looks like those "Use of English" classes taught by Mrs. Twiss at Arundel paid off....
As a memoir, Fuller writes of a childhood that was passionate, troubled, wonderful, oppressive, chaotic, and beautiful. Her complicated mother, Nicola, gave birth to five children; only two survived. Fuller describes her mother as intelligent, but a racist, glamorous, but a hard drinker, and just as capable of discussing Shakespeare as killing a spitting cobra with a gun. She describes her father, Tim, as a heavy-drinking racist, yet taciturn and capable, and as a man who loved Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. Fuller's beautiful sister, Vanessa, is best described as the very cool, older sibling we all wish we had to accompany us through childhood. As for her three siblings that didn't survive, well Fuller is quick to note that it doesn't take an African to explain why you don't leave a child in an unmarked grave. "The child will come back to haunt you and wrap itself around you until your own breathing stops under the damp weight of its tiny, ghostly persistence" (p. 211). Hers was no ordinary childhood. And Africa was no ordinary playground. Fuller writes as if she has African dust in her blood. Her memoir follows her family's moves from Rhodesia to Zambia to Malawi and back to Zambia. Despite the country's hostile, desolate environment, Fuller's love for Africa is always evident, from its snakes, scorpions, biting ticks and leopards, to its "hot, sweet, smoky, salty" smells--"It is like black tea, cut tobacco, fresh fire, old sweat, young grass," she writes (p. 130)--to its sounds--"The grasshoppers and crickets sing and whine. Drying grass crackles. Dogs pant" (p. 131). A friend encouraged me to read this book, but it was really the book's quirky title and cover photo that nudged me into traveling with Fuller back to the Africa she discovered as a child. What I experienced on that journey was unforgettable. I highly recommend this book. G. Merritt
Believe every good review about this book and treat yourself to a wonderful experience by reading it today.
Having spent many an hour, like Bobo Fuller, poking grass into ant-lion holes in the hot dusty veld, this moving story captivated me and painted a moving portrait of people fighting the cruelty of the African landscape. Myth and reality are intertwined in a witty and beautiful story. Everyone should read this book! ... Read more | |
| 10. Too Close to the Falls by Catherine Gildiner | |
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list price: $15.00 -- our price: $10.20 (price subject to change: see help) Isbn: 014200040X Publisher: Penguin (Non-Classics) Sales Rank: 21056 Average Customer Review: US | Canada | United Kingdom | Germany | France | Japan |
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From the intelligently quirky mother to Warty, the self-appointed caretaker of the city dump, all of the characters ring true. And after just a few sentences Gildiner has you feeling like you really know them. And then there's the main character, the author as a child, who basically grew up in her father's drug store. It's a miracle she lived long enough, given her adventures and attitude, to write the book. Lucky for us she did. Each chapter is a short-story unto itself, a la Jean Shepherd. And there just aren't enough of them. After 350 pages you're left feeling cheated because there aren't 350 more. Read this book.
The author does an excellent job of painting portraits of the people that influenced her life. These include her mother, a very atypical 50s housewife who never cooked or kept house, her hard working civic-minded father, and Roy, the black pharmacy deliveryman who took Cathy on his rounds. Through her prescription deliveries, Cathy met Warty, a disfigured outcast who worked at the garbage dump, Mad Bear, the chief of the Tuscarora Indian tribe, and Marie, a retired prostitute/abortionist. Cathy bumped heads with an assortment of classmates, nuns, and priests at school and church. This is a wonderful coming of age story that is poignant and thought-provoking. There were many humorous touches as Cathy described the world through an innocent child's eyes. There was also a dark side to this memoir as she puzzled over the disturbing and often contradictory elements of society that were often kept under wraps during that era. Having grown up in western New York in the 50s, I recognized many of the details of Cathy's childhood, such as beef on weck, early TV programming with its frequent test patterns, the use of fluoroscopes in shoe stores, and the severe lake effect snow storms in the area. This book makes an excellent selection for a discussion group, and the paperback edition includes a reader's guide for that very purpose. Eileen Rieback
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| 11. Uncle Tungsten: Memories of a Chemical Boyhood by Oliver Sacks | |
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These words had a powerful resonance for Oliver Sacks. When the gifted neurologist wrote his autobiography, he also wrote a history of chemistry as recapitulated through his own childhood experiences. He grew up in a very scientific family--his mother and father were physicians, and his uncle Dave (the 'Uncle Tungsten' of the title) was both a chemist and a business entrepreneur, who "would spend hundreds of hours watching all the processes in his factories: the sintering and drawing of the tungsten, the making of the coiled coils and molybdenum supports for the filaments, the filling of the bulbs with argon..." Uncle Tungsten allowed his nephew to perform chemical experiments in his laboratory, which contained samples of almost every element. Oliver's "physics uncle," Uncle Abe had a small telescopic observatory on top of his house, where he demonstrated the wonders of spectroscopy to his nephew: "The whole visible universe--planets, stars, distant galaxies--presented itself for spectroscopic analysis, and I got a vertiginous, almost ecstatic satisfaction from seeing familiar terrestrial elements out in space, seeing what I had known only intellectually before, that the elements were not just terrestrial but cosmic, were indeed the building blocks of the universe." No wonder young Oliver grew up with a love for the elements and their chemistry! Rarely do I read an autobiography and envy the author his childhood--most recent examples of this genre, e.g. "A Child Called 'It'" are grim, wailing texts--and that's not to say that Oliver didn't have his bad moments, too. He endured two horrible years at a Dickensian boarding school while London was being bombed by the Germans. For the most part though, his formative years were spent in a fantastic 'castle of the elements' where his "many uncles and aunts and cousins served as a sort of archive or reference library" to his enquiring mind. In "Uncle Tungsten," Dr. Sacks shares his learning experiences with us and in the process, writes a far more lucid history of chemistry and physics than any I've ever found in a textbook. He also takes his readers on a mesmerizing, personalized tour of the elements. If you enjoyed P.W. Atkin's quirky "The Periodic Kingdom" or Primo Levi's wonderful memoir "The Periodic Table," I can almost guarantee you'll fall in love with "Uncle Tungsten."
Sacks was fortunate to be born into a family heavily composed of scientists: physicians, chemists, physicists, and metallurgists, like his "Uncle Tungsten." Both of his parents were physicians and indulged his curiousities by allowing him to set up his own lab in their house, where he familiarized himself with the history of chemistry by recreating many famous experiments and also trying many more of his own devising. Descriptions of his family life and his exploration into science are filled with wonder and with love for the world we live in. Uncle Tungsten is a book to relish--written in everyday language, not in stuffy scientific terms--a book filled with the joy of youth, the fascination of discovery, and the wonderment of life. I would recommend it to anyone interested in science and nature, to anyone trying to understand those around them who love science so much, and to anyone in junior high or high school who wonders why they have to study chemistry!
Born in l933, well before television cartoons and video games, Sacks was left to his own devices. His broad intelligence led him down many roads, and his tolerant parents indulged his love for explorations in chemistry. During WW II, when he was six years old, he was evacuated from London home to a country boarding school, where the headmaster inflicted physical and emotional abuse upon his young charges. The trauma Sack underwent there, in addition to the horrors visited upon England by the war, caused him to lose faith in the omnipotent God of his Jewish tradition. His new faith became science, and he brought to it all the passion and dedication of his orthodox forebears. In adolescence, sadly, he lost this flaming enthusiam, much as many teenagers "lose their faith"; and he turned to the conventional medical career his parents envisioned for him. Now, in late mid-life, his spiritual journey has brought him full circle to his early love again. His joy in scientific enquiry will ignite a similar joy in the reader.
Sacks is a truly gifted writer. Some of his pieces in the past have stunned me with their beauty. That said, he has never created a fuller, more compelling portrait than the depiction he gives of his mother here. What a special woman she must have been. He clearly loves her still. This book is as much of a love story as it is a history. Sack's recollections are laced through with his early encounters with science in its many forms. He speaks lovingly of his interactions with Chemistry. The education his mother provided him in anatomy also looms large in the images of his early years. While I have always been a fan of Sacks because of his insights into the human condition, I can see the special appeal this book would have to those who have a love for science (my wife loves biology). Sacks writes of it with passion and awe. It was interesting for me, and I've never been much of a fan of science. I recommend this book.
Dr. Sacks carefully weaves the history of his family and his own experiences growing up after World War II, with his fascination with the world around him and the history of chemistry. The product is one of the best science histories I have yet to read. I wrestled with chemistry in high school. I finally gave up. If I had Dr. Sack's book, the outcome would have been different.
Into this mix, Dr. Sacks seamlessly weaves stories of his own childhood. To me, these stories were the highlights of the book. Especially riveting are the stories of his "exile" to boarding school, sent away from London for his own safety at the height of WWII and, even better, his stories about his boyhood obsession with chemistry. As a child, he created everything from flaming compounds to noxious clouds which sent him fleeing outside and which filled his parents' home with toxic gases. Then, there's the highly entertaining exploding cuttlefish incident which rendered a friend's home uninhabitable for months. And I never grew tired of reading about his parents. Both renowned physicians, they were amazingly tolerant of their son's explosions and "stinkogens," but could be surprisingly obtuse when it came to his emotions. One such incident which totally took me aback was his mother's arranging for him to perform an autopsy at age 14 (to his great and understandable dismay). You'll meet more of this eclectic family -- uncles who were metals experts and pioneers in their fields, an aunt who -- appearing perfect to the outside world -- was wont to blow her nose on the tablecloth in the privacy of her home and many other memorable characters. Perhaps it's just my preference, but I would have preferred more of these stories and a bit less science, even though the pure science part was enlightening, if a bit dry at times. (If you like the human interest angle, as I do, Sacks includes many fascinating and well-written portraits of historic scientific personalities.) One question I always have is: to buy or to borrow. I borrowed this book from the library, but I wish I'd bought it. I ended up taking copious notes on the science parts, hoping to be able to refer back to this new education and also copying down many of the marvelous family stories so I could continue to enjoy Dr. Sacks' lively choice of words. One of the few times I regret the decision not to buy.
Sacks was born in 1933 in London. Both his parents were practicing physicians, and took him on house calls. There was an atmosphere that encouraged interest in books, theater, and music, but mostly in science. His Uncle Dave ran a company that made lightbulbs, and his admiration for and expertise in the tungsten which made the filaments made him known as Uncle Tungsten within the family. Many of us had chemistry sets when we were growing up (and one of his chapters is "Stinks and Bangs"), but Sacks seems to have grown up inside one. He was sent away from bomb-targeted London during the Blitz to a school in the midlands, a removal that scarred him in many ways. When he returned, he began to do his own experiments in his laboratory (formerly a laundry room). When the Science Museum opened again after the war, he had a religious vision when viewing its wall-sized periodic table; a two page reproduction of the table is within this book, an illustration of just how much chemistry, as well as memoir, that the book contains. It also has capsule biographies of the chemists through history of whom young Oliver became a fan (not for him movie stars or footballers). It is extremely strange that in a final chapter, "The End of the Affair," Sacks tells of Oliver's turn away from chemistry. To be sure, he had at an very young age mastered much of the field, but gradually at age 14 he began to turn away from it. The uncertainty and acausality of quantum mechanics played a role, for he realized he was not stirred by the new chemistry as he was the historic version he had pursued. His parents, loving and encouraging but not always understanding, started to show displeasure at his chemical expositions and influenced him more toward medicine. (A demonstration of misguided influence is that his mother brought him home malformed fetuses to dissect, a task which disgusted him: "She never perceived, I think, how distressed I became and probably imagined that I was as enthusiastic here as she was.") Beautifully written, _Uncle Tungsten_ gives us plenty of chemistry, but also a fascinating portrait of an unusual family. Sacks's loving understanding and sympathy for the young Oliver and his unusual upbringing has resulted in a yet another case study, just as humane as those of the other human specimens he has treated before, and deeply personal.
Sacks starts by describing his life as almost a nightmare of incompassion. Living in wartorn London during the Second World War, his school life was filled with horror and pain. But the young Sacks retreated mentally into a world of mathematics, chemistry and physics. From Fibonacci mathematical series to the history of the building of the periodic chart of the elements, Sacks describes not only the discoveries of chemists from Newton through Nils Bohr, but also his incredible empirical chemical experiments. He reveals some basic chemical facts, known truly only to real chemists, despite what basic chemistry one might have had in school, his revelations are truly breathtaking and amazing in some cases. And as he describes his experiences with life and chemistry, he also tells of the uncertainty that is generated by the search for certainty and stability. While never actually mentioning it by name, he does reference Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, which says that one can know either the velocity or the position of an electron orbiting a atomic nucleus, but one can never know both simultaneously. In many ways it was this uncertainty and Einstein's theory of relativity, that in effect says that everything is relative to your particular frame of reference, that made Sacks progress from his fascination with science and mathematics into a new real world of Biology and Medicine. But, although the discoveries of the great physicists of the 1920's introduced tremendous uncertainty, that is, matter is both a particle and a wave, electrons are never totally predictable and radioactive substances deteriorate at a precise rate, whose half life can be specifically determined, but that precision does nothing to predict exactly the fate of any specific atom. Each atom's existence is determined virtually by chance in a radioactive substance and each can last for a fraction of a second or for 100 million years, until the event that causes it to finally deteriorate actually occurs. Those selfsame discoveries do in fact, lend stability to life in their instability. Forever after, Sacks would be influenced in his life by those early experiments and discoveries, as well as what he learned by reading about the discoveries of others. And, even to this day, he still sees the world in terms of those early concepts of chemistry, which so infused his boyhood with meaning and substance. A tremendous work, recommended to anyone who has a curious mind and a yearning for finding the meaning of existence.
I would also highly recommend this book to youth who would like to learn a lot more about chemistry in a form rich in images and history and devoid of any formulas, equations, or end of chapter homework questions. Oliver Sacks provides a fascinating glimpse into a life and time far removed from our own "warning label" oriented society. While many have written about their war-time childhood in and around London, few can write with Sack's humor and grace. Fewer still can claim such a science/service oriented family. The title, "Uncle Tungsten" first jumped out at me because I named my own child after the elements: Molybdenum (Molly) and plan to name the one on the way Wolfram - also known as the element Tungsten. Together with my wife, they are the light of my life. However, Sacks offers the reader far more than a delightful set of his own characters. He provides a broad history of chemistry. This history picks up at the tail end of alchemy and advances in modest detail through to the beginnings of the nuclear and quantum age. As with Sack's prior non-fiction, one need not feel intimidated by the science. He focuses as much on biography as he does on his love for chemistry. With only a vague recollection of high school chemistry, I had no trouble following his threads. While generally mild mannered, Sacks does offer several surprises. Without spoiling his work, these include noting the availability of some rather extraordinarily toxic chemicals over the counter - sold even to children (should they care to ask), the tragic, traumatic, and gory death of a beloved aunt, as well as his introduction to dissection and human anatomy via the corpse of a fourteen year old girl, a girl his own age. It's a fun, touching, and interesting read. ... Read more | |
| 12. The Privilege of Youth: A Teenager's Story by Dave Pelzer | |
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Editorial Review From high school to a world beyond the four walls that were his prison for so many years, The Privilege of Youth bravely and compassionately charts this crucial turning point in Dave Pelzer’s life and will inspire a whole new generation of readers. Reviews
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| 13. A Girl Named Zippy: Growing Up Small in Mooreland, Indiana by Haven Kimmel | |
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Haven Kimmel, or Zippy as she's come to be known due to the fact she used to zip around the house as a toddler, has opened her life to us. The laughter begins on page 2 when Zippy's sister comments on the type of people who would be willing to read a book about life in teeny Mooreland, Indiana. Well, count me in! Reading this book was such pure, emphatic joy. Zippy reminds me a bit of a female Dennis the Menace -- little bit of a pest, but sweet, mostly innocent, and a lot curious. The stories inside are told with a poignant tone, a wistfullness for the days when life was simple, despite how big it all seemed when you were only 3-feet-tall. A happy childhood -- a breath of fresh air if you ask me. Stories like this make me grateful I grew up in a small town, and that if I thought hard enough I could come up with some stories of my own. A Girl Named Zippy has something for everybody, and a book that I will forever hold in high regard. Wonderful!
With no specific storyline, Kimmel uses pieces of her childhood from the 1960's and 70's to entertain her audience. She vividly describes what it is like to grow up living in the small Indiana town of Mooreland. Throughout the story, many of the townspeople are introduced. The humorous memories take you from Zippy's early childhood into her teenage years. The book reminds you what it is like to be a kid and the never-ending difficulties of growing up. Zippy is by far the most enjoyable book I have ever read. Kimmel's excerpts are laugh-out-loud funny. She does a great job of painting a picture to make you feel you like you are one of the crazy Mooreland people. Zippy is the perfect book to curl up to on a rainy day. This book is for people of all ages who don't mind a good laugh. I most definitely recommend this book to anyone, because I know they will enjoy it.
We'll never know if the "wicked" old neighbor lady really wanted to kill her; but, Zippy was convinced, and therefore terrorized by this woman. It was Zippy's reality. Who among us hasn't conjured up imaginary demons, scary neighbors and spooky houses when we were children? I have never before read a book that so accurately captured a child's imagination, emotions and reactions to the characters and situations that made her life uniquely hers. One reviewer commented that there was no way that the author could remember the events of her childhood with such clarity and detail. Well, let me assure this reviewer that my brother reminds me regularly all of the horrible and just plain stupid things that I did when we were growing up. How much he actually remembers and how much he has invented is not for me to say. I do know that he seems to possess an amazing faculty for recalling the events of our childhood and beyond. Just because I can't, doesn't mean he's lying, does it? Maybe. But who cares? It is the essence of the experience that is being related. Having grown up in the 'very, very big' town of Muncie that was 'so very far away' I absolutely and positively could relate to every event in this book. By the way, in the name of truth, Muncie is a 30 to 40 minute drive from Mooreland (depending upon whom you are following), which to a young child IS a long, long way. Muncie is a small town by most standards, but NOT if you are from Mooreland. I was so taken by this book that I drove to Mooreland one day to see Zippy's house, the church, and so on. Kimmel's description of Mooreland is dead-on, even more than 30 years later. I loved the story of how Zippy's father handled the threat from the neighbors to poison the family dogs. Anyone who grew up around here can see that happening, believe me. Hoosiers have a very bizarre sense of humor, love to make a point and don't take kindly to being threatened. This book captures those attitudes like no book I've ever read. Another golden moment in the book is when the older sister tells Zippy that she is adopted. The way the kooky parents handle this is absolutely hysterical. Zippy's reaction is unexpected and priceless. Zippy's struggles with religious issues are beautifully conveyed. This sensitive subject is handled with just the right balance of reverence and independent thinking to make anyone appreciate how Zippy relates to the conflicts and contrasts within her home and her community regarding spiritual issues. Kimmel puts a child's spin on an issue many adults are still debating, and she does it beautifully. I recently bought several copies of this book to give as gifts to people whom I know can relate and will appreciate this story. One copy, I am sending to a new friend as a way of explaining the occasionally twisted, but decidedly Hoosier, way of seeing things. I just hope Haven will give us a sequel. Meanwhile, I'll have to read this book again and again. What a brilliant accomplishment by a new author. Bravo!
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| 14. A Child's Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas | |
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"There were church bells, too" Fortunately, the dreamlike imagery never weighs down the book. Instead, Thomas wishes only to convey the warmth, humor, and imagination of his childhood Christmases in Wales. Although this is great modernist literature, it is completely unpretentious and can be enjoyed by all ages. The book seems longer than it is, perhaps because Thomas' depictions linger warmly after one reads about the Christmas fire, the smoking Uncles and drinking aunts, the presents ("...and a celluloid duck that made, when you pressed it, a most unducklike sound, a mewing moo that an ambitious cat might make who wished to be a cow"), the dinner, the caroling at the large strange house where "the wind through the trees made noises as of old and unpleasant and maybe webfooted men in caves," the music, and the soft bedtime. These episodes are generally no longer than a page each, but they graft onto our own memories--or would-be memories--of what Christmas could or should be like. In sum, it's a pleasure for the both the intellect and the senses, an unsentimental yet warm treat for both young and older audiences. It's one of the truest--and therefore most satisfying--Christmas books you'll ever read.
Years and years ago, when I was a boy, when there were wolves in Wales, and birds the color of red-flannel petticoats whisked past the harp-shaped hills, when we sang and wallowed all night and day in caves that smelt like Sunday afternoons in damp front farmhouse parlors, and we chased, with the jawbones of deacons, the English and the bears, before the motor car, before the wheel, before the duchess-faced horse, when we rode the daft and happy hills bareback, it snowed and it snowed. But here a small boy says: "It snowed last year, too. I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea." "But that was not the same snow," I say. "Our snow was not only shaken from white wash buckets down the sky, it came shawling out of the ground and swam and drifted out of the arms and hands and bodies of the trees; snow grew overnight on the roofs of the houses like a pure and grandfather moss, minutely -ivied the walls and settled on the postman, opening the gate, like a dumb, numb thunder-storm of white, torn Christmas cards." And they are wonderfully evocative of his Welsh youth. But for me they also evoked another memory, of a trip that Bud Rouse and I made up to Saratoga. We visited friends of his who worked at the track and had a horse of their own (Double Russian was the name, if memory serves). We had fun at the races, hanging on the far side with all the Hispanic groomsmen and walkers and cussing out prima donna jockeys. And after dinner and a few frosties that night, our host took down a collection of Dylan Thomas poems and we took turns reading them aloud. It was precisely the kind of affected scene that you'd expect in a Manhattan novel or like something out of a gutter version of Jane Austen, but I'll be damned if we didn't have fun. The best, most treasured, books and writers of our lives become entwined in our existence in just such odd and unique ways. Then any time we encounter them again, they trigger a cascade of memories. For no reason that will ever matter to anyone else, Dylan Thomas is such a writer for me. But I think everyone will enjoy this short but terrific memoir. GRADE: A
I liked the story when Jim's aunt came down and asked the fire men if they would like something to read. by Morgan Pitt I liked part where the two boys were throwing snowballs at the house and when the boys said "there might be trolls in there" and they said he reads too much. by Cydney Smith I like the part when Mr. Prothero said "a wonderful Christmas" and he fanned his slippers and they called the firemen and they tried to call the police and then "Let's call Ernie Jenkins. He loves fires." I also like when the aunt said, "would you like anything to read?" to the firemen. by Jonathan Gilbreath My favorite part of the story is when the firemen put the fire out and then Miss Prothero says "Would you like anything to read?" I also like the part where he describes the "crackling and carol-singing sea." by Ashley Fox My favorite part was when Mr. Prothero was banging on the floor with his slipper and when they called the fire department and the firemen were just done putting out the fire and then the aunt came and said, "Would you like to read?" by Harper Ganick My favorite part was when the kid was on the street. What you do is you take a cigarette out of a little box and wait until an old lady scolds you for smoking and then you eat the candy cigarette. by Davis Gooch
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| 15. A Tale of Love and Darkness by Amos Oz | |
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| 16. Broken by Shy Keenan | |
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Editorial Review Shy Keenan was not meant to survive her childhood. Her mother beat her so severely that she was deaf and nearly blind by her first day in school. Her stepsister thought nothing of pouring boiling water over her, and virtually every day she was raped by her stepfather. At agre 10 she was sold to a gang of dockworkers, viciously attacked, and left for dead in a field with a fractured skull. Today, Shy is an internationally respected advocate in the fight for justice for victims of child sexual abuse. Six years ago, her testimony secured the imprisonment of her stepfather and his associates for a catalogue of crimes against children. This success was achieved only after a journey through extensive psychiatric care, prison, and near-suicide. Shy’s experiences expose the extreme wickedness of which some are capable, but also tell a story of hope, strength, and courage. Reviews
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| 17. Fargo Rock City : A Heavy Metal Odyssey in Rural North Dakota by Chuck Klosterman | |
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Editorial Review Empirically proving that -- no matter where you are -- kids wanna rock, this is Chuck Klosterman's hilrious memoir of growing up as a shameless metalhead in Wyndmere, North Dakotoa (population: 498). With a voice like Ace Frehley's guitar, Klosterman hacks his way through hair-band history, beginning with that fateful day in 1983 when his older brother brought home Mtley Cre's Shout at the Devil. The fifth-grade Chuck wasn't quite ready to rock -- his hair was too short and his farm was too quiet -- but he still found a way to bang his nappy little head. Before the journey was over, he would slow-dance to Poison, sleep innocently beneath satanic pentagrams, lust for Lita Ford, and get ridiculously intellectual about Guns N' Roses. C'mon and feel his noize. Reviews
I guess that FARGO ROCK CITY falls somewhere between Dave Eggers and Chuck Eddy, but it's really too sui generis to be so glibly catagorized. This book is for the "Rocker within us all"! Check it out....
Seriously, go read this book. You'll laugh about things you forgot about. But most importantlu, you'll remember how great heavy Metal was/is and how at times it was laughable.
I'd recommend this highly.
Today, I have a "normal" job as a Financial Professional for a midwestern insurance company. And in my office, I have the following CDs that I play constantly: Motley Crue-Shout at the Devil, Faster Pussycat, LA Guns-Cocked & Loaded, Pretty Boy Floyd, Ratt-Out of the Cellar, etc. When I was listening to these as a teenager, I just "knew" I'd one day be a rock star, ya know?
After reading the book, however, my opinion is a little different. Chuck Klosterman and I may have listened to a lot of the same music. We may have spent a lot of time drinking. (Chuck, apparently, still does. I quit.) We both think that "Frehley's Comet" by Ace Frehley is a great album. However, his book was, I think, supposed to say that the hair metal and glam rock of the 80s means something more than those "in the know" would have you believe. What his book ends up saying, basically, is you had to grow up with this music to understand its relevance. That's a real eye-opener, no? I could have told you that. Still, if you liked (or still like) 80s metal, then the book is worth a read. It was interesting reading about things I haven't thought about since the late 80s. (What's the difference between "heavy metal" and "hard rock?" Klosterman goes into extreme detail about this topic and, if you weren't around in the 80s, it may seem like overkill, but it was an incredibly important determination when describing a band. Are they "hard rock" or "heavy metal"? It was vital to know and understand that stuff.) I don't know how interesting the book would be to someone who wasn't born between 1965 and 1973 though.
Too bad. I wanted to like this book, and I read it cover-to-cover, but there's something about a dork who feels the need to spout metal trivia interjected with disingenuous self-effacement that reminds why I always changed the station when Ratt came on. ... Read more | |
| 18. All Souls: A Family Story from Southie by Michael Patrick MacDonald | |
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I strongly recommend this book to anyone and everyone in our American society. The story had to be told: it's poverty and class, folks, not race! Whites, blacks, Hispanics, Asians, etc., whatever ethnic or racial group there is, those at the poor end of the specrum will suffer until society changes."All Souls" teaches us that. Hopefully we'll learn from this marvelous work, and things will improve. Like Michael, I'm someone born and brought up in a Southie housing project(The Old Harbor Village), albeit some 25 years earlier. I was luckier than Michael and his siblings because I had two parents, and drugs and guns were virtually nonexistent in Southie's projects in the 40's, 50's, and early 60's when I was there. However, I can identify with and testify to the existence of "Southie Pride", and the insular nature of "The Town", that "us versus the rest of the world" mentality. Combine that with the forced busing saga produced by a self-serving state legislature which passed laws to insure their lily-white towns wouldn't be affected by busing, and a judge from Wellesley who didn't have a clue, along with extreme poverty, organized crime controlling Southie ,an incompetent and/or corrupt police force, a similarly corrupt local FBI contingent, guns, drugs, and booze pouring in uninhibited by law enforcement, and lo and behold, you have the perfect formula for the disaster that ensued, the anger, hate, despair, misery, grief, the premature deaths, suicides, murders, ODs' etc, the exacerbation of Southie's natural introversion! Thanks to this wonderful book, the story is out there,and the healing process has begun. I really hope all of America reads the book, especially those non-Southies who live in Boston and its environs. I guarantee you will all change your perspective of Southie afterwards. I would also recommend that "All Souls" be mandatory in the high school English courses of the Boston Public School system, as well as those across the country. There'a a major lesson to be learned here. Michael MacDonald..Thank you for your story, and I'll be waiting for to write more!
Readers learn that poverty and tragedy, caused by or atleast exacerbated by Southie's own destructive code of silence and theFBI's refusal to prosecute the 'hood's mafia chief/purveyor ofdrugs/booze/weapons, end up devastating Southie and the author'sfamily. He loses 4 siblings to crime or discrimination. This is NOTa depressing book. It is uplifting in the sense that Angela's Asheswas: the author writes most of the time from his childhood perspective-- one that doesn't know any other world but the one in which he isliving. The family went out of their way to NOT look poor, to thepoint where they would buy shop-lifted designer clothes from a Southie"fence" so that they could look as fashionable as everyoneelse, despite the fact that their mother was a "career"welfare mom. MacDonald has said in interviews that in large part hisbook is about the denial of their poverty and immersion in thedrug/weapon culture he wants readers to understand. There's much, muchmore. I am a Masters student in American & New England Studiesand had to read this book for a class called Ethnicity in America. Ifyou have one book to choose to give you a perspective on how the Irish"assimilated" to the Boston scene, choose this one. Youwon't be able to put it down.
This was a depressing read, one I can't seem to shake after nearly finishing it in one sitting. Like "Angela's Ashes", this family's destitution is almost to much to bear. MacDonald's reminiscenes brought me back to a place I don't neccessarily like to visit. However, all in all, I think this is an important book for anyone who grew up in Southie, Eastie, Dorchester etc (you know who you are), if for no other reason than to validate the insanity we lived with on a daily basis.
Having myself grown up in a housing project (not far from Mr. MacDonald's) I can appreciate and immediately understand the images he evokes and the lines he draws in his story. And, by virtue of my experience, I have a deeper sense of the shadows that he has left out that give his story its fascinating and tragic power. Housing projects are pretty much the bottom rung of the ladder of America's so called classless social order. They are the places where people of little or no means scramble for limited resources. Elderly people with little or no family gather to live out the remainder of their days under siege by the local youth that seem to thrive on terrorizing the helpless. Young unwed mothers (many children themselves) gather to eke a life in the face of overwhelming deprivation. The density and preponderance of people afflicted with alcoholism, drug addiction, and mental illness add to an already palpable sense of entropy. The culture of violence, the disdain of the working class, the manipulations of politicians and gangsters, the inaccessible excess of a bustling and encroaching Downtown Boston all contribute to a volatile melting pot that marks its denizens in unpredictable ways. I do not know Mr. MacDonald personally, but after having read this book I can safely say that I know an essential part of him. I can almost envision his memories of family life in Old Colony. Of his siblings bustling in and out of the old heavy metal apartment door with its tiny peephole and massive brass lock, of its musical clanging of steam pipes and unregulated radiators oppressive heat. Of open windows letting in a comforting breeze and the accompanying sounds of barking dogs, breaking glass, screaming mothers and aggressive kids. I can see Michael sitting in his living room in the middle of this cacophony drinking it in to mask his feelings of affection, of love and terror of his helplessness as he watches his brothers being pulled by deeper currents than they know. In the end, All Souls is Michael's paean to his family. It is a singular act of love written with tender care with an effort to eschew the numbing sense of emotional distance (toughness) that we develop as a response to such an environment. It is a story about life and hope and meaning and the irrepressible urge of all of us to overcome the forces of destruction and chaos. Thanks for sharing, Michael. ... Read more | |
| 19. The Unwanted: A Memoir of Childhood by Kien Nguyen | |
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list price: $2.99 Asin: B001IZC3TC Publisher: Back Bay Books Sales Rank: 16004 Average Customer Review: US | Canada | United Kingdom | Germany | France | Japan |
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Editorial Review Reviews
I strongly recommend this book to everyone. To Kien, if you happen to read this review, I know I could speak for many other Vietnameses currently live in the states: thank you for writing this remarkable story of your life in VN!
I am finally thrilled to read a story such as this one. The struggle and journey to freedom for many Vietnamese refugees has not been documented enough. My family and I were fortunate to flee from Vietnam in 1975 during the fall of Saigon. My journey to freedom was less harrowing and uneventful than the author's. However, my other friends who fled the country during the second wave of the Vietnamese influx to the US in 1979 told me of bone-chilling tales of their trek to a far better life in the States. The tragedies and misfortunes of some refugees who flee Vietnam in boats include harsh weather, a lack of food and water which ultimately leads to starvation, boat engine failures that cripples some boats to drift aimlessly in the Pacific and finally sea pirates and bandits who board these vessels to steal peoples' only possessions while raping some of the women and children. Indeed, these stories are true and more or less remain undocumented to the general public. I am thrilled to know that stories like this one are now being told. ... Read more | |
| 20. First They Killed My Father: A Daughter of Cambodia Remembers (P.S.) by Loung Ung | |
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list price: $13.95 -- our price: $7.64 (price subject to change: see help) Asin: B0017ODVCW Publisher: Harper Perennial Sales Rank: 204801 Average Customer Review: US | Canada | United Kingdom | Germany | France | Japan |
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Editorial Review One of seven children of a high-ranking government official, Loung Ung lived a privileged life in the Cambodian capital of Phnom Penh until the age of five. Then, in April 1975, Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge army stormed into the city, forcing Ung's family to flee and, eventually, to disperse. Loung was trained as a child soldier in a work camp for orphans, her siblings were sent to labor camps, and those who survived the horrors would not be reunited until the Khmer Rouge was destroyed. Harrowing yet hopeful, Loung's powerful story is an unforgettable account of a family shaken and shattered, yet miraculously sustained by courage and love in the face of unspeakable brutality. Reviews
Anyone with respect for human dignity will surely be affected by this insider chonicle of the unspeakable atrocities committed against average, ordinary, and innocent Cambodian families and individuals. And yet, despite the enormity of the physical and psychological terrors, in the end, the triumph of a child and her siblings bravery, perseverance, and spirit leads to a story of ultimate survival and confirmation of light over darkness. This is an important book, not only in detailing the author's incredible individual ordeal, but also reminding us of the terrible consequences of a fanatical totalitarian fringe gaining power in any society. And finally this is a tough story, but also one to celebrate and learn from. It should be recommended reading in Universities around the world in the hope that the architects of tomorrow's societies be well aware of the dangers of fanatical extremism.
Ung's book provides a human framework for coming to terms with the madness of the Khmer Rouge. Instead of remaining decontextualized victims -- remarkable only for their suffering and identical to the victims of countless other tragedies -- Ung's family and the people she meets gain the dignity of personal qualities and individuality. Through the eyes of the child that she was at the time, Ung forces us to see her family and acquaintances not just as statistics or haunted faces glimpsed on television, but as people with lives that began before the tragic period of the book and that, at least in a few cases, continued after the events described in the book were over. FIRST THEY KILLED MY FATHER is part confession, part therapy and part urgent mission to share a story with the world. It is often painful to read but it is profoundly rewarding. Ung's story is heartbreaking but her own persistence, fortitude, and ultimate triumph inspire. Furthermore, in an age where tragedy and genocide have seemingly become commonplace, Ung's ability to heal after such a harrowing childhood is encouraging evidence that others, recovering from tragedies elsewhere, can do the same.
As somebody stated in an earlier review, I wondered (at first) how a 5 year old child could remember all of this. As I got further into the story, it occurred to me that no one could ever forget this sort of thing. In addition, Ung gives one of her older brothers credit for filling in some gaps. This book is VERY believable. Ung writes about horrific events in a matter-of-fact style. She occaisionaly changes the point of view of the narration, which can be a bit confusing. But, overall, it's easy to follow the story. It's even easier to become drawn in to the story. I put another book aside to read this. I'm glad I did.
I was particularly focused on certain points of her story: how wedges of class envy and racial differences were driven between people to help fuel the killing, how the children endured forced political indoctrination, the detailed, vivid description of starvation from a child's point of view, and the spirit to survive often being fueled by hate. Loung used her hate for Pol Pot and what had been done to her family as a source of strength to survive, but the hate she developed never extinguished her love for her family. As Americans, do we really think we are immune from having a killing field happen here in America? We need to read this story and learn from it. Human history is filled with holocausts and will continue to be filled with holocausts because that is as much part of human nature as it is human nature to forget the lessons offered to us by these survivors. Loung Ung presented the crucible of human frailties for us to examine and for her to find a way to heal herself of some of the pain of her losses. I am indebted to her for her courage and care to share this with me.
Loung endured and survived such a meltdown. She walks the reader through her voyage into and out of the abyss. I had no choice but to read the entire book in one night - it's that powerful. Both a human tragedy and a truimph of the spirit. I am grateful that Loung was strong enough to survive and tell her tale. I am better for it.
Loung Ung's book describes, through a personal account, an historical period in Cambodia that needs to be remembered and told. I would hope that, through reading of this book, our society would become more aware and compassionate towards others. Loung Ung's book is a must to be read by all.
I was unable to let go of the book once I started reading and lost sleep over a few days just thinking about and imagining what I had read. It brought back images to mind from the movie "The Killing Fields". I can understand the immense effort and courage it must have taken to recollect incidents from a time that probably still brings shivers to the author's mind.
As Loung Ung is exiled from her idyllic home, the reader is led down a terrifying path filled with betrayal, jealousy, and murder but also courage, heroism, and survival. Ung writes in a poignant yet succint style that shows how friends turned against one another in order to curry favor with the ruling regime. Families once on the margins of Cambodian society, both physically and economically, turned on their countrymen with a savage vengeance that defies a logical response. This led to unspeakable acts of violence by the ruling regime, either through starvation or slaughter, against countless people. Yet, amid this awful backdrop, Ung also introduces to the reader people who reclaim their humanity under oppression and, in this sense, redeems this sad story. Of the most memorable is the author's brother, who underwent severe beatings from the children of the camp leader in order to provide his family a handful of food to stave off hunger. Ultimately, this is a story of survival and how the personal saga of one person reveals the depths of the human psyche under such desparate conditions. It reminds this writer of Primo Levi's book, "Survival in Aschuwitz" and how one person's experience can represent the journey of 10,000 more. If there is one question that does arise from this book that was unanswered, it is this: given all that has happened to Cambodians in their civil war, how does the cycle of hatred and violence end and who is willing to make that change? ... Read more | |
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