In the Country We Love

In the Country We Love: My Family Divided by Diane Guerrero (2016)

You may know her as Maritza from Orange is the New Black or Lina from Jane the Virgin, but she was also the child of undocumented immigrants. When she was 14 years old, Guerrero came home from school one day to find that her parents had been taken. They were sent back to Colombia and Diane, who was born in the US and therefore a citizen, was left to fend for herself. She lived with her friends' families, struggled her way through school, and went through some very dark periods before finally following her calling as an actor.

Although I have watched several seasons of OINTB, what drew me to this book was the story about her family. As I've mentioned before, I'm on the Community Read committee at work and we've talked a bit about finding books about immigration. I think it's particularly important to talk about the kind of immigration that people like to call "illegal" because I don't think most people know what they're talking about when they use that phrase. I'd love to learn more about it myself. Guerrero's parents did what is common, which is to get a visa to come to the United States, and then overstay that visa. The process you must go through to try and become a citizen once you're here on a visa takes years, literally years, and I gather that's why people's visas tend to expire. Once that happens, trying to reopen your case can bring unwanted attention and sometimes, as in her family's case, result in deportation. I'm honestly a little bit fuzzy on the details of exactly what happened and what her family could have done differently - if anything - to prevent this from happening, but perhaps Guerrero doesn't know either. She was very young and it's a confusing system.

Her relationship with her parents suffered so much because of their separation. They talked on the phone, and she eventually went to Colombia to visit, but not having them involved in her daily life meant that she kind of slacked off about keeping in touch. She had a lot going on that she had to contend with. She grew up in Boston and got into Boston Arts Academy, a new performing arts public high school. Although she loved performing, she didn't think it was practical so instead of applying to a conservatory she went to Regis College, hoping that she'd eventually go into law. After a lot of academic and personal struggle she eventually admitted law wasn't going to do it for her, and that's when she finally started taking acting classes and found her true calling.

Written in a very casual style (with help from Michelle Burford) it's definitely not a literary masterpiece - there's lots of slang and hashtags and whatnot - but that's fine. It's it's a co-written celebrity memoir about someone who happens to have a pretty interesting background. Because of the sub-par writing and the fact that it doesn't go into immigration issues in a more general way I likely won't recommend it to the Community Reads committee. But I'm glad I picked it up - it was a fun and interesting story.

Throwback Thursday: She's Not There

In which I share vague recollections about books I read long ago that have stuck with me. 

I've mentioned Jennifer Finney Boylan's memoir before, on my list Memoirs I Didn't Hate and more recently on Ten Books That Celebrate Diversity. But given how frequently I recommend it, I thought that She's Not There finally deserves its own post.

James Boylan was a professor of English at my alma mater, Colby College (I never had a class with him as I, shockingly, was not an English major.) The memoir is about his gender transition and how it affected relationships with friends and family. Boylan is notably BFFs with author Richard Russo, which was an interesting part of the story, but it was her relationships with her wife and kids that were the most affected. Of course, none of it was easy, especially back before the media's transgender enlightenment. And in Maine.

I've always felt pretty lukewarm about memoirs. It seems like the people who write them either have a good story or writing talent, but not usually both. She's Not There is one of the first memoirs I read that had both.

Significantly, it was also the first thing I read that described the transgender experience in a way that made sense to me. I probably won't ever understand it completely, the same way I won't completely understand being black or disabled or a fundamentalist Christian. We simply can't always put ourselves in someone else's shoes. But before reading this I had frustrating questions because transgender people were always the ones who played with the wrong toys as a kid or wore the wrong clothes, and that's not what gender is. Those things are social constructs, and I couldn't understand why you'd change your body so you could wear a dress. Boylan described it more like body dysmorphia which made SO MUCH more sense to me. Honestly, it was kind of a relief to read this book.

Boylan has also more recently written a memoir called Stuck in the Middle With You: A Memoir of Parenting in Three Genders. It includes not only her own story, but interviews with many other people including Richard Russo, Augusten Burroughs, and Anna Quindlen and from what I hear is a pretty insightful examination about parenting and family. She also wrote a memoir called I'm Looking Through You, which is about growing up in a haunted house.

Have you read any of her books? What did you think?

Let's Pretend This Never Happened

Let's Pretend This Never Happened: A Mostly True Memoir by Jenny Lawson (2012), narrated by the author

I tried listening to this audiobook a couple of years ago and just couldn't get into it. I was rather put off by how she talked about her childhood like it was weirder than anyone else's, as though it was a competition and she was the clear winner. (You're not the only one who grew up rural and poor, Jenny Lawson, so you can't actually win this contest.) However, I've been reading her blog consistently and I really like it a lot. When her second book was about to come out I thought it was time to try her again, but I wanted to start at the beginning.

The childhood parts didn't bother me as much this time, and then the story moved forward to her marriage and daughter and various zany adventures. She shares her experiences working in human resources, where had to present a photo to a man at her company and ask "Is this your penis?" Many times. (Not the same man. Apparently using work email to send penis photos is an epidemic.) She also relates a story about attending a weekend trip with other female bloggers, where she claimed to be attacked during the night by a cougar which turned out to be just a feral cat (and surprisingly she is still friends with one of those bloggers.) Other stories center around topics such as taxidermy, stabbings, and that time she impregnated a cow with a turkey baster. A few are more serious than others, like when she recounts her miscarriages and the untimely death of her dog, Barnaby Jones Pickles, but even then she manages to insert some dark humor at some point.

My favorite parts are her conversations with her husband (this goes for her blog as well.) She and Victor seem very different: he's a rich Republican, and she's a poor Democrat; he's rational and sane, and she's hilarious and unhinged. I mean, I don't actually know what he's like and I'm very curious. In the book and on her blog he comes across as just the voice of reason (though she portrays him as the unreasonable opponent to her very twisted and hilarious logic.) A couple of chapters are devoted to their conversations, such as "A Series of Helpful Post-it Notes I Left Around the House for My Husband This Week," a one-sided conversation that began with her reminder not to leave wet towels on the floor and ended with her attempted escape from the house and their marriage until she was foiled by the dog peeing on her and her choice to drink all the booze instead of packing it. You'd have to read it to understand, much like the chapter "Phone Conversation I Had with My Husband After I Got Lost for the Eighty Thousandth Time." The re-listenability of this might rival Bridget Jones's Diary (which, come to think of it, I haven't listened to in a while.) So I'm glad I purchased it on Audible and can listen again.

She does a good job with the narration. Delivery is an important part of humor, and though I think she comes across quite well in her writing, there's nothing like actually hearing it the way it was intended. The audio version has a bonus chapter called "Balls" and then some extraneous ramblings of the "it smells like cat pee in here" and "this is why I say "vagina" instead of "vulva" variety. The book has a different bonus chapter (paperback only, apparently) called "There's a Serious Lack of Prostitutes on This Tour." So I recommend experiencing this book the way I did: listen to the audio, but have a print copy on hand so you can look at the accompanying photos and read the print bonus chapter. You'll really want both version to get the full experience.

Tibetan Peach Pie

Tibetan Peach Pie by Tom Robbins (2015)

When I was in my early- and mid-20s I read all of Tom Robbins's books. They were so unusual and I loved the quirky characters, snappy dialogue, and madcap adventures. Now Robbins has a nonfiction book about his own true-life adventures and my book group picked it to read this month.

Recounting his childhood, marriages, military service,  and his relationship with LSD (among other things) his voice was familiar and his stories came across as much like tall tales as his novels. It sort of felt like listening to an older relative tell stories about his life that were likely embellished to liven up a family gathering. Because it was a loose collection of stories rather than one continuous storyline, I found it a bit difficult to get into. At the same time, I read it while I was feeling generally distracted (while prepping for, and on, my trip to Russia) and that didn't help, but it was probably a good choice since I didn't need to follow any complicated story lines.

Overall, I found it entertaining and funny, but I don't have much to say about it. Although I didn't read it under the best of circumstances, I don't know if I would have loved it even under ideal reading conditions. As much as I loved Tom Robbins when I was in my 20s, I'm not just sure if he's my sort of thing these days. If you're a fan of Tom Robbins, you might appreciate it; if you haven't read Robbins before, I'd suggest that you try his novels first.

Orange is the New Black

Orange is the New Black by Piper Kerman (2010)

As I think we all know by now, the show Orange is the New Black is based on this memoir about an educated white woman engaged to a nice guy who suddenly has to go to prison for something she did many years ago when she was at a very different point in her life. Piper Kerman was convicted on drug charges and had to serve a year at a federal women's prison in Danbury, CT. She describes what it was like in prison, but also provides insight into the system and and the other women caught in it.

I had a tough time keeping track of all her fellow inmates and other characters. There were just so many of them! I also found the prison rules confusing - she did too, so maybe that was intentional - but I felt like many things could have been explained more. For instance, she mentions the complexity of balancing her visitor lists, but I don't know what the challenges were. I know she could only have a certain number of people on the list, but beyond that it was a mystery. How many people could visit in one day? Could several friends come at once? She also mentioned a lot of seemingly-innocuous things being contraband, but then says her friend Rosemarie subscribed to bridal magazines. You can have magazine subscriptions in prison? Perhaps I'm just overly curious about the prison system and how life works there, but I'm left with a lot of questions.

The writing, while not exactly bad, could have been better. For instance, when Piper got a job doing electrical work she explains what it was like being so new to it. Later, she offhandedly mentions that she was shocked once, but doesn't share the story about that, which I thought would have been interesting and worth including.

However, these minor flaws didn't take away from my enjoyment of the book. I was really touched by how these women took care of each other. When Piper first arrived and had no money for commissary, several women gave her toiletries and other necessities. Later, she did the same for newcomers. They had parties for each other, making elaborate culinary concoctions though they had very little to work with and it seemed like a huge pain in the ass. And they got each other through their prison time the by being good, supportive friends.

I watch the show, so of course I couldn't help but compare them. The book is pretty different, and honestly not as good as the show, but there is still a lot that is the same. I couldn't help but look for familiar characters in the memoir, and many of the characters were clearly based on real people. Obviously lots of creative license was taken with the show to make it more dramatic, and there are a ton of story lines that aren't in the book. One part that did surprise me that wasn't part of the show was just how long Piper had to wait between the time she learned she'd be going to prison and when she actually began to serve her sentence. When someone related to her case was arrested on a warrant, her sentence was delayed while the US tried to extradite the guy because they wanted her to be able to testify before she began to serve. Consequently, she spent six years waiting for the situation to be resolved so she could go to prison and serve her time. Can you imagine knowing you're going to prison and not being able to just do it and get it over with, but having to just wait while it's looming over you? If that's not cruel and unusual punishment, I don't know what is.

Well, actually, a few other things in the book also fell into that category. I'm sure many people in prison must have mental health issues, but the 1400 women at Danbury had to share one psychiatrist and even he was only there for part of one day each week. They were also told that the only health issues that would be addressed were those that were life-threatening. Their food was frequently moldy and one of their bathrooms, nicknamed the Hell-mouth, was regularly infested by maggots. This doesn't seem an environment in which it is easy to stay healthy. Not to mention the inappropriate behavior of some of the guards, who weren't above fondling the women they were supposed to be just frisking. One of the guards would also scream invectives over the loudspeakers all evening, at a loud volume. This all seemed unnecessarily cruel, as though completely losing their freedom wasn't enough of a punishment.

But I was happy to see that the prison staff weren't all as horrible as on the show. Piper's counselor was pretty sympathetic to her situation, once even saying, "You drug people shouldn't even be here." Which I - and many of the prisoners - agree with. Kerman includes some statistics in the text, like the fact that 1 out of every 100 Americans is in prison, which is higher than for any other nation in the world. She also points out that this wasn't always the case, certainly not before the War on Drugs and its mandatory minimum sentences for drug crimes. Helpfully, Kerman has included an appendix of resources on justice reform for those who are interested in learning more about prison issues.

There's obviously a lot to talk about here, and this would be a great book for discussion as there are just so many interesting things going on. Although it wasn't a prize-winning piece of literature, it was an enjoyable read that gave me a lot to think about.

The Burn Journals

The Burn Journals by Brent Runyon (2004)

When he was 14, Brent Runyon tried to commit suicide by setting himself on fire. Although he very quickly changed his mind, he was left with third degree burns over 85% of his body. In this memoir, he recounts the year that he spent recovering, from just before it happened until he went back to school.

Mostly it covers what was going on medically, what it was like to be in the hospital, his relationship with the nurses, and that sort of thing. He shares the details of burn care, a painful process that he remembers all too vividly, along with high points such as meeting Magic Johnson and Dennis Miller. Occasionally, Runyon wishes he could go back and make it not happen or he ruminates on whether or not he'll ever have sex, or if anyone will ever love him. But generally, it's not as introspective as if an adult had written it, and I think it is this focus on the more day-to-day aspects of his recovery that makes it so easy to read.

Runyon began writing about his experiences in his 20s, but the memoir is from the perspective of his 14-year-old self and I thought he did a great job of looking back and channeling that voice. He could be judgmental of other kids around him, especially when he was taking the short bus, and called them names just like a 14-year-old would. He could have changed these parts of the story but he didn't, and that helped retain the truth of the story and of who he was. The narrative voice is really what makes the book as good at it is. He sounds honest and real, and comes across as a decent person with a great sense of humor who is dealing with the horrible consequences of a bad mistake that will change his life forever.

Maybe he wasn't the most introspective kid - and who at 14 is? He was forced to see psychologists and hated most of them, and didn't want to talk about his suicide attempt. He says he didn't really understand why he did it and remained focused on getting better and going back to his regular life. The suicide attempt was presented as a poor decision that was an overreaction to things going on in his life rather than the beginning of a lifelong struggle, and I hope that's actually the case.

I visited Runyon's website, which includes a gallery of photos from before and after he set himself on fire, and I was sort of shocked at how young he looks in those hospital photos. His voice doesn't sound like a child, and I definitely remember feeling distinctly un-childlike at that age, but boy he sure looks like a child. I'm sure it's not easy to share so much of oneself with the world, but I really appreciated that I was able to see photos of events that I read about. They made the story all the more real.

I sped through this book in just over a day. I couldn't put it down. Not everything was resolved or tied up neatly (such as his distant relationship with his brother), but of course that's because it's real. I'd love a follow-up to this story because this is a person I would like to know better and, even more, I want to know that he's still doing ok.

Ten Thousand Joys & Ten Thousand Sorrows

Ten Thousand Joys & Ten Thousand Sorrows: A Couple's Journey Through Alzheimer's by Olivia Ames Hoblitzelle (2010)

In this memoir of one couple's experience with Alzheimer's, Olivia Hoblitzelle shares what it was like to care for her husband Hob as his disease progressed. The couple took strength and guidance from their lifelong spiritual beliefs, which greatly helped them embrace the changes in their lives and come to accept Hob's eventual death. Each chapter ends with a list of reflections and suggestions meant to help others going through similar challenges, and finally a mantra, which Hoblitzelle calls a "seed thought."

This was less a straight memoir than a meandering collection of spiritual reflections. It was sort of a Buddhist self-help guide for people dealing with Alzheimer's. Unfortunately, I am probably the least spiritual person on the planet and clearly not the audience for this book. In fact, if someone were to set out to write a book that I'd dislike intensely, this might be that book.

Before I go into the finer points of its merits and shortcomings, I feel I should explain that the only reason I even finished reading such a thing is that I'm on the selection committee for my library's community read, for which this book was nominated. I didn't think I'd love it because it was described as a memoir about Alzheimer's, but I remembered how pleasantly surprised I was when I read Still Alice by Lisa Genova, so I went into it with an open mind.

To give credit where it's due, Hoblitzelle is very insightful and her advice seems like it would be quite valuable to others in her situation. Many of the moments she describes were surprising and touching. For instance, in the early stages of the disease Hob is giving a talk that he has spent months preparing for out of fear that he will forget everything while he's talking. During the speech, he indeed loses his train of thought completely and his copious notes don't help. Rather than slinking away, awkward and embarrassed, he talked through what was happening, which many in the audience found impressive and inspiring. It was a great story.

But such anecdotes were few and far between. Most of the book was naval-gazing reflections only occasionally punctuated with recounting of events and I was left with a lot of questions. I wanted to know how their kids handled their father's decline, and how old were their kids anyhow? What was it like when he had to give up his work? How did Olivia schedule her days now that she had to oversee everything he did? How did their friends react to Hob's decline? So many details were left out.

In the 293 pages of this book (not counting the Appendices, which I skipped) she probably used the word "journey" at least 300 times. I'm a little irritated as the use of the word "journey" to describe life events anyhow, but the overuse was excruciating. Her pool of adjectives consisted primarily of "lively," "joyful," and "playful." My eyes became exhausted from all the rolling. Additionally, she would tell and not show. For instance, she once mentioned that their relationships with friends and family changed because of Hob's illness, but didn't give any examples to illustrate this.

It's obviously not the author's fault that this isn't my sort of book, and I was determined to finish it to give it a fair shake, but even objectively the writing was mediocre. Combined with the rather meandering style and focus on the internal rather than day-to-day experiences, I'm afraid this was rather a slog for me to get through. However, if you are close to someone with Alzheimer's and practice (or are open to) this particular sort of spirituality you may find it helpful and comforting.

Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking

Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking: a memoir of food and longing by Anya Von Bremzen (2013)

Born in the Soviet Union in 1963, Anya Von Bremzen formed the same kind of fond childhood food memories as we all do, but hers are tainted by the propaganda of communism. After emigrating to the US at the age of ten, she pursued a career in music before falling into food writing. Here she unpacks her food memories - her "poisoned madeleines" as she calls them - and uses them to tell the story of her childhood, her family, and life in the Soviet Union.

Based on the prologue, I thought each of the following chapters would be framed by a story in which Anya and her mother cooked a Soviet dish representative of that decade, but it wasn't so neat and tidy. For instance, the chapter on the 1930s mentions a get-together for 1930s food but it's only about a page and recounts their conversation, not the food. More room than I expected was devoted to the political and historical context. From Tsar Nicholas II to Vladimir Putin, the political climate was present in every chapter as the author traces the lives of her grandmother, her mother, and herself.

It was ambitious, and she pulled it off quite expertly. Not counting the recipes in the back, the entire book was about 300 pages and she managed to fit in a great deal of family history, what felt like the entire history of 20th century Russia, and still a lot of food talk. I'm not sure how it was all crammed in there, but it still managed to be pretty well put-together.  Reading it was a little tough in parts, since I tend to struggle with history, but she always pulled the story back to more familiar and easy-to-read ground.

I know the Soviet Union isn't the first place we think of when we think about cuisine, but I've always had a soft spot for Russia (and I do enjoy a good bowl of borscht). Something about the character of Soviet food really does seem perfect for such an eclectic mix of comedy, tragedy, and memory.

Wild

Wild: from lost to found on the Pacific Crest Trail by Cheryl Strayed (2012)

In her early 20s, Cheryl lost her mother to cancer. For several years afterward she was adrift, seemingly on a path of self-destruction. She had affairs, her marriage ended, she did some drugs. Finally, she decided that what she really needed was to hike the Pacific Crest Trail, alone. Slightly unprepared, she set out on an amazing and difficult journey and lived to tell us all about it.

Strayed had a very close relationship with her mother. They went to the same college together, and transferred to a different college together. Just before graduation when her mother was dying, it was Cheryl - and not her other children - who stayed by her bedside. After her mother's death, Cheryl was understandably lost.

As she began her downward spiral into meaningless sex and drugs, I began to wonder if this might be one of those
memoirs in which people brag about their poor choices. But it wasn't - every bit of it was relevant background upon which she reflects during the most important part of the book, her long and arduous hike.

Wearing hiking boots in the wrong size and carrying a hopelessly heavy backpack (nicknamed "Monster"), Cheryl got on the trail. Despite a few mistakes (like bringing the wrong kind of fuel for her stove) and a noticeable lack of training, she wasn't completely stupid. She had a good trail guide that she followed religiously and had packed what she needed (and then some), and carefully planned her route, mailing resupply packages to herself that she would pick up along the way. When things went wrong - like having to skip impassable parts of the trail - she didn't back down. She figured things out and moved on, sometimes with a little help from strangers or new friends she met along the trail.

When she thought she couldn't go on, she just pushed ahead anyhow. I mean, there's little choice when you're in the middle of the woods, but every time she went through a town was an opportunity to give up and she didn't. Even though she seemed perpetually starving and out of money, even though at one point she ended up lost and wearing booties made of duct tape, she didn't give up. If you have an experience like this at the age of 26, what in life could ever seem insurmountable again?

Throughout the book I was struck by the kindness of strangers, the camaraderie between hikers on the trail, and surreal moments of beauty, such as the night Cheryl awoke to find herself covered in tiny frogs. But most striking of all was her strength and tenacity, her sheer will to do this thing, to prove to herself that she was strong and that she could change her life for the better. Truly an inspiring memoir.

Golden Boy

Golden Boy: Memories of a Hong Kong Childhood by Martin Booth (2005)

In 1952, when Martin Booth was 7 years old, his family moved from Britain to Hong Kong where his father was to be posted for 3 years. Martin quickly took to Hong Kong and its people, learning basic Cantonese and eating whatever was offered to him, no matter how off-putting. His willingness to immerse himself in Chinese culture earned him favor with the locals and gained him entry to places like Kowloon Walled City, a potentially dangerous area not generally open to outsiders. Some of his more colorful experiences recounted include visiting opium dens, eating beetles and preserved eggs, and digging up the bones of a Japanese soldier. His home life was also far from boring, his angry, gin-swilling father accusing Martin of "going native" (apparently a bad thing), his mother fun and pleasant, and just as taken with local culture as Martin. 

Booth's descriptions of his experiences - the sights, smells, and tastes of Hong Kong - are the heart of his book. Anyone who enjoys books that provide a strong and detailed sense of place will appreciate Golden Boy. The other main appealing part of the book is Martin's relationship with his mother. She loved Hong Kong and, like Martin, didn't ever want to leave. She was always up for adventure and included Martin in as many of her activities as possible, and seemed to really enjoy hanging out with him. Her husband certainly didn't appreciate the local flavor, so Martin was always her companion of choice. I found their relationship very sweet. 

I'm trying to decide if I would have liked this book as much had I not recently traveled to Hong Kong myself. It's clear that Hong Kong was very different in the 50s than earlier this year when I visited, so though many of the place names were familiar, that is where a lot of the similarities ended. (Though some of the food from the book is recognizable, as is the practice of locals hanging their laundry outside their windows.) Less a story than a slice of life, I think there is a lot in Booth's book that would appeal to anyone interested in travel and other cultures. 

Martin Booth left Hong Kong with hopes to return, and his family did return later for several years but unfortunately we won't hear any more about it as he died shortly after finishing the manuscript for this memoir. 

Have you read any good books with detailed descriptions of living in a particular place? Leave your recommendations in the comments!

Another Bullshit Night in Suck City : a review

Another Bullshit Night in Suck City by Nick Flynn (2004)

Maybe the city sucks, but the memoir sure doesn’t. Nick Flynn has written an account of his time working at the Pine Street Inn, where he crosses paths with his absentee father. Both men have had pretty hard times and it seems as if Jonathan serves as a warning to his son. Nick writes about his addictions, his somewhat drifter lifestyle, brief involvement with drug smugglers, failed relationships, his mother’s suicide. Multiply his issues by 10 and you’ve got his father. Decades of alcoholism have ravaged Jonathan, and he seems to be sustained by his delusions of grandeur. He is convinced that he will be a Great Writer and that his book, once sold, will be a huge success, but as much as he talks about it Nick isn’t convinced the book even exists. Jonathan lives in hovels, or the shelter where Nick works, or sleeps on benches or in ATMs. Flynn expertly weaves their stories toghether, though their paths do not cross often or for long.

Flynn is very matter-of-fact about his life, which by any measure is pretty tough, but he does not try to evoke sympathy. I liked hearing about the day-to-day procedures at the shelter, about the men who are regulars there. He passes no judgment on the homeless or blame them for their situation. His descriptions of his father were similarly distant, but filled with the kinds of details that painted a lifelike portrait. He describes another side of Boston, one that I know is there but only catch glimpses of.

But the book isn’t just a chronological listing of facts. Flynn plays with narrative styles, including a short one-act play, a stream-of-conciousness chapter, and peppers the text with quotes from Shakespeare. Rather than desctracting from the topics at hand, these excursions seem appropriate to a memoir about two men prone to wandering and aimlessness. I’m happy that Nick Flynn has found the success he father always craved, and now that his memoir is soon to be made into a movie, it seems that continued success is assured. But don’t wait for the movie – read the book now!

Dreams From My Father : a review

Dreams From My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance by Barack Obama (audio, 2005)

Barack Obama’s books have been on my “to read” list for a while but I kept putting them off because of my oft-mentioned difficulties with reading non-fiction. I also have difficulty with audiobooks, so what possessed me to try Dreams From My Father on audio I will never know.

I suspect it’s an interesting book. In fact, I really enjoyed the parts I paid attention to, such as Obama’s childhood in Indonesia and Hawaii. I think my favorite part was when, as a schoolboy in Hawaii, he bragged about his Kenyan father, exaggerating his position, claiming that he was practically a chief of his tribe and that once his father was gone he, too, could be a chief. And that is practically like being a king! But maybe he would decline being chief. He hadn’t decided yet. Soon after making these claims, Obama learned that his father was coming to visit and would be coming to school to give a talk to his class! Yikes!

In another interesting passage, the young Obama picks up an issue of Life magazine and finds a picture of a black person who has undergone treatments to make himself appear white. The photo, and the idea of someone being so unhappy with their race, haunted Obama for years to come.

Obama also tells (and by the way, the audiobook is read by the author) about his years as a community organizer, and his trip to Kenya to visit his father’s family before he begins law school. This visit sounds enjoyable in some ways and disorienting in others, such as learning that nobody knows for sure who he is actually related to since Dr. Obama was known to have had affairs with married women and claim that various children were his when in fact they may not have been.

I know I missed a lot because of the audio format, and much to my chagrin I learned partway through that the recording I was listening to was abridged. Consequently, I don’t feel qualified to review it, but I have committed to posting about every book I read. Just take this all with a grain of salt.

Politics aside, if you are interested in memoirs of people from interesting backgrounds, including journeys to foreign countries and discussions about race and family, I would recommend this book. The writing is good, the author has an interesting story to tell and, hell, he’s the President. He is worth learning about just for that reason.