More Books

I've done some reading:  

 Early this morning, I finished the last few pages of Kaylie Jones memoir, Lies my Mother Never told Me  which left me stunned.   

 

In fact, it took me a little while to warm up to the book and at one point I was wondering why I was reading as the early sections seemed to be in danger of becoming just another example of a “child of celebrity” writing about the dark underbelly of life with famous drunks.  It was not that it was badly written; Jones’ direct style and sometimes shockingly spare prose serves the material well.  The book is often moving and is filled with moments of humor even in the midst of madness and despair. 

 

But as the author slowly began to find her own self, her own voice, her own place in the world I became more and more wrapped up in the book.  As Kaylie begins to learn and accept that she is first the child of an alcoholic, and as she moves from this discovery onto the discovery that she herself is an alcoholic, she also learns that so much of what she has always known in life is shaped by this terrible childhood, or even in some ways this lack of having a complete childhood.  Ms. Jones is very good and delving into this aspect of her own awakening, explaining it and conveying it with a very real sense.  Her relationship to her alcoholic mother may be textbook, but even textbook cases are painful and often not recognized by those who are living them.  Kaylie Jones brings great humanity to her journey.  The journey is brutal and the story seems to be told with unflinching honesty. 

 

I think that although there is much here for any one who has grown up with an alcoholic parent, whatever the situation, this well-written, compellingly honest memoir also has much to offer any reader who is interested in trying to understand the difficulties faced by children of alcoholics, or in fact anyone whose childhood had profound impact on their ability to become their own “selves” in adulthood. 

 Then later this evening, I read John Boyne's The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, which had been on and off my list for quite a while.  I actually have mixed feelings about this as a book for young readers as I tend to see this as an adult's book masquerading as a young-adult book.  This does not mean I think it is inappropriate, but I would think it would depend on the child and how it was presented, as well as how well it was supported. I certainly would have read it, and gotten a lot out of it, although also perhaps have found it quite upsetting.  (well that might apply now as well).  I definitely think this is a book for teens or adults, although I tend to think some adults would be put off my its apparent over-simplification of the characters and story, thereby missing an important point. 

The naivete of the protagonist, Bruno, does not bother me particularly, although I can see how some would find it off-putting, and I certainly cannot imagine such naivete in the nine-year-olds of my acquaintance.  And yet, I was far more naive at nine, than these children of today, and I do believe that is possible for priveleged and sheltered child of the time to be completely  unaware of the darker things happening in the world around him.  The extreme naivete of the protagonist is a very good tool here, silhouetting much in Bruno's life about which adults prefer to turn a blind eye.  

I can also understand how a child wold misunderstand and therefore mis-hear a word without understanding its background, coming up with "out-with" for Auschwitz.  Again I certainly remember words I mistook or misheard as a child, some of which I would be embarrassed to admit to now, no so much because I misheard, but because what I thought I did hear now seems stupid and naive to me.  

The author's use of the voice of an overly naive child to tell the story adds poignancy and by contrast adds a starkness to the setting of the camp and the prisoners. Episodes that are inexplicable to the narrator are all the more shocking  just because of this confusion and lack of understanding.  Without the extreme naivete of Bruno, and perhaps even of Schmuel, the friendship between the two boys could not have existed, and the tragedy of the ending would be far less profound.

For all that Bruno was incredibly naive, his story points to the much wider questions surrounding the Holocaust, and how millions of adults could, and still do, turn a blind eye to what is going on right next door.

Now perhaps I should move on to some reading in an entirely different vein, something less likely to keep me awake pondering the vicissitudes of human nature.

Comments

[materfamilias]

Yes, I'd say you've earned some time with lighter material indeed. These both sound like darker, albeit very worthwhile, choices.