The Glass Castle: Don't Throw Rocks. Or Anything. Actually, don't live there.

I tend to stay away from non-fiction. There is something about fiction (read: fantasy. All novels are someone's fantastical invention) that draws me in. Often with non-fiction I find my mind trying to puzzle out that people truly exist this way. However, I have recently read 3 or 4 non-fiction memoirs as they were given to me by someone who read it for a book club that I wish I could join. Mostly I want to prove I can join the book clubs by reading anything they throw at me. Hint. Cough.

The Glass Castle was one of those memoirs where I immediately question human nature versus nurture.The main factor that kept me turning pages was Jeannette Walls' terrific writing and un-self-concious view of her less than ideal childhood. Walls has the ability to write each word as though she had journaled them during the events. To read about falling out of a moving car and being left on the side of the road for an indeterminate amount of time as an adult is terrifying and anger-inducing. To read about it through the eyes of a toddler who knows something is not right but doesn't have the high sense of self-preservation of the adult viewing the event with horror is eye-opening. A child only sees things as they occur and reacts authentically. When my nephew was younger, and now with the children of my friends, I learned not to overreact when they go through bumps, falls, lightning, fireworks, fill-in-the-blank. Their own true reaction, without input from an adult, is important.

Much like JK Rowling, Walls is able to elevate her writing with her age during the events in the memoir. As they near the age of realization that others live and interact differently in the world, Jeannette and her siblings come to realize their life with questionable parenting has consequences and is not an adventure as they were led to believe. The moment of realization that "I have to get out" seems so much more immediate and essential to survival than my own same feelings in my late teens.

The main reactions I had to the stories were about my own family life and that I had it really good. Even in the worst of times our family was functional and loving. "Adversity builds character" is proven time and again in all situations I see and I would be interested to meet and observe Walls and her siblings in real life. I also found myself hoping that the stories Walls tells were very embellished and exaggerated because I could not help but think, "How could these children possibly have survived or still have any feelings or thoughts for their parents?" The answer is of course that they see their experiences through a much different lens and, even within their own sibling group, have much different reactions to the experiences they faced with their mom and dad. One of my favorite authors, Diana Gabaldon, uses a phrase in her Outlander series that goes something like this: Home is the place where they have to take you in no matter what you did. That goes both ways here. My home and family was that place. So was Walls' home and family.

I also continue to marvel at the visceral reaction I can have at the written word. I read mostly on the bus to and from work. Strangers probably see me and my book/ereader and see my facial expressions changing with the scenes. They may see me laugh, scowl, gasp, or respond in some other way and wonder what I am reading, or maybe what I am on. I have completely lost it and laughed hysterically a time or two. I nearly cried once as well. What is it about stories, told aloud, seen on a screen, or read on a page, that drive deep into our minds and hearts this way? I wouldn't trade it if I knew how. Read this memoir. 

Previous Book: The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien
Book Reviewed: The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls
Current Book: The Passage, Justin Cronin

New Blog FYI: I will do book reviews when I read something new. Also, someday I will create my own template and make this blog more me. Someday.