The first half of this memoir is more interesting, but I found the focus seemed to wander a bit later on. That perhaps mirrored what was happening in The first half of this memoir is more interesting, but I found the focus seemed to wander a bit later on. That perhaps mirrored what was happening in the author's life, as she was starting to feel it was time to move on from the FBI — which was certainly a demanding, unpredictable and consuming occupation.
When Monroe worked at the BSU, profiling and so on, I was struck how little feedback they were given as cases evolved. It seemed they would do a profile and then move on to the next one, and only rarely discovering if their work was hit or miss. I suppose part of this situation is the sheer volume of cases to be dealt with (many a day, every day).
This is a readable memoir, and certainly interesting to anyone in law enforcement or the justice system, or even to true crime afficionados. ...more
A memoir of boyhood in Halifax, Nova Scotia, before and during World War II.
The chapters are arranged by themes, such as "Smells," "Stores," "Rambles,A memoir of boyhood in Halifax, Nova Scotia, before and during World War II.
The chapters are arranged by themes, such as "Smells," "Stores," "Rambles," and "Radio." When these topics were illuminated by particular memories from the author and his band of mischief-making friends, they came to life. But when the topic turns into almost a list, such as in the section about the importance of radios, and many many names and shows are mentioned, the topic becomes less interesting.
I should note that I am not familiar with the author, who is described as a "well-known" radio and TV performer and author.
Sometimes historical memoirs struggle with the shifting landscape. Often I wish people would just stick to the period, i.e. the 30s, and describe the buildings and the empty fields, without constantly adding what happened later (i.e. now occupied by Scotia Square; or, now the site of Dalplex).
Easy to read, and entertaining, with some repetition (Dalplex is mentioned a few times). I wish the narrative had been a little more straightforward and direct, and more intimate....more
Well written gripping memoir, although I'm usually a little skeptical around detailed accounts remembered from childhood. The author was only eleven wWell written gripping memoir, although I'm usually a little skeptical around detailed accounts remembered from childhood. The author was only eleven when he was in the plane crash, and many of the other events (trips with his father, skiing competitions) took place when he was even younger.
Even so, creative and well-written. No quotation marks are deployed, but one managed to figure it out, almost always without a struggle.
Was craving a bit more narrative thrust, so didn't get far with this fragmented, hallucinated memoir / biography / anecdotal memory-fest.
Unfair to ratWas craving a bit more narrative thrust, so didn't get far with this fragmented, hallucinated memoir / biography / anecdotal memory-fest.
Unfair to rate a book I haven't read, but I decided to pick 3 stars, right in the middle. Fans of Ken Kesey, Neal Cassady, and so on, may find these short chapters endearing, and the trip enduring, and the insights blurring, and now I've lost the train, but the road unwinds, random activities unfold, someone steps on a guitar and breaks it. Green footprints on the roof of the bus, Kesey wears a blindfold when he paints the sides. There is more like this, much more, and sometimes even less much less. There is journeying and travelling and even reaching a destination before racing off again.
The orange sun disappears below the horizon, films are made with no plan, no script, and someone decides later if a transcript is warranted but that it a lot of work. Typewriters are a burden except when speed-writing. Ginsberg arrives but I didn't get that far....more
Face to Face with silent grace Take your place in the old rat race
This is a collection of uncollected poems, and this is just one paradox. Some of these Face to Face with silent grace Take your place in the old rat race
This is a collection of uncollected poems, and this is just one paradox. Some of these were previously unpublished, others were published here and there and the editor dug them back up.
Spiritual, earthy, intimate and sweeping — Ginsberg's poetry is spontaneous, not laboured or over-worked; sometimes with this uncollected collection one feels that "first thought best thought" won out over "polishing."
The moon in the dewdrop is the real moon The moon in the sky's an illusion Which Madhyamaka school does that represent?
{Note provided: "Madhyamaka refers to the Mahayana school of Buddhist philosophy."}
Yes, there were helpful notes to provide context, references, and identify people mentioned....more
The author's family were treasure hunters on Oak Island for a number of years in the 1960s. This account is based on family stories, journals and lettThe author's family were treasure hunters on Oak Island for a number of years in the 1960s. This account is based on family stories, journals and letters.
The introduction states this book was written especially for "teenage readers" but I don't think I would have noticed that if I hadn't been told.
Tragically, the author's father and brother, along with two more workers, all died one day when they were overcome by fumes in a shaft.
I appreciated the intimacy of this family story. Before they were treasure hunters, the author's parents were sideshow performers (performing on motorcycles in the "Globe of Death"), so you know this was not a typical family....more
Never read this before, but for decades have owned a falling-apart paperback from Grove Press / Black Cat books.
At times readable, at times mystifyingNever read this before, but for decades have owned a falling-apart paperback from Grove Press / Black Cat books.
At times readable, at times mystifying. Written in the 1940s and revised in the 1950s, the text is raunchy, lewd, and even pornographic. Therein lies the appeal, I gather, this frank depiction of men and women and what happens when they mingle.
There are two sections here, and largely from the male perspective, which does not flatter men or women. To appreciate the text, one must try to imagine that these things happened in Paris between the wars — and that they happen today all over the world....more
Edmund White died recently, at the age of 85, which prompted me to pick up "My Lives," a memoir. I'm glad I did.
Some of White's recent novels I have fEdmund White died recently, at the age of 85, which prompted me to pick up "My Lives," a memoir. I'm glad I did.
Some of White's recent novels I have found disappointing, but this memoir was (mostly) very engaging. There was one section (I won't say which one) that was too much for this sensitive reader.
There is no chapter list or index, so it it hard to locate the sections. It starts with "My Shrinks" and also covers topics such as "My Friends" and "My Europe". I especially enjoyed "My Genet" which discusses how writing the biography of Jean Genet consumed — and transformed — White's life.
Many times while working my way through this book, I thought, "This is my favourite book of Edmund White's!"...more
This is a simple, direct memoir, based entirely on a journal that was found, years later, that had been kept by a unknown French soldier in the first This is a simple, direct memoir, based entirely on a journal that was found, years later, that had been kept by a unknown French soldier in the first months of World War I.
An honest portrayal of war, marching and blisters, looking for food, helpful strangers, remnants of other soldiers left in the woods. I can't even bear to imagine how much worse things became for everyone after these first two months. Everyone thought the war would be over by Christmas.
Giving this one 5 stars, because of its simplicity and honesty, the real (muted) emotions.
This soldier was injured and the journal stops, although he did continue to collect song lyrics....more
Muddy and unsettling, this slim volume explores the isolation of motherhood and the overwhelming aspects of pregnancy.
Overall, the sparseness of the Muddy and unsettling, this slim volume explores the isolation of motherhood and the overwhelming aspects of pregnancy.
Overall, the sparseness of the storytelling left me wanting more; especially when social services became involved over concerns she was an unfit mother.
A series of vignettes engage the reader’s sympathy and empathy, but also felt a little undeveloped. Another reviewer here, more generous than me, attributed this aspect to the “Mombrain” mentioned in the text....more
I've had this volume in my possession for decades, but have only just recently read it — very slowly.
Naturally, I started at the end, reading about GiI've had this volume in my possession for decades, but have only just recently read it — very slowly.
Naturally, I started at the end, reading about Gide's trips to Algeria and his encounters with Oscar Wilde and "Bosie", and then started from the beginning and read it all the way through — very slowly. (Note: this volume has "omitted portions").
There are beautiful sentences here, sublime and wrenching. Gide's approach to memoir gives one the impression of great insight, self-abasement (and self-aggrandizement), as well as a soul-baring honesty which is both brave and foolish. ...more
Another reviewer here said she reached page 108 and then skipped ahead to page 200. Thanks for the permission!
This author was raised by an erratic, unAnother reviewer here said she reached page 108 and then skipped ahead to page 200. Thanks for the permission!
This author was raised by an erratic, unreliable mother — a fabulist (a polite way to say "liar"). Enabled by the boy's grandmother, she invented an American Indian father (hence the "Skyhorse" name) and basically lied about everything else was well.
There is much repetition in this memoir, as the boy churns through a series of temporary "fathers" — none of which are permanent, or even "real".
As sympathetic as I was to the child's predicament, I also was repelled by the constant lies and manipulation from the mother. The grandmother, too, has to share the blame, because she knew the family was Mexican, but she also depended on her daughter, who could be cruel and vindictive. It's a distressing, swampy situation, and not one I wanted to spend much time wading through.
Giving this one 3 stars, even though that the author had more "fathers" than that....more
I found the format to be awkward and underwhelming. There are two halves to this slim book, one about his father, and one about his mother; the two seI found the format to be awkward and underwhelming. There are two halves to this slim book, one about his father, and one about his mother; the two sections were written 30 years apart.
Naturally, there is much overlap between the two sections, since it is impossible to write about one parent without involving the marriage and the family. The first section, about the father, was written more recently and is somewhat more evolved (while riddled with admissions of "I don't know this, I don't know that"). The second section was more underwhelming, and I felt the two sections could have been better integrated into one sequential narrative.
Short sentimental pieces, dripping nostalgia — odes to a lost time. I found the pieces labelled "People" and "Places", mostly from the 60s to be the mShort sentimental pieces, dripping nostalgia — odes to a lost time. I found the pieces labelled "People" and "Places", mostly from the 60s to be the most engaging. The last section ("Way of Life"— mostly from the 80s) in comparison felt watered down.
This collection is enhanced by photos and some original artwork. There are also some pastoral poems from the author's brother Alan, originally published in the 1930s. They may have resonated in their time.
I enjoyed working my way through this volume....more
This is a difficult book to summarize or describe. I learned a great deal about the many ways men enjoy being humiliated. It is interesting to think oThis is a difficult book to summarize or describe. I learned a great deal about the many ways men enjoy being humiliated. It is interesting to think of humiliation as a consumer good, and this memoirist describes dishing it out in large juicy dollops.
Belcher had a split life during much of this memoir: working as a "lesbian dominatrix" and studying/teaching English and writing.
There is much going on here, including some philosophizing and personal stories of intimate relationships outside of work.
The writing is lean, evocative, and polished. The details are restrained, yet over-the-top. Permit me to circle back to the beginning: this memoir is a challenge to describe. I read it, I liked it, it make me uncomfortable and I could not put it down. It provided a voyeuristic glimpse into lives and experiences which was eye-opening....more
A readable memoir, even if I didn't always believe the author and the way she positioned herself at the centre of every moment. Although, there were aA readable memoir, even if I didn't always believe the author and the way she positioned herself at the centre of every moment. Although, there were also those moments of powerlessness, when she allowed others to lead her astray, to make the worst choices.
Addiction memoirs are always frustrating, because they are never straightforward — one step forward two steps sideways, big jump back, rinse and repeat.
There was an odd combination here, a mix of narcissism and the perverse pride of low self-esteem, that contributed to the rollercoaster ride through these turbulent years.
With a lot of help from others, and much hard work, this author did manage to live through her experiences....more
This author's range of experience is vast, improbable, remarkable — and wildly entertaining.
He even "slept with" The Beatles, and you can read all aboThis author's range of experience is vast, improbable, remarkable — and wildly entertaining.
He even "slept with" The Beatles, and you can read all about it in this collection.
Many of these stories involve horses, and police work, and even work as a mounted police officer in Toronto. Later horse stories are about riding schools, horse rentals to theatrical productions, or a horse delivery to a private island in the Georgian Bay (which involved putting flippers on the horse — see what I mean about improbable).
Leeson hints at sad stories that continue to haunt his dreams, but this volume collects more upbeat tales. Even the serious stories all have a lighter side.
Set in the American south, this graphic novel is lush with detail — but also brutal, with detail.
Blatant racism is on full display, in all its nasty Set in the American south, this graphic novel is lush with detail — but also brutal, with detail.
Blatant racism is on full display, in all its nasty glory. Combine that with a powerful dose of homophobia and this book becomes almost unbearable.
Ahead of its time when first published in 1995 (according to a new foreword by Alison Bechdel), it has now become something of a cult classic. I had never heard of it before stumbling upon it recently.
It is moving and accomplished, but the subject matter will prove challenging for some readers. It is not an "entertaining" read, but is, perhaps, enlightening....more
Not an easy book to read, or endure. There is always a difficulty reading a book about abusive relationships or cults — one is left wondering why the Not an easy book to read, or endure. There is always a difficulty reading a book about abusive relationships or cults — one is left wondering why the author stayed for so long. Of course there is brainwashing, being told that their life will be worse on the "outside" and so on, but still, it is a challenge for the reader to stay around for the journey.
I did not know about this group in Ontario, never heard of them, never knew there was a polygamous sect operating.
The author's oldest son was one of the first to leave; however [spoiler alert] it is very sad to hear that her other son is still with the group and she has had no contact with him since she left.
As an exploration into group control, cult programming and deprogramming, Stockholm syndrome, etc., this book may be of interest to researchers. For general readers, it is a hard slog, no matter how sympathetic one is to the story and horrified by the ordeal. In fact, the more sympathy one has for the author and her family, the harder the book is to endure.
Three stars means "I like it" — I'm sorry, but I didn't, and mostly that is because the ordeal is relentless and almost unbearable....more
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