AN ASTOR DESCENDANT, RICH ONLY IN NAME AND HISTORY . . .
The Astor Orphan is an unflinching memoir by a direct descendant of John Jacob Astor, Alexandra Aldrich.
She brilliantly tells the story of her eccentric, fractured family; her 1980s childhood of bohemian neglect in the squalid attic of Rokeby, the family's Hudson Valley Mansion; and her brave escape from the clan. Aldrich reaches back to the Gilded Age when the Astor legacy began to come undone, leaving the Aldrich branch of the family penniless and squabbling over what was left. Mordantly funny, sometimes shocking, it's a dazzling debut set amid the ruins of a once prominent family.
Alexandra Aldrich, a direct Astor descendant, lived at Rokeby, the house at the heart of this story, until the age of fourteen, when she left to attend boarding school. She later moved to Poland, where she studied violin and history, and then back to the United States, where she taught high school English and converted to Orthodox Judaism.
I found the idea of this book intriguing: what happens to one of America’s most famous families once they have fallen from their seat of power? Unfortunately the reality of this book was just a muddled mess. The title of the book, The Astor Orphans, comes from 11 siblings of the Astor family that were in fact orphans and all followed a somewhat eccentric path. The title implies the book will follow their stories, but they lived four generations before the author, and while there are random references to the orphans, the book mostly focuses on a series of memories the author had as a ten-year-old. Aldrich tells us that her family is not actually the aristocratic Astors of New York society, but rather their country cousins that are living in the shabby remains of grandeur. It’s somewhat unclear why she chose to write this book as she is not flattering her family airing their dirty laundry and telling us that her fondest wish was to live in a clean house with dinner on the table and structured bedtimes. I think I would have appreciated the book more this had been a true memoir about growing up with the myth of the Astor legacy and having to find her own way in the world. Instead Aldrich gave us a series of unconnected memories as a child that had me asking myself why I was reading this book.
This book was a little too jerky for me to completely enjoy. The prologue was a couple pages long and was a snap shot of a moment in time when the author was 10. Chapter One introduced the lineage, the 11 Astor orphans, and it was muddled and complicated listing the great deeds of various great great grandparents and great aunts and uncles. I couldn't figure out the relevance of the prologue to the first chapter, or any other. The majority of it flowed fairly well, though there was still mention of these various ancestors, which left me feeling like I was fumbling. It took over half the book for me to distinguish what years the author told the majority of the book (the early 80's), which also left me feeling unbalanced. I did however really enjoy looking at the black at white phones that began each new chapter, and I appreciated that the chapters themselves were short (only 4 or 5 pages each). As I don't read memoirs frequently I'm not sure if my dislike of this stemmed from my own unfamiliarity with this genre or with the mechanics.
This is a memoir written in the same genre as The Glass Castle and Welfare Brat, both of which were considerably better than this one.
Alexandra Aldrich is sympathetic, and although we are roughly the same age, I often found myself wanting to adopt her and give her the sort of nurturing that all children deserve. But as a memoir, The Astor Orphan is too thin for the breadth that she's attempting. The story connects Aldrich's 1980's childhood with her forebears, but few of the characters are fleshed out. Her mother is cold, "icy" as the jacket text describes her, but there must be more to her, since Aldrich claims to want to rescue her from the father that she (Alexandra) seems to mostly adore. The relationship with her grandmother is complex, although she's at pains to show Grandma Claire as a resource and a figure of relative security in hr life. With every vignette I wanted to know more about the situation, to get the details of how it worked out, to understand the players more fully, and with every vignette, I was left hanging. While these stories may have been complete in the author's mind, I felt like she didn't communicate that completeness in the story.
This incompleteness totally culminated in Alexandra Aldrich's "escape" to boarding school. How good an escape was it? What did she do with her new liberty? Did she go home for Thanksgiving? What did she discover about herself, or come to understand about her father, by attending his alma mater? How many of the dire stories that he told her about his time there did she experience for herself? Did she ultimately "rescue" her mother and attain the sort of orderly life she had been craving?
Finally, the prose itself: spare; simple sentences; a little repetitious. I liked it in a way, since the spareness of it felt straightforward and refreshing, but it also felt like a mask. I appreciate that the subject was difficult for Aldrich, that perhaps in some ways she is still too close to the material to write it as openly as she may have intended. But if she was ready to write about her unconventional childhood, then I wish she could have written more fully and openly. It's unfortunate, perhaps, that The Glass Castle was so extraordinarily good and generous, because every other "deprived childhood" memoir that comes after it almost necessarily suffers by comparison. If Alexandra Aldrich writes a follow-on to The Astor Orphan, I'll read it, because I sincerely want to know how one hangs on to the precious parts of a heritage and discards the corrosive elements of it to emerge as a whole person. But perhaps she isn't ready to write that story.
Quirky memoir about growing up Astor... in name, sort of. Ms. Aldrich is related to the Astors, Livingstons and other aristocratic Americans but is definitely the poor cousin. Her family lives at Rokeby, the Chanler estate, a decrepit mansion on 450 acres in Duchess County, New York. Dad Teddy is the unpaid handyman, trying to keep things ticking along, at war with his brother over what happens with and on the property. Grandmother Claire, an alcoholic, despairs of her younger son's life and tries to take care of Alexandra, eventually organizing things so she goes away to boarding school at age 14. All Alexandra wants is a clean house, good food and to fit in. You can guess how that goes.
The writing style is a little breezy, and some of the relationships between Astors would benefit from a family tree, but this is definitely a fast, fun read.
First, I should admit that I don't love memoirs. Second, you should know that I really really enjoyed this book! It works chronologically and it is written in first person, but it doesn't READ like a memoir because it doesn't become boring or unconnected.
This is just such an interesting family and story, that I am so glad Aldrich decided to write it down. There is something really engrossing about the whole thing and I agree that it made me want to look into the family and mansion a little more. To me, that's the sign of great non-fiction.
So far I'm enjoying this but wish the photos had some sort of description, but I'm reading the ARC so maybe the final version will have more information.
Update: This is one of those memoirs I'm going to be thinking about for a while and combing the Internet for more information on this highly dysfunctional family. Fascinating memoir and even more so after learning the family is still living in the manse. I predict this will be a good bet for book groups.
Note: Is it fair to call this family "highly dysfunctional" if it doesn't involve any kind of real violence, just mental weirdness?
It was really might fault that I did not like this book. I never should have chosen it. As a rule, while I like biography, I do not like memoir. And I especially do not like to read memoirs written by people with disfunctional, drug addict, or alcoholic parents.
If you like the feel sorry for me memoir, even though I pretend to be plucky and self-reliant, you might enjoy this.
I'm not entirely sure what to make of this book. Obviously it was compelling enough for me to finish it, but I can't say that I loved it. The Hudson River Valley and its crumbling estates have always fascinated me. I'm also no stranger to folks having property but no money--that's a very southern way of life. That said, most of the folks in this book are reprehensible--at least by Aldrich's recounting. Alcoholics, negligent parents, ne'er do wells, adulterers, people capable of violence against animals--these aren't upstanding folk. Often Aldrich goes along with them which isn't totally surprising since she was a child during all of these stories. These are a people obsessed with money and appearances and the ending proves that Aldrich is no different. Maybe I wanted a little more romance when there simply wasn't any (and by that I mean a nostalgia, a romance for the past, a certain noblesse oblige) or maybe I'm such a poor housekeeper I kept taking offense at Aldrich's constant cries for order.
No, I really think I wanted Aldrich to get a job and make something of herself while still showing a pride in who she was and where she was from. Instead, her fondest wish throughout the book is to be rescued by a rich relative which means she wasn't learning a whole lot from the damaged adults around her. The last few pages are all about her attempts to fit in instead of continuing her earlier self-discipline and scholarly studies. My general sense is that she couldn't take responsibility for her own weaknesses or actions any more than any of the other members of her family.
The Astor connection draws you in but ultimately the story is just sad and pointless. Tween lives with her overeducated and undermotivated father and lonely mother in a rambling, decaying mansion also occupied by disinterested extended family burdened by a long-spent legacy of past riches. Author’s biggest complaint seems to be that she didn’t get enough attention or structure and that they weren’t as rich as generations past. Honestly, I couldn’t give this book much attention either and skimmed through the last half to see if anything interesting happened. Her dollhouse being appropriated by a younger cousin got more play than a serious accident crippling a half-cousin and a new illegitimate addition to the family. Probably good for her therapeutically to get these tired old childhood complaints out of her system but not interesting enough for an audience.
Wow. So. I hate to be critical of anyone's life story. So I'll try to just...keep this short. It was one of my least favorite audiobooks this year. I'm not sure what made it worthy to be made into a book, except that perhaps it was cathartic for the author to regurgitate her own insights into her childhood. The people, even the girl at the heart of the story, are unlikable at best. I could say more, but like I said I always feel uncomfortable critiquing a real person's story. So... I'll stop now with a simple, I should have passed on this title and wouldn't recommend it to my friends.
I didn't love this book. Couldn't give it a 3 star and was fine with the 2 star. I think that learning about what a life is like on the inside when the way it is perceived in the world is a great idea. Anything behind the scenes thrills me - I'd love to take a tour of any factory (Toyota would be great - oh yes) and when a book gives me the same feeling I am always keen to read it. The Astor Orphan had the kernel of this idea but it never really came to fruition.
It seemed like the author was occasionally defending her father, criticizing her relatives, pining for something that she'll never get and didn't ever weave it together into something that made sense. I felt like there wasn't ever a feeling that the book would resolve anything for her (and I know that this isn't required for a book to be successful)and even though the last chapter has her leaving the estate and arriving at a boarding school it wasn't at all satisfying.
It might be of interest to book clubs as there is a little something in there about growing up and seeing a family change and crumble but it isn't a great read. She might have been trying to go for something like The Glass Castle but there wasn't much to love about any of the people she described so there was no balance between light and dark. Just didn't love this book. Glad I read it and will follow a path to learn more about her family but didn't love it.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Alexandra Aldrich grew up as the "poor relation" at Rokeby, the family home of the Astor family. A direct descendant of the Astors, her family had no money and lived in 3 rooms of the 43 room mansion. Other members of the clan also lived in the house, and they made no secret of their disgust for her bohemian father who tried to keep the family farm running. She worshipped her father who was totally dependent on the largess of his younger brother who held the purse strings and his mother, Grandmother Claire. Her mother was Polish, and fairly indifferent to her daughter. Alexandra had even less status than her parents. This memoir follows Alexandra over the course of a couple of years of her early adolescence, and describes how her less than ideal life took a turn for the worse when her father took up with a French woman.
I was very depressed by this story, and I never felt a connection to the author. I wasn't sure what the purpose of her story was either since it stopped so abruptly with her entrance to boarding school. I was left wondering what message was she trying to convey.
A very personal snapshot of the lives of former American aristocrats.
Why did I put off reading this for so long? I had spent a lot of my youth at Rokeby (where the book takes place), to me it was a magical place. I had no idea of the daily lives of the people who lived there. It's a bit of a shocker actually. This book fills in a lot of holes, while also re-enforcing the esteem I had for the history of the place. This book is WONDERFUL for history buffs, where not one but many of the people whom you'll recognize from history books were included in the backstory of the house and the family.
I liked it. I'll recommend it to a few friends who live in the northeast.
What an engaging non-fiction story that reads like fiction. The author is a descendant of one the most famous & wealthy aristocratic families: the Astors, except she did not grow up in wealth despite living in the family estate, Rokeby. Her childhood is filled with stories of her dysfunctional, eccentric relatives, including her parents, her alcoholic grandmother & cheating father. Ms. Aldrich grew up alienated & grew up as an independent girl lacking in attention, attention she desperately craved. It's a quick read at 257 pages & an enjoyable one.
Disjointed narrative and poor storytelling. Needed a good editor. It was underwhelming. Somehow she made a barn fire, the hospitalisation of her alcoholic grandmother, her father's open affair that results in an 'illegitimate' child, the discovery of a body on the property and the mysterious death of two goats (this was also never explained) just... dull. Dull and flat.
While the premise sounded interesting, the execution of the story didn’t work for me. It never drew me in and I was frequently bored; the story may have been interesting if told differently. This felt disjointed to me.
I was drawn to this one after reading Phantoms of the Hudson Valley, which has a chapter on Rokeby. Being published in 1995, that places the interviews and site visit done for it (where the author was shown around by Alexandra's eccentric father) not long after the time period of this memoir. Monica Randall's book includes a random goat appearance, and Aldrich's account of the cluttered storage rooms full of broken things, yet great pride in family history, matches Randall's observations.
That's exactly what I came to find out more about -- an alternate perspective on the world opened to me in that book. After finishing Phantoms, I found myself wondering what it must be like for a child in the modern day to grow up in a house with this type of heritage and responsibility behind it -- and now here it is. One take on it, anyway.
The writing is fairly utilitarian, but she's described her work on this book as "therapeutic," and that's exactly the sense I got. When I was first looking at it, I couldn't understand why a person would make it their mission to run from a history like this -- I am definitely her uncle, fastidiously keeping track of the family records -- but by the end, I too could see why she was so desperate to both impose order on her life and escape to boarding school. It does, indeed, sound as "Bohemian" as could be in those days, and -- between the scrounging for supper, parents who seem more interested in their own pursuits than parenting, and relying largely on an alcoholic grandmother for support -- a difficult way to grow up. Which makes it fascinating to read about.
I also enjoyed that throughout the text, she outlines the history of previous generations and how they fit into the family tree, while largely focusing on her immediate family members, whom you're unlikely to find a lot of ink about just yet. Very "insider's guide," compared to the tour-group version.
Then I did a bit of digging, curious to know where the story went after she headed off to boarding school. I recommend this early article from 2010 for a general sense of the place. Pertinent details include: her grandmother lived until 1998, as of 2018 her parents both still lived there, and her half brother spent summers there growing up and seemingly remains involved in the property, which is still owned by the same people it was then, though in better condition.
Two of her cousins live and work there to this day. The author also moved back to the estate for several years with her young son, and wrote the book there. She's changed her childhood tune about thinking that if they sold the property, they could all live comfortably again, and taken up the widespread viewpoint that the estate is part of the family identity. It's a nice circle. Kind of wish that had been reflected somewhere in the book, which cuts off rather abruptly, but perhaps she just didn't want to commit the present to paper, unlike her past, which she's had plenty of time to analyze and digest.
Had The Astor Orphan been a work of fiction, we could criticize it for having a confusing profusion of characters and a story line totally lacking in credibility. But the book is a memoir written by a direct descendant of intermarried, powerful, wealthy early American families, the 1% of their day, with names such as Astor, Livingston (a signer of the Declaration of Independence), Armstrong (minister to France and member of President Madison's cabinet) and others.
Alexandra Aldrich grew up in the family's deteriorating 43-room mansion known as Rokeby, situated on acreage on the banks of New York's Hudson River. Rather, she and her parents lived in a shabby three-room section of the mansion. Her father inherited a share of the property but none of the family money, which was now gone. His upbringing and elite education did not provide him with the skills to earn a living, so he ended up cheerfully assuming the never-ending job of maintaining the house and grounds. He, and in turn she, was an object of scorn to other family shareholders either for lack of money or for violating the never-ending catalogue of family behavioral norms.
Rokeby, both the estate and its chaotic, toxic family culture, became a prison of sorts for Aldrich. The memoir spans approximately four years of her life from age 10 to 14. She realizes early on that she will have to escape this environment if she is ever to have a chance to realize her own dreams of a normal and independent existence.
Although Aldrich's circumstances were anything but typical, anyone who has endured family dysfunction, intimidation, loneliness or bullying, or who has tried in vain to fit in with others, will be able to relate to this book. Although the memoir's end, which I will not give away, represents a new start for Alexandra, I can't help feeling like the story ended too soon and too abruptly. It would be interesting to know more about the next phases of her journey than was shared in the About the Author note at the end of the book.
I've always been fascinated by the American aristocracy, especially after living in Newport, RI, for three years. I'd go down to the mansions and tour this grand homes, though they were just cottages to their wealthy owners. The Vanderbilt "cottage," called The Breakers, was the most opulent and boasted over 70 rooms! Another of my favorite houses along Bellevue Avenue was the Astors' Beechwood, the summer home of the famous Astor family, of whom Aldrich is a descendent. So it came as a surprise to me that the Astor money is all gone, and that the descendants are living as paupers on their own property.
What would it be like to live in a huge mansion along the Hudson River, but not have enough money to buy food? I can't even imagine Aldrich's father's sense of impotence, to be raised as a gentleman, one above having a profession, yet not being able to support his family because he doesn't work. The ways in which Aldrich and her family were ostracized, even by the other members of the family living in the same house. Her only champion was her grandmother Claire, who eventually descended into the same bottle of drink that killed her husband many years before.
As interesting as this all is, it's more interesting retrospectively, to put the whole picture together and come up with the sense of Aldrich's childhood. The book itself seems rather disjointed, with various episodes just thrown together, and random asides thrown in. Plus the ending is very abrupt, with her finally escaping Rokeby by going to boarding school. It's also hard to read about her mother. I understand having a terrible relationship with one's mother, but I am not sure I would put it quite so plainly in print.
It would also have been handy to have the photographs printed with the captions underneath, instead of in a list at the beginning.
If you have ever wondered what became of the heirs of the spectacular gilded age fortunes, you may find this of interest. It is a short and simple memoir of one of branch of the Astor family.
Alexandra Aldrich's father enjoyed wealth, travel and a Harvard education as a young man. He now attempts to farm the family estate which he and his mother and brother have inherited. They live in separate compounds in and near a decaying mansion filled with antiques from the aristocratic forebears. The mother inherited some cash. The brother has a job. Alexandra's father is not trained for a career, neither will his aristocratic attitudes allow him to consider training/employment. He attempts to farm the estate and maintain some rental units on it.
The vehicles don't always work, her father smells, a mistress appears and reappears, and everyone drinks. While there is no money for food, there is money for violin lessons, pageants, trip(s?) to Poland, a stylish haircut and cosmetics when needed, and later, a private boarding school. Just as Aldrich writes of the poverty within this world, she writes of its neglect of her, which similarly has many exceptions to the premise. It may be the child's eye is not seeing all.
This is a light and interesting read which gives some insight into the lives and values of eccentric descendants of a prominent family. Those interested in this, may want to read Fortune's Children: The Fall of the House of Vanderbilt which gives an overview of the Vanderbilt family today. There are many disinherited aristocrats in England where the primogeniture custom assures all but the first son must fend for themselves in less comfortable situations.
This was actually a delightful quick read. Read over commutes and breaks in the course of one day.
Aldrich's recollection of her childhood as a "poor" descendant of rich aristocrats is really well told. She's a good guide through the family tree and the house that's left in the family. The sorry state of the manor is also palpable.
*
Grandma Claire is a heroine, despite her alcoholism. Aldrich's father and mother (and Giselle) also come into view for their self-absorption and preference for the company of adults. Growing up with (bohemian) adults, Alexandra strives for a more disciplined, meaningful life and you can see that in the things and people she admires--despite the fact that she could be a bully to other kids.
I didn't expect very much, but I really liked this book. The author had a melancholic childhood amongst a family of eccentric characters--and it's quite interesting. Won't be able to visit Rokeby in the Hudson River Valley without thinking about (the real people and) this book.
** Read the NYT article about Rokeby here: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/22/gar... (for the vocab word: impecunious) *** Also reading the text was the first time in a long time that the store Caldor came up...used to be one in Flushing ~20 yrs ago. Yikes! I am getting old...
While I enjoyed this and thought it was well-written, the plotting missed the mark somehow... either there wasn't really enough to write a book about, or the author wrote about the wrong things. I didn't pick this up expecting it to be a squalid-childhood memoir--then I saw that that's how it is packaged. And again, either her childhood wasn't particularly squalid or she didn't get the squalidity across. A somewhat unusual/bohemian upbringing, sure, but not that bad. (I wonder if it just seemed bad compared to the childhoods of her friends from boarding school and college? That's my theory. That she started telling her friends stories and they listened with open mouths.) Her mother is mad that a relative is willing to pay for boarding school after they've been "going hungry" for years, but, I mean... even though we're told she doesn't know where the next meal is coming from, there always does seem to BE a next meal, and I just can't be too worried about someone who has aunts who pay for boarding school.
I often wished for a multi-generation family tree while reading this. I read an advance copy, so maybe one is in the final edition; it would have been helpful.
As a memoir of a dysfunctional childhood this book is fine. Growing up in an alcohol-affected environment with mental illness (several extended family members qualify in each category) it illustrates the damaging effect of such an environment.
As a recounting of "how the mighty have fallen" it is instructive and insightful. I learned how the upper crust is educated but not prepared for a profession, of how important holding on to status can be, and to what extent some will go to keep up appearances. It also shows how difficult it is to maintain a mansion when funds are limited.
But I kept waiting for some reason for the writing of the book, some conclusion to be drawn, something to take away and apply, a reason to care. Unfortunately it didn't provide any of those.
And the ending, at age 14 and entry into boarding school, only left one wondering what happened. The acknowledgements at the end give too brief of a glimpse into the adult that Alexandra became. Some conclusion would have been good, perhaps giving explanation of why a memoir was important enough to be published. But in the absence of such an explanation it is difficult to give this more than three stars.
The image "Astor Orphan" calls to mind a much more glamorous picture than the actual book presents.
I found this book to miss the point of why people wanted to read it. The interesting bits about the family were shoved aside for a ten-year-olds story of neglect and poverty. I was hoping for a half Grey Gardens, half Mitford sister's tale. I'm getting more of a Mary Karr vibe. Which is okay, but I like the idea of a wealthy family living in this carcass of a mansion. But it was a very basic mom is emotionally distant, dad's having an affair, grandma's a drunk story.
I was honestly kind of disappointed. The interesting stories, the family history, was shoved aside for more stories about her scumbag "rebel" father who is apparently too aristocratic to get a real job. Oh, such a tragic figure.
Honestly, the book was bitter. It didn't celebrate in the excess of a burned-out fortune, like the cover advertised. It was just a sad book that ends really abruptly and never really lets you go on a good note.
Well, isn't this a surprise! As my mother used to say, " it is as interesting as hell"....fascinating, really. I am mesmerized. Comparisons have been made to Grey Gardens, a real "riches to rags" story , but it is bigger than that. It is more "bloodlines" and how important it is and has always been to this family. Selling the home would have been easy, but was unthinkable. However, this is also a story of a sad, traumatized child, HOPING for things to be normal while living in the middle of neglect. Her story is at times so jaw-dropping that I found myself skimming the stories (about the animals mostly) because I couldn't bear to read every word. Yet, as I said, I was mesmerized. I couldn't stop.I went to Google and researched the "house" in Barryville, NY and looked at the pictures posted there. Do that! It is a fast, unforgettable read.
I received this book free thru Goodreads First Reads. This book was fascinating to me because I live in the Hudson Valley near the Rokeby estate. My late father-in law was a physician to many of the "river people", as the aristocrats were known. He had many stories to tell of some eccentric patients. I personally met Chanler Chapman many times, and have to admit that he was quite eccentric and spoke in a loud, booming voice. I enjoyed this book mostly because it was about people I had heard stories about. I wouldn't recommend to everyone.