Roberta Taylor might just as well have gone ahead and called this memoir "Too Many Crooks" as that is what they surely were and yes I realise that is what is subtly implied by the title "Too Many Mothers". Everytime I thought I was about to find a redeeming feature in one of this den of thieves, my hopes were dashed by yet another reprehensible action, and the rough diamond whom I thought was about to be revealed turned out to be a dirty lump of coal afterall . I have only finished reading "that damn book" (as I called it to myself) so that I could get it out of my house. Some may find it amusing, perhaps colourful, but I just found it squalid.