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Mothers And Sons: In Their Own Words
This unique volume offers insights on each phase of the relationship between mother & baby. Captures the compelling connections between mothers & sons & translates those subtle emotions into deceptively simple photos. The sharp focus squarely on the telling facial expression or body language makes the seemingly ordinary wholly original. The famous -- among them Bill Clinton, Mary Higgins Clark, Steven Spielberg, & Ruth Bader Ginsburg -- & the obscure get the same attentive treatment. In the accompanying texts, mothers & sons reveal their most trying & their most exalted moments with candor & humor. "This is a powerful tribute in both words & images to the unique yet universal relationship between mothers & sons."
- GenresNonfictionArt
Paperback
First published March 1, 1996
About the author
Isabel Allende
231 books46.2k followersIsabel Allende Llona is a Chilean-American novelist. Allende, who writes in the "magic realism" tradition, is considered one of the first successful women novelists in Latin America. She has written novels based in part on her own experiences, often focusing on the experiences of women, weaving myth and realism together. She has lectured and done extensive book tours and has taught literature at several US colleges. She currently resides in California with her husband. Allende adopted U.S. citizenship in 2003.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
November 21, 2022
Isabel Allende wrote in her introduction about her 3-year-old: "With great difficulty Paula would take the baby out of his crib and drag him by a foot to my bed."
As expected, this book is full of heartwarming, affirming tributes to sons and mothers. One can see how they have shaped one another's lives. What sons see, and the mutual connections.
Colin Salmon's tribute to a mother gone too soon was so full; "But I see her in my daughters. Her spirit is everywhere, and she sill makes me smile."
At the age of five, based on all the paintings in his home, Winston Churchill's grandson thought his grandfather was a painter.
Peterson Zah, President of the Navajo Nation, wrote that his mother always said, "You should be honest. Not for anyone else, but for yourself. And do not ever think that when it gets dark you are free to do anything. The night is your grandfather. Although you cannot see and people do not hear you, by the fact that your grandfather is there, you know he would be greatly disappointed if you were dishonest. You should always follow your own traditional values day or night and live by those principles."
Nancy Adler shared "Roman and I share a powerful bond. How does he know me so well? How is it that we don't need to speak in order to understand each other? How can he know when I need a hug? Why is he not embarrassed to reach out and squeeze my hand no matter who might be watching? Quite simply, he radiates a warm feeling from which I draw strength and courage."
My daughters can finish my sentences, which not only helps me, but amazes me to no end. It fills my heart.
Mary Higgins Clark's childhood "ambition was to have six children so that they could sit even on the bus." I especially enjoyed her story of triumph; the challenges she faced and overcame, the energy she expended to become a respected writer. "As if five children, a full-time job, and a new career as a novelist were not enough to keep her busy, Mother announced several years ago that she had no intention of being the only non-college graduate in the Clark family. The same dogged determination that powered her as a writer served her well in the classroom. For her children, the most memorable aspects of her college days were the courses that gave her difficulty. When a midterm exam in logic produced a failing grade, we saw an opportunity to return past favors and introduced drastic measures to help. her. I confiscated the car keys. My sister placed severe restrictions on Mother's social life. My brother lectured her on the difficult job market she would face if her grades did not improve. Our 'parental' concern paid off and Mother graduated summa cum laude."
Fera Levitas wrote of her son Mitchel, "I can't get tot he library, so he supplies me with books. Even when I don't like a book I try to finish it to find out why I don't like it. I generally read two or three books at the same time. Misha also finds customers for my quilts because he knows that making them gives me great pleasure. Being idle I regard as the worst punishment. // I think I still belong to the world because of my son."
I also try to finish books I am not enjoying, but I read one piece of fiction at a time.
Although Judith Keller says it was just the two of them and they were close, she "was always in school or at work during his childhood". "I'm sure there is much I still do not understand about how he grew up and why he chose to reject the academic life that surrounded him for so long."
I appreciate the humility, the frankness in sharing that while one may know a beloved child, one still does not understand every piece, experience, or mindset that makes them whole.
Her son Rush Clinger paid tribute in part with "It's hard living in this world with the ways my mom let me grow up, being antisexist and antiracist and politically radical. You have to be strong and willing to be right and to be wrong. Leave yourself open to new ideas, be creative, learn how to listen: My mom taught me that. Strength comes from love, unconditional love, not faucet love that can be turned on and off or even turned down or left dripping. There is a certain freedom that comes from knowing you're loved. What you know is always with you whether you need it or not."
Novelist Sarah Bird's contribution was also published in the "Hers" column of the New York Times Magazine, May 1, 1994. I highly recommend it. "...in college, in the sixties, I started Damsels in Dissent, a group which counseled draft candidates to eat balls of tinfoil and put laundry soap in their armpits to fool induction center doctors."
Flutist Susan Rotholz wrote that "It is my challenge to move smoothly between my home life as a nurturing , loving, step-to-the-side-and-let-them-grow mother, to the stage, as an expressive, self-possessed, loving performer. The contrast is astounding. I am often overwhelmed, but happily full."
Well said.
Nora Atlas wrote of her son James, who was a writer, editor and publisher, "One should have recognized the first sign of a literary bnt on Jim's part when at age three, after emerging from aheated swimming pool into extreme cold, he shouted" 'I'm suffering!' as he ran for cover."
"...Jim, in a rebellious mood one day, left the high school bus; an act that was immediately reported to us by a fellow student, who quoted him as saying he was running away from home. My husband and I, in a panic, hurried to downtown Chicago, combing various bus stations to no avail. My desperate call to his father's office revealed that Jim had sought refuge in Brentano's bookstore. Ecstatic at finding him there, poring over Camus and Kafka rather than en route to some remote city, I rewarded him by taking him out to lunch. So much for my role as a disciplinarian."
These days, Nora's actions would be better understood - spend time with the teen in a neutral setting, demonstrating your presence no matter what, and hopefully you'll come to understand the action.
For his part, James shared of his mother the homemaker that he "never felt that my mother approved of me. Maybe it was that...she wished...to be doing something else...After all, she had been a journalism student at Northwestern...I sensed some stifled potentiality, some *anger*, as if she had given up a part of her life for mine. Maybe this was the source of my guilt."
"To this day, I feel frightened whenever I'm in a room with her - even in my own living room, surrounded by my wife and children, a forty-five-year-old man in a suit, arriving home on a warm June night, with a briefcase full of work. Sometimes I feel that my mother alone really knows who I am - the furtive boy, the trespasser, the secret wanker in his room."
What honesty.
As expected, this book is full of heartwarming, affirming tributes to sons and mothers. One can see how they have shaped one another's lives. What sons see, and the mutual connections.
Colin Salmon's tribute to a mother gone too soon was so full; "But I see her in my daughters. Her spirit is everywhere, and she sill makes me smile."
At the age of five, based on all the paintings in his home, Winston Churchill's grandson thought his grandfather was a painter.
Peterson Zah, President of the Navajo Nation, wrote that his mother always said, "You should be honest. Not for anyone else, but for yourself. And do not ever think that when it gets dark you are free to do anything. The night is your grandfather. Although you cannot see and people do not hear you, by the fact that your grandfather is there, you know he would be greatly disappointed if you were dishonest. You should always follow your own traditional values day or night and live by those principles."
Nancy Adler shared "Roman and I share a powerful bond. How does he know me so well? How is it that we don't need to speak in order to understand each other? How can he know when I need a hug? Why is he not embarrassed to reach out and squeeze my hand no matter who might be watching? Quite simply, he radiates a warm feeling from which I draw strength and courage."
My daughters can finish my sentences, which not only helps me, but amazes me to no end. It fills my heart.
Mary Higgins Clark's childhood "ambition was to have six children so that they could sit even on the bus." I especially enjoyed her story of triumph; the challenges she faced and overcame, the energy she expended to become a respected writer. "As if five children, a full-time job, and a new career as a novelist were not enough to keep her busy, Mother announced several years ago that she had no intention of being the only non-college graduate in the Clark family. The same dogged determination that powered her as a writer served her well in the classroom. For her children, the most memorable aspects of her college days were the courses that gave her difficulty. When a midterm exam in logic produced a failing grade, we saw an opportunity to return past favors and introduced drastic measures to help. her. I confiscated the car keys. My sister placed severe restrictions on Mother's social life. My brother lectured her on the difficult job market she would face if her grades did not improve. Our 'parental' concern paid off and Mother graduated summa cum laude."
Fera Levitas wrote of her son Mitchel, "I can't get tot he library, so he supplies me with books. Even when I don't like a book I try to finish it to find out why I don't like it. I generally read two or three books at the same time. Misha also finds customers for my quilts because he knows that making them gives me great pleasure. Being idle I regard as the worst punishment. // I think I still belong to the world because of my son."
I also try to finish books I am not enjoying, but I read one piece of fiction at a time.
Although Judith Keller says it was just the two of them and they were close, she "was always in school or at work during his childhood". "I'm sure there is much I still do not understand about how he grew up and why he chose to reject the academic life that surrounded him for so long."
I appreciate the humility, the frankness in sharing that while one may know a beloved child, one still does not understand every piece, experience, or mindset that makes them whole.
Her son Rush Clinger paid tribute in part with "It's hard living in this world with the ways my mom let me grow up, being antisexist and antiracist and politically radical. You have to be strong and willing to be right and to be wrong. Leave yourself open to new ideas, be creative, learn how to listen: My mom taught me that. Strength comes from love, unconditional love, not faucet love that can be turned on and off or even turned down or left dripping. There is a certain freedom that comes from knowing you're loved. What you know is always with you whether you need it or not."
Novelist Sarah Bird's contribution was also published in the "Hers" column of the New York Times Magazine, May 1, 1994. I highly recommend it. "...in college, in the sixties, I started Damsels in Dissent, a group which counseled draft candidates to eat balls of tinfoil and put laundry soap in their armpits to fool induction center doctors."
Flutist Susan Rotholz wrote that "It is my challenge to move smoothly between my home life as a nurturing , loving, step-to-the-side-and-let-them-grow mother, to the stage, as an expressive, self-possessed, loving performer. The contrast is astounding. I am often overwhelmed, but happily full."
Well said.
Nora Atlas wrote of her son James, who was a writer, editor and publisher, "One should have recognized the first sign of a literary bnt on Jim's part when at age three, after emerging from aheated swimming pool into extreme cold, he shouted" 'I'm suffering!' as he ran for cover."
"...Jim, in a rebellious mood one day, left the high school bus; an act that was immediately reported to us by a fellow student, who quoted him as saying he was running away from home. My husband and I, in a panic, hurried to downtown Chicago, combing various bus stations to no avail. My desperate call to his father's office revealed that Jim had sought refuge in Brentano's bookstore. Ecstatic at finding him there, poring over Camus and Kafka rather than en route to some remote city, I rewarded him by taking him out to lunch. So much for my role as a disciplinarian."
These days, Nora's actions would be better understood - spend time with the teen in a neutral setting, demonstrating your presence no matter what, and hopefully you'll come to understand the action.
For his part, James shared of his mother the homemaker that he "never felt that my mother approved of me. Maybe it was that...she wished...to be doing something else...After all, she had been a journalism student at Northwestern...I sensed some stifled potentiality, some *anger*, as if she had given up a part of her life for mine. Maybe this was the source of my guilt."
"To this day, I feel frightened whenever I'm in a room with her - even in my own living room, surrounded by my wife and children, a forty-five-year-old man in a suit, arriving home on a warm June night, with a briefcase full of work. Sometimes I feel that my mother alone really knows who I am - the furtive boy, the trespasser, the secret wanker in his room."
What honesty.
December 1, 2018
Beautiful portraits with touching commentary written by the mothers and sons in the images about each other.
August 16, 2012
This is another photograph with stories book that I love: Mother and Sons: In Their Own Words.
The photographs and the comments or stories provided by the mothers and sons were wonderful. There were people I never heard of until this book and others I had heard of, but never knew anything as personal as what they discussed regarding their relationships with each other.
The photographs and the comments or stories provided by the mothers and sons were wonderful. There were people I never heard of until this book and others I had heard of, but never knew anything as personal as what they discussed regarding their relationships with each other.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews