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The Mason House
After her father's untimely death, Theresa faced a rocky and unstable childhood. But there was one place she felt safe: her grandmother's house in Mason, a depressed former copper mining town in Michigan's Upper Peninsula.
Gram's passing leaves Theresa once again at the mercy of the lasting, sometimes destructive grief of her Ojibwe mother and white stepfather. As the family travels back and forth across the country in search of a better life, one thing becomes clear: if they want to find peace, they will need to return to their roots.
The Mason House is at once an elegy for lost loved ones and a tale of growing up amid hardship and hope, exploring how time and the support of a community can at last begin to heal even the deepest wounds.
Gram's passing leaves Theresa once again at the mercy of the lasting, sometimes destructive grief of her Ojibwe mother and white stepfather. As the family travels back and forth across the country in search of a better life, one thing becomes clear: if they want to find peace, they will need to return to their roots.
The Mason House is at once an elegy for lost loved ones and a tale of growing up amid hardship and hope, exploring how time and the support of a community can at last begin to heal even the deepest wounds.
320 pages, Paperback
First published September 29, 2020
11 people are currently reading
635 people want to read
About the author
T. Marie Bertineau
1 book12 followersBorn amidst the copper mining ruins of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, writer T. Marie Bertineau is of Ojibwe-Anishinaabe and French Canadian/Cornish descent. She is a member of the Keweenaw Bay Indian Community of the L’Anse Reservation. Her work has appeared online with Minnesota’s Carver County Arts Consortium; in Mino Miikana, a publication of the Native Justice Coalition and Waub Ajijaak Press; and in Great Lakes Review, Yellow Medicine Review, and others. Marie’s work can also be found on Carrot Ranch dot-com, home of Carrot Ranch Literary Community. The Mason House, her debut memoir, was named a 2021 Michigan Notable Book by the Library of Michigan and received the 2021-2022 Stuart D. and Vernice M. Gross Award for Literature from Saginaw Valley State University. Married and the mother of two, she makes her home in the Upper Peninsula.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 32 reviews
April 12, 2021
When I saw this book pass across my desk at the library where I work, my initial interest was based on the book's setting (the Keweenaw Peninsula of Michigan) and that the author T. Marie Bertineau is a member of the Keweenaw Bay Indian Community. I hold the Keweenaw Peninsula in high regard, since I spent many enjoyable and memorable summers up there at my aunt, uncle, and cousins' house in Baraga. I rarely see books about the that region of Michigan, so my curiosity was piqued. I placed a hold on it and didn't give it much thought until I received the text telling me the book was waiting for me.
To say this book exceeded my expectations would be an understatement. I don't want to give away too many details because I want curious readers to discover the pleasures and emotions of this book for themselves. However, I will say that T. Marie Bertineau's memoir touches upon the sometimes fragmentary memories of our childhoods. It explores the profound warmth we find in the presence of our grandparents, and the pain we experience when they die. The book is also about poverty and family dysfunction and the difficult steps required to overcome these. (The emotional and personal growth of the author's mother is beautiful and deeply moving).
I am amazed that this is T. Marie Bertineau's first book. Her writing is vivid and assured. She is clearly an excellent observer of people and life and her power of description is impressive.
If it isn't obvious, I loved this book and highly recommend it.
To say this book exceeded my expectations would be an understatement. I don't want to give away too many details because I want curious readers to discover the pleasures and emotions of this book for themselves. However, I will say that T. Marie Bertineau's memoir touches upon the sometimes fragmentary memories of our childhoods. It explores the profound warmth we find in the presence of our grandparents, and the pain we experience when they die. The book is also about poverty and family dysfunction and the difficult steps required to overcome these. (The emotional and personal growth of the author's mother is beautiful and deeply moving).
I am amazed that this is T. Marie Bertineau's first book. Her writing is vivid and assured. She is clearly an excellent observer of people and life and her power of description is impressive.
If it isn't obvious, I loved this book and highly recommend it.
April 18, 2023
A very well written memoir that tackles both cute Barbies anecdotes and the more complex themes of identity quest, mourning, alcoholism and cultural heritage, all of them tied by a poetic prose that takes us from the author's early years to her adult life. It's quite a singular telling,especially for people who don't know a lot about Ojibwe culture and the place given to native Americans today in the US.
October 18, 2022
Oh, my goodness! This is the story of the unstable youth that the author and her siblings survived; shiftless, heavy drinking parents who couldn't keep a job, and moved from one place to another frequently, sometimes nearly across the country. Early in life her mainstay was her grandmother, but after her grandmother's death, the siblings supported each other as much as possible, and an aunt also helped to oversee some sense of stability.
Especially admirable is Ms. Bertineau's courage and ability to write and share her story!
Especially admirable is Ms. Bertineau's courage and ability to write and share her story!
October 16, 2022
I really enjoyed this book about growing up in the Keweenaw Peninsula of Michigan. I loved reading about the towns and sights that are familiar to me. Although I did know and was friends with students from the reservation while I lived in Houghton, this book taught me more about their background, beliefs, and struggles. I wish I would have appreciated that part of the area’s history more when I was there but I’m glad to have read about it now.
October 1, 2020
**** Thank you to T. Marie Bertineau and Lanternfish Press for a digital copy for review.****
A disclaimer: my own start with The Mason House was difficult. I found myself unable to keep reading, because of the subject matter that opens this memoir by Keweenaw Bay Anishinaabe author T. Marie Bertineau. This book opens with a funeral and spend the first of three parts set mainly within her grandmother's house. The topic of grandmothers is one that always makes me shift away, sometimes uncomfortably, because I know precisely what loss of a grandmother means. Particularly, when I started this book it was difficult to push forward because I knew precisely the feelings Bertineau was sharing: the loss of a grandmother who has stood as safety and the loss of the space (the Mason house) that accompanies a grandmother's passing is life shattering when you're young. Even more so, when you're young and your grandmother has acted as a layer of protection and reprieve from familial difficulties.
Once I acknowledged what my struggles were (none of which were the fault of the book), I felt better prepared to continue on and I was unable to stop reading Bertineau's poetic, heartfelt, and honest memoir which follows her childhood, her young adulthood and parenthood, her roots across both geographic space and time. Home, family, culture, and returns fill it's pages and I felt parts of this so so deeply. Bertineau storytells with power that is captivating, sometimes painful, and always emotive.
This book isn't easy. There's alcoholism, violence, anger, and fear. Bertineau explains how her family's intergenerational trauma, stemming from boarding schools and death of loved ones, could have triggered such coping mechanisms. But there's also hope that especially surfaces in the last third. It's both hard to look at and impossible to look away from.
A familial story and a story of place, The Mason House is like a familiar melody with different lyrics. It's also a story of growing up, of learning to face trauma, and of finding your way home, even if it's not the same one you remember. Bertineau's vulnerability is offered to the reader without qualifiers and in her vulnerability and all of the storiea she holds I could see myself and all I push away from me when confronted with the past. But the past is so much more complex than good and bad and Bertineau's memoir reminds me that we owe it to ourselves (and our mothers and grandmothers) to hold all of it, because it is that which makes us who we are and who we continue to grow to be.
A disclaimer: my own start with The Mason House was difficult. I found myself unable to keep reading, because of the subject matter that opens this memoir by Keweenaw Bay Anishinaabe author T. Marie Bertineau. This book opens with a funeral and spend the first of three parts set mainly within her grandmother's house. The topic of grandmothers is one that always makes me shift away, sometimes uncomfortably, because I know precisely what loss of a grandmother means. Particularly, when I started this book it was difficult to push forward because I knew precisely the feelings Bertineau was sharing: the loss of a grandmother who has stood as safety and the loss of the space (the Mason house) that accompanies a grandmother's passing is life shattering when you're young. Even more so, when you're young and your grandmother has acted as a layer of protection and reprieve from familial difficulties.
Once I acknowledged what my struggles were (none of which were the fault of the book), I felt better prepared to continue on and I was unable to stop reading Bertineau's poetic, heartfelt, and honest memoir which follows her childhood, her young adulthood and parenthood, her roots across both geographic space and time. Home, family, culture, and returns fill it's pages and I felt parts of this so so deeply. Bertineau storytells with power that is captivating, sometimes painful, and always emotive.
This book isn't easy. There's alcoholism, violence, anger, and fear. Bertineau explains how her family's intergenerational trauma, stemming from boarding schools and death of loved ones, could have triggered such coping mechanisms. But there's also hope that especially surfaces in the last third. It's both hard to look at and impossible to look away from.
A familial story and a story of place, The Mason House is like a familiar melody with different lyrics. It's also a story of growing up, of learning to face trauma, and of finding your way home, even if it's not the same one you remember. Bertineau's vulnerability is offered to the reader without qualifiers and in her vulnerability and all of the storiea she holds I could see myself and all I push away from me when confronted with the past. But the past is so much more complex than good and bad and Bertineau's memoir reminds me that we owe it to ourselves (and our mothers and grandmothers) to hold all of it, because it is that which makes us who we are and who we continue to grow to be.
October 21, 2021
I received this book as a gift from a friend and wasn’t sure what to expect. I grew up in Wisconsin and now live in Michigan, so the culture of midwestern Native Americans has always interested me. This book takes place in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. T. Marie Bertineau is of Anishinaabe-Ojibwe and French Canadian/Cornish descent, which gives this author a unique perspective on life.
Bertineau connects her family, her childhood home, and her culture into a poignant memoir that expanded my knowledge of what life in the Upper Peninsula was like for a young girl growing up in the 1970s. The title refers to the house in the small town of Mason, a former mining town in the Keweenaw Peninsula, which belonged to the author’s paternal grandmother.
The book shares recollections of the author’s childhood where her parents’ alcohol use and other dysfunction made Theresa’s life a living hell. Yet, she finds comfort in visiting her grandmother on the weekends.
I connected deeply to Theresa’s story, as my upbringing is based on similar circumstances. Just like Theresa, my grandmother was my guardian angel.
For that reason, I loved the stories of Theresa’s time with her grandmother the most. The two shared a powerful connection, built on the family lore and the mystique of the “Mason House,” the author’s second home. The Mason House and her grandmother are so interconnected that when her grandmother passes, the house never holds the same magic as it once did.
This is a story built from hardships and unstable childhood. It is the narrative of perseverance, of growing up, and of coming full circle to embrace the women who made Theresa who she is today. Most of all, this is the story of family and acceptance. I laughed, and I cried. I think I grew up a little more, too. This was an excellent read!
Bertineau connects her family, her childhood home, and her culture into a poignant memoir that expanded my knowledge of what life in the Upper Peninsula was like for a young girl growing up in the 1970s. The title refers to the house in the small town of Mason, a former mining town in the Keweenaw Peninsula, which belonged to the author’s paternal grandmother.
The book shares recollections of the author’s childhood where her parents’ alcohol use and other dysfunction made Theresa’s life a living hell. Yet, she finds comfort in visiting her grandmother on the weekends.
I connected deeply to Theresa’s story, as my upbringing is based on similar circumstances. Just like Theresa, my grandmother was my guardian angel.
For that reason, I loved the stories of Theresa’s time with her grandmother the most. The two shared a powerful connection, built on the family lore and the mystique of the “Mason House,” the author’s second home. The Mason House and her grandmother are so interconnected that when her grandmother passes, the house never holds the same magic as it once did.
This is a story built from hardships and unstable childhood. It is the narrative of perseverance, of growing up, and of coming full circle to embrace the women who made Theresa who she is today. Most of all, this is the story of family and acceptance. I laughed, and I cried. I think I grew up a little more, too. This was an excellent read!
April 27, 2023
Once I started reading this book, I couldn't put it down! The author talks about everything from her childhood and moving constantly to her Ojibwe roots and her family history. Some parts made me emotional and I was especially holding it in at the end. What a beautiful ending.
I was shocked that this book barely had any reviews, it was one of my highly anticipated releases when it first came out. I'm so glad I finally read it, because I loved it!
This is an extremely underrated memoir and needs to be picked up by more readers. I highly recommend this to memoir lovers and fans of Educated and the Glass Castle✨
I was shocked that this book barely had any reviews, it was one of my highly anticipated releases when it first came out. I'm so glad I finally read it, because I loved it!
This is an extremely underrated memoir and needs to be picked up by more readers. I highly recommend this to memoir lovers and fans of Educated and the Glass Castle✨
January 21, 2022
It took awhile to get interested in this, but it got better. The author is an eloquent writer. I was very familiar with the areas she lived in the U.P. I felt sad for the little girl who had to move around so much and live with parents embattled by alcohol. Like the author, I too shared a special bond with my Grandma, one I cherish to this day.
June 15, 2023
Reviewed by Dominick Marconi on www.rowanglassworks.org.
Not understanding what you have until you lose it is a bitter feeling. But losing something you’ve always recognized as important leaves a unique wound. The Mason House is a wonderfully vivid memoir painting the likeness of a young woman and her family dealing with that wound and doing their very best from allowing it to fester. And similarly to the many others who have and still must do the same, Marie and her family members struggle to adapt.
Loss is the key emotion of The Mason House and the author, T. Marie Martineau, makes us clearly understand her loss of her “Gramma,” the owner of The Mason House, by showing us who Gramma was through her own eyes. Martineau is great at presenting instantly recognizable people. And the picture she paints of Gramma is one of a genuine, if not often harsh, person with woods lady wisdom. A cool, sometimes enigmatic woman who is worth inheriting some personality from.
Grief over the death of a loved one is a particularly uncomplicated emotion to understand. There are never any ways to prepare or correct words to use when someone passes. The irony in that is, we all understand it to be not only natural and normal, but also impossible to escape. But no matter how much we see it coming or even understand its necessity, we disdain death, because we disdain loss. We fear the realization that someone will forever be missing. The execution of this thing will, for at least a moment, turn the most estranged frequenters of your local bar into an empty chair. A chair that your friend, or family may have sat in. A chair you may have sat in.
Martineau is equally adept at painting landscapes as well as portraits. Her descriptions of the woods of North Michigan and especially those of The Mason House itself are incredibly tangible. If you have ever spent a long amount of time in the wilderness or if you live near the woods you can find yourself in familiar territory. Her descriptions of the stars in the moonlit sky and crackling fires on cold nights mesmerized me.
The nature of the story being fixed on a loving grandmother in a house in the woods attaches a coziness which is often reflected in the writing itself. Even the framing of the speaker reminiscing upon memories of her Gramma at her funeral envelops the stories like a bundle of heavy blankets. Interestingly enough, I found the descriptions of these things to feel the coziest in the beginning of the story, when the speaker flashes back to when she was younger and her father was a tangible presence in her life. Shortly following his introduction we learn he, long before Gramma’s death, had also passed prematurely. His loss comes as an obvious shock to the whole family, but the effect it would have on the relationship between Gramma and the speaker’s mother was complicated. From the perspective of the young Marie though, Gramma was sturdy as a rock. A timeless symbol of “Be Proud of Who You Are.”
Gramma herself is far from perfect, but she is honest and caring. This is why she is so important to the speaker. It's what makes her loss so devastating. When visiting the Mason House, Marie wanted things to be as they once were when she was young, it was cozy and she was in her father's arms. And when taken into account that her father may not have been what she once understood, we learn that perhaps no matter how it was sliced, Gramma was the person the speaker related to the most, the one she felt the deepest connection with. The reader’s developing understanding of the relationship between Gramma and Marie makes the pages detailing Gramma’s funeral increasingly tragic. It's what makes the loss of Gramma so incomprehensible.
T. Marie Martineau’s enlightening understanding of loss is devastatingly honest, as honest as Gramma was. While sudden loss can leave a wound, sometimes a scar is a perfect reminder of how deeply you loved and were loved. If you can relate, and even if you can’t, The Mason House is an important read.
Not understanding what you have until you lose it is a bitter feeling. But losing something you’ve always recognized as important leaves a unique wound. The Mason House is a wonderfully vivid memoir painting the likeness of a young woman and her family dealing with that wound and doing their very best from allowing it to fester. And similarly to the many others who have and still must do the same, Marie and her family members struggle to adapt.
Loss is the key emotion of The Mason House and the author, T. Marie Martineau, makes us clearly understand her loss of her “Gramma,” the owner of The Mason House, by showing us who Gramma was through her own eyes. Martineau is great at presenting instantly recognizable people. And the picture she paints of Gramma is one of a genuine, if not often harsh, person with woods lady wisdom. A cool, sometimes enigmatic woman who is worth inheriting some personality from.
Grief over the death of a loved one is a particularly uncomplicated emotion to understand. There are never any ways to prepare or correct words to use when someone passes. The irony in that is, we all understand it to be not only natural and normal, but also impossible to escape. But no matter how much we see it coming or even understand its necessity, we disdain death, because we disdain loss. We fear the realization that someone will forever be missing. The execution of this thing will, for at least a moment, turn the most estranged frequenters of your local bar into an empty chair. A chair that your friend, or family may have sat in. A chair you may have sat in.
Martineau is equally adept at painting landscapes as well as portraits. Her descriptions of the woods of North Michigan and especially those of The Mason House itself are incredibly tangible. If you have ever spent a long amount of time in the wilderness or if you live near the woods you can find yourself in familiar territory. Her descriptions of the stars in the moonlit sky and crackling fires on cold nights mesmerized me.
The nature of the story being fixed on a loving grandmother in a house in the woods attaches a coziness which is often reflected in the writing itself. Even the framing of the speaker reminiscing upon memories of her Gramma at her funeral envelops the stories like a bundle of heavy blankets. Interestingly enough, I found the descriptions of these things to feel the coziest in the beginning of the story, when the speaker flashes back to when she was younger and her father was a tangible presence in her life. Shortly following his introduction we learn he, long before Gramma’s death, had also passed prematurely. His loss comes as an obvious shock to the whole family, but the effect it would have on the relationship between Gramma and the speaker’s mother was complicated. From the perspective of the young Marie though, Gramma was sturdy as a rock. A timeless symbol of “Be Proud of Who You Are.”
Gramma herself is far from perfect, but she is honest and caring. This is why she is so important to the speaker. It's what makes her loss so devastating. When visiting the Mason House, Marie wanted things to be as they once were when she was young, it was cozy and she was in her father's arms. And when taken into account that her father may not have been what she once understood, we learn that perhaps no matter how it was sliced, Gramma was the person the speaker related to the most, the one she felt the deepest connection with. The reader’s developing understanding of the relationship between Gramma and Marie makes the pages detailing Gramma’s funeral increasingly tragic. It's what makes the loss of Gramma so incomprehensible.
T. Marie Martineau’s enlightening understanding of loss is devastatingly honest, as honest as Gramma was. While sudden loss can leave a wound, sometimes a scar is a perfect reminder of how deeply you loved and were loved. If you can relate, and even if you can’t, The Mason House is an important read.
October 14, 2021
I heard T. Marie Bertineau read a selection from her book The Mason House, and I knew I wanted to read her book. I bought a copy, and it skipped to the top of my pile of books to be read. Bertineau weaves together family and place and culture and how all three of those elements can help a person navigate life's ups and downs. Bertineau's memoir is beautifully written, and the story arc pulled me in and kept me turning the pages. The themes in her story resonated with me. A memoir should increase our understanding of people around us and expand our world. And it should expand our understanding of ourselves. Bertineau's memoir does all three.
February 16, 2022
THE MASON HOUSE is T. Marie Bertineau's memoir, a compilation of memories. She grew up with her three sisters, a brother, and alcoholic parents in many different homes in many different school districts in a few different states. Their upbringing was unstable and obviously difficult.
I was under the misconception that Bertineau grew up in Michigan's Upper Peninsula (UP) because that's where the Mason house was. It was her grandmother’s home, where she spent part of her childhood, in Mason, Michigan. But no, only the first third of THE MASON HOUSE takes place in the UP, although Bertineau does continue to have ties to this area.
Maybe, then, THE MASON HOUSE really isn't the right title for this book. After all, 2/3 of it barely mentions the Mason house. My impression is that this book is about the instability of growing up with alcoholics.
I was under the misconception that Bertineau grew up in Michigan's Upper Peninsula (UP) because that's where the Mason house was. It was her grandmother’s home, where she spent part of her childhood, in Mason, Michigan. But no, only the first third of THE MASON HOUSE takes place in the UP, although Bertineau does continue to have ties to this area.
Maybe, then, THE MASON HOUSE really isn't the right title for this book. After all, 2/3 of it barely mentions the Mason house. My impression is that this book is about the instability of growing up with alcoholics.
January 30, 2022
Almost 4 stars.
Theresa's home is at her Grandmother's though that is not where she lives. It is the place where she feels safe especially after her father dies. Though Gram is quite unstable herself she fills a need in Theresa's life. Until she dies.
Her mother has had many tragedies in her life and deals with all of them through alcohol.
Theresa and her siblings live a very unstable life traveling all over the United States but always lured back to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan specifically the Keweenaw.
Theresa is one quarter Ojibwe, but lacks knowledge of her culture. As time goes on she is drawn to the spirit of her ancestors.
Theresa's home is at her Grandmother's though that is not where she lives. It is the place where she feels safe especially after her father dies. Though Gram is quite unstable herself she fills a need in Theresa's life. Until she dies.
Her mother has had many tragedies in her life and deals with all of them through alcohol.
Theresa and her siblings live a very unstable life traveling all over the United States but always lured back to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan specifically the Keweenaw.
Theresa is one quarter Ojibwe, but lacks knowledge of her culture. As time goes on she is drawn to the spirit of her ancestors.
August 28, 2023
This is a touching and empowering memoir. I admit, for at least the first 2/3 of the book, I wondered about the token nods to indigenous (Objiwe) culture because this first part sounded a lot like any other story about a family struggling with poverty and addiction in the 70s and 80s in the US. The last part of this book really pushes it to 5-stars. Bertineau does this amazing job of helping the reader walk in her shoes as she comes to rediscover her roots, and her journey feels real and not trite at all.
A very under-esteemed book that deserves much more attention than it has received. Read it!
A very under-esteemed book that deserves much more attention than it has received. Read it!
July 19, 2023
This was a really well-written memoir. Having recently visited the UP I really appreciated the lens the author gave me into life there. The author really puts her heart out there with this book in a beautiful way. Reading about her and her Gramma is very touching. Those grandparent bonds can be so strong.
May 26, 2024
A relatable memoir that transforms a family through focused reflection on a grandmother and growing up beyond her house in Mason, Michigan. It's a poignant story of engaging family shadows and reclaiming a lost cultural family history. The book is a bridge of understanding between Indigenous and European settler heritage. Well-written. Recommended for teaching College-level English II.
May 23, 2021
I love this book. I grew up in the UP and know all those places but it was the story of the authors life and relationships that brought tears. I am somewhat older then her , I was there when she was. This memoir has touched me in ways I can not express. Thank you.
August 3, 2021
Memoir of a young part Chippewa girl growing up in Upper Michigan, as well as other states (I live in Michigan, so that part is of special interest to me). Interesting book, especially how she feels about her Indian heritage, but no great revelations. Enjoyed the Michigan references.
May 30, 2023
Lately Upper Peninsula stories seem to be capturing my interest...and the people who's lives are directly affected by life there. The phrase "there but by the grace of God go I" often comes to mind, and children are the ones who see/hear/bear the scars of it all.
October 4, 2020
A beautiful memoir, big-hearted and affecting.
November 1, 2020
A stirring memoir
November 8, 2020
4.5 stars
A beautiful book.
A beautiful book.
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March 7, 2021Available now on our website. New, $18.
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October 17, 2021
My feelings of the read
I appreciated the authenticity of this recollection of life as a odijibe(sp). Will recommend this read to friends. Unlike my childhood
I appreciated the authenticity of this recollection of life as a odijibe(sp). Will recommend this read to friends. Unlike my childhood
November 2, 2021
Interesting first novel set in the UP. I learned a lot about the tough economic life growing up in the UP and also the blending of cultures.
January 8, 2022
A loving and honest story of growing up Native in the U.P.
February 15, 2022
This is a rich narrative that deals with growing up in a blended family from a Native American perspective. It is a lot to unpack and the author carries you through to an ending of redemption.
February 17, 2022
Docked a point for prose. But it's an honest, heartfelt book.
August 1, 2022
Couldn't finish -- too slow a read. Prefer fiction,
September 30, 2022
This book really spoke to me as I live in L’Anse so I am familiar with all the places in the Upper Peninsula she talks about. Beautiful memoir about the bond between grandmother and granddaughter.
August 6, 2023
Love love love. From one yooper to another, I felt every emotion and story deep inside me. You transported me into your memories and I will cherish this book for a lifetime 🤍
Displaying 1 - 30 of 32 reviews