This gripping and darkly funny memoir “is a testament to the undeniable, indestructible love between a mother and a daughter” (Isaac Mizrahi).
Liz Scheier’s mother was a news junkie, a hilarious storyteller, a fast-talking charmer you couldn’t look away from, a single mother whose devotion crossed the line into obsession, and―when in the grips of the mental illness that plagued her―a masterful liar. On an otherwise uneventful afternoon when Scheier was eighteen, her mother sauntered into the room and dropped two bombshells. First, that she had been married for most of the previous two decades to a man Liz had never heard of and, second, that the man she had claimed was Liz’s dead father was entirely fictional. She’d made him up―his name, the stories, everything.
Those big lies were the start, but not the end; it had taken dozens of smaller lies to support them, and by the time she was done she had built a fairy-tale, half-true life for the two of them. Judith Scheier’s charm was more than matched by her eccentricity, and Liz had always known there was something wrong in their home. After all, other mothers didn’t raise a child single-handedly with no visible source of income, or hide their children behind fake Social Security numbers, or host giant parties in a one-bedroom Manhattan apartment only to throw raging tantrums when the door closed behind the guests.
Now, decades later, armed with clues to her father’s identity―and as her mother’s worsening dementia reveals truths she never intended to share―Liz attempts to uncover the real answers to the mysteries underpinning her childhood. Trying to construct a “normal” life out of decidedly abnormal roots, she navigates her own circuitous path to a bizarre breakup, an unexpected romance, and the birth of her son and daughter. Along the way, Liz wrestles with questions of what we owe our parents even when they fail us, and of how to share her mother’s hilarity, limitless love, and creativity with children―without passing down the trauma of her mental illness. Never Simple is the story of enduring the legacy of a hard-to-love parent with compassion, humor, and, ultimately, self-preservation.
From a very early age Liz Scheier realized instinctively that her mother truly loved her, never missing a school event, field trip, class party, and was actively involved in the PTA. Judith Scheier wasn’t like other mothers: her exuberant happiness could shift suddenly and erupt in a boiling anger where Liz became the recipient of a terrifying attack of verbal or physical abuse. In this intense and courageous memoir, “Never Simple” (2022) Liz Scheier recalls an unconventional mother daughter relationship that was centered around Judith’s unpredictability from her drama, exaggerations, the untruths of fabrication, and the unending pain of confusion and deception related to mistrust.
The truth was that Judith Scheier could be just as sweetly charming as she was devious, often using her extensive legal knowledge to fool and intimidate others, claiming to have retired early from a profitable law practice. As a child, Liz yearned for any knowledge about her absent father, to see a picture of him, would this mysterious shadow father ever come to visit his loving and forgiving daughter? Judith simply refused to discuss him. Liz was raised in Orthodox Judaism, with Judith’s warnings to maintain distance from all Christians—according to her, Christians were mainly responsible for the Holocaust and the mass genocide that claimed the lives of their relatives. In young adulthood, her rabbi assisted Liz in obtaining a legal birth certificate and social security number that was a requirement on FAFSA forms to apply for college scholarships. Any papers of documentation Judith had was falsified. Liz eagerly awaited the day when she could “blast” like a cannonball from her mother’s house— and never return. After several years of emotional conflict and uncertainty, Liz’s domestic partner Laura abandoned their relationship. Liz, seemingly relieved, had no reservations or qualms about “switching teams” and quickly began dating Arie (a close friend since high school). Arie and Liz were married in a traditional Orthodox ceremony. Predictability, Judith, uninvited, dramatically crashed the wedding before the service. It was eventually necessary for Liz to hire a forensic genealogist which brought her clarity and a peace of mind as details emerged uncovering the story of her missing father and his family.
From a distance, Liz monitored Judith’s instability due to acute mental illness and decline that led to housing instability. Liz explained repeatedly to the social workers that emailed or called: “No, Judith could not live with her and her family or be anywhere near small children without close supervision.” As Liz monitored and advocated for her mother’s health and safety, Judith seemed to kick and scream every step of the way. This compassionate debut memoir illustrates the power of unconditional love that ultimately shaped and strengthened Liz's own life experiences related to spirituality, love, marriage, and motherhood. Liz Scheier, a former editor at Penguin Random House, lives with her husband (Arie) and their two small children In Washington D.C. ** With thanks to Henry Holt and Company via NetGalley for the DDC for the purpose of review. "Never Simple" will be published on March 1, 2022.
I didn’t know anything about this book when I started reading it. I loved the first chapter and the mystery of her father, and thought this would be a great read. Then it just got confusing on what the book was about. Being a lesbian? Donating her eggs? Marrying a man and having children? Then back to her mother. I kept asking myself, where is this story going? What is this book about? As an editor more should have been taken into consideration about the reader. I’m also confused by the fact she is a former Penguin Random House editor who worked in publishing and content development for many years, so how could this book become so disjointed?
After finishing this book, or should I say, skimming a lot, because sometimes there was just too much detail about what wasn’t important for the reader to know. the book is described as darkly funny. No, is my answer. Shades of Jeannette Walls’s The Glass Castle. Again, a strong NO!
it says: Never Simple is the story of learning to survive—and, finally, trying to save—a complicated parent, as feared as she is loved, and as self-destructive as she is adoring.
Um, well, I don’t think that’s what the book is about.
Nothing against the author as a person, but I just could not relate to this book, or get into it, hard as I tried.
A searing self-portrait of 40-odd years of living under the control of a mother with acute borderline personality disorder and a penchant for lying to everyone about everything: not the ideal upbringing for a sensitive girl keenly missing the absent father in her life or, at the least, a clear picture of who he was, and what circumstances took him away from her. A lifelong cultured Manhattanite with a law degree, good looks, and no lack of entranced male companions, Liz Scheier's mother Judith, chronically unemployed (but hiding it well) nonetheless led an unnaturally isolated and nomadic life with her daughter, often on the brink of homelessness and starvation, compounded for her little girl even more tragically by a cruel emotional starvation, as well, occasioned by her mother's fragile mental state. "Yes, she could be a monster," Liz reflects on Judith. "Yes, her rage and her violence were terrifying. But more than that, I had grown up in a house with no competent adults in it." A true survivor, Judith was as remarkable an improvisor as she was a prevaricator, until she, too, reached the end of her resources. At this same time, Ms. Scheier, now in a stable marriage and mothering two young children in Washington, D.C., was truly coming into her own, career-wise and serenity-wise, having at last cut the cord that had enmeshed her singlehandedly in the unending financial and emotional maelstrom of crises that was her mother's everyday life. Liz's brave dedication to discovering the truth about her birth father, good or bad, does not go unrewarded, either, but, at the same time, it opens old wounds and leads to a few more unanswered questions. No easy answers, but plenty of motivation to move on and move forward. Live long and prosper, Ms. Scheier!
This book reminded me of my childhood. Liz Scheier is such a great writer. I could feel the hurt between mother and daughter. I think all mothers and daughters have complex relationships, but this relationship was very hurtful and painful. Liz Scheier's mother took complication and made it into an art. As a child, Scheier took for granted that her mother's moods could be mercurial and her anger could be seismic. There was always the lingering question of who Scheier's father was, especially since her mother's stories about him seemed to vary. As Scheier works to uncover the truth, she discovers just how complicated her childhood was and how difficult her relationship with her mother will become. I was always afraid of how my mom would respond to me. She could be so sweet but go off the hinge in a single second. I grew up dealing with that throughout my youth and adult life. It still effects me to this day. I really enjoyed this book as it hit so close to home. I highly recommend this book. Very well written.
Unless a book is badly written, I rarely write reviews that are negative since reading is so subjective. In this case, I'll make an exception. This memoir is about growing up with a mentally ill parent, yet the author treats this as a topic to be written about with tongue-in-cheek-humor. She writes witty descriptions of her mother's temper and violence and tosses off flippant remarks about, well, about everything. Since Scheier is an insider to the publishing business, I am guessing she knew what publishers would grab onto. It seems as though no one fact-checked her story. There are anecdotes that are beyond belief. One is the narrative of the author's attempted suicide. She claims to have taken 400 pills of various sorts and her explanation of the aftermath defies belief. Another is the description of her mother's experience of not knowing she was pregnant because of the kind of birth control pills available in the 70s that stopped your period. Although there were pills you took for the entire month, one week of pills were placebos that kept women from confusing their calendars. While on the placebo, you would menstruate. A third example is her claim that her school knew she was living with a dangerous person and did nothing. There are laws that require school personnel to report suspicions of any sort of abuse. These may seem like petty examples, but these and many other factual errors left me unable to believe most of Scheier's story. This books falls in the domain of other similar books such as A Million Little Pieces which have kernels of truth, but are more fiction than fact. Scheier's mother was likely unstable and/or ill, but either Scheier herself has issues knowing what the truth is, or she consciously set out to stretch the facts in order to write an outrageous "memoir" that would end up on the best-seller list. People will read this book in order to learn about living with a mentally ill parent. Although the book is entertaining, there is nothing to be learned from reading it.
I have taken bites, chewed, swallowed, and digested more memoirs recently associated mental illness, chronic illnesses, and every type of human craziness, and human chaos from every cell, gland, and organ in my body recently…. that I laugh at how disproportionately balanced all these books - too close together they became…. It’s been MARCH MADNESS MONTH.
Perhaps I can get a March Memoir rebate— ….a partial refund from having over invested my time from narratives composed of so much personal experience?
I think I can honestly say I’ve gone above and beyond my call of duty in the memoir department.
This specific review is a ‘duo-combo’…of two such books read during the month of March…
It’s been….. Pills, depression, drugs, smoking, suicide, mental illness, grief, vomiting, neglect, abuse, missing persons, missing a beloved mentally unwell sister, abandonment, loss, death, sadness, parental nightmares, crappy marriages, loneliness, things hard to say, divorces, stigmatized schizophrenia, engagements, borderline personality disorders, broken hearts, every psychological and psychiatric disorder, chronic illnesses, religious beliefs, meditation, spiritual awakenings, hopelessness, healing, hoping, eggs donated, never getting to say goodbye, unresolved situations, death acceptance, death desire, cancer, hospital stays, being restrained while in a hospital bed, loneliness, no boyfriends, divorces, annoying children, annoying mothers, annoying families, accusatory feisty accusations sexual assault, rape, covid, financial struggles, widows, nice Jewish men, diagnosed hypochondriacs, smart mothers, not smart mothers, menstruation, racial injustice, political nightmares, war, fake Social Security numbers fake families, fake names, runaways, maternity leaves, unwanted pregnancies, abortions, an astonishing a number of miserable people, crimes, murder, therapy sessions, tall people, short people, people with every single color eyes and hair imaginable, tattoo people, panic attacks. girls who had been beaten by their parents, adolescence struggles, righteous people, secrets, retail, therapy music, art therapy, rage, filthy whores, filthy housekeeping, eating disorders, school drop outs, social punishments, rainbow colored boots, rebels, lies, moody pouty complex compelling human stories and god knows what else!
Each of the following books were interesting- heartfelt- honest in their own points of view and self expression— sometimes fascinating, sometimes exhaustingly enough….. but both books were real - have value….. who am I to say a persons memoir is anything less than their own extraordinary humanity….
The month of April is around the corner — March-Memoir-Madness-Month…. is coming to a climax… rumor has it…. ‘Once Upon a time’ stories and other genres are making a comeback!
Truth: ….. FINAL THOUGHTS…. “The Perfect Other”…. Audiobook….10 hours and 32 minutes read by the author Kyleigh Leddy is not without flaws, a little too long, …. but is written with sincerity, passion, and love….
“Never Simple”, written by Liz Scheier Audiobook narrated Amy Landon …..8 hours and 27 minutes was heartbreaking and hilarious ….. written well….honest and compassionate.
Everyone has a story and, as a therapist, I find most people’s stories fascinating—particularly the details of how they got to be who they are today. However, despite the infinite power of stories, memoirs are a special art form. Their successful craft seems to rest on the writer’s selection of which life events cohere into a narrative; their insight into their life experiences; their capacity to use language to convey and reflect on those experiences; and the ways in which all of that taken together can connect with a reader.
Never Simple contains an interesting story, but the narrative focus rarely seemed to go where I hoped it would, with very little space devoted to the author’s younger years and a significant portion focused on her life outside of her relationship with her mother. I never connected to the author’s voice, and while there are insights presented, they seem half-formed. (In this regard, the book suffered from comparison to “Crying in H Mart,” which I read right before it.) I couldn’t help but think that this memoir would be better if written 10 years from now.
The language at times falls back on cliché, with the author relying on common phrases (e.g., “What the hell?”) instead of more acutely pinpointing her emotional experience. In that regard, the rather pedestrian book title is a litmus test: Does it draw you in or make you hesitate? There are many 5-Star reviews here, so clearly this book has connected with a lot of people. Unfortunately, I just wasn’t one of them.
Wasn’t as impressed as I hoped to be. @jakehigdon you can skip this one! As odd as it sounds I was hoping to follow along more with the erratic nature of someone with borderline and less about the life of the daughter. Seems an uneven balance of the daughters life in general vs the daughters experience with a mentally ill mother. Didn’t land well for me
Though Scheier was dissatisfied with the life her mom provided her, she has remarkably little to say about what her mom would have needed (less trauma in her own upbringing, a loving spouse and co-parent, a COMPETENT therapist, a society that recognizes and values Mad parents, etc.) in order to give her more. For that reason, Scheier is a totally unreliable narrator, whose sole purpose of writing this book was to whine about her victimized and underprivileged mom.
For the well-being of Scheier’s children, I hope Scheier’s real-space priorities are more productive and realistic.
I could feel the guilt and the plead for absolution oozing out of each page. Or, I was projecting my own guilty conscience. To explain, this book was a memoir about the author's life with a mother who had borderline personality disorder. As an adult the author rightly created boundaries between her mom and the author's own budding family. These boundaries are where I felt the guilt. In creating distance between herself and her mom the author stood by as her mother was given up to the system; at one point homeless. Although it was never explicitly said on the page, I got the feeling the author was trying to show why she was absolved from taking in her mother. Of course the author had all rights to leave her mother out of her life. However, I think I needed more examples of just how awful her mom was. I'm not saying I don't believe her; I'm saying the story lacked the details SHOWING how terrible her mom was. Most of the action happened during the last third of the book. This being the other reason I didn't fully connect. There was too much weight put on the search for the author's father which was represented as one of many stories her mom lied about. However, there were no other lies. Does it make me a terrible person to wish this book contained more examples of just what a monster Liz Scheier was?
Thank you to NetGalley and Henry Holt & Company for the chance to appreciate this memoir and provide a review here. This review will be shared on instagram (pageus_of_books, twitter, my website (dont-stop-reading.com) and copied to goodreads, amazon, and B&N. I have listed this book as one to preorder as well on my bookshop.org affiliate page.
I cherished the elegant, powerful examination of her mother and her childhood that Liz Scheier offers readers in Never Simple. A memoir is appreciated for the bravery of examining a life, memories, and relationships and Ms. Scheier's examination of her mother's self destructive behaviors, her deceptions, and how these behaviors impacted Ms. Scheier as she had to learn about, process, and then examine the lies she had been told, is powerful and effective. The blend of compassion with pain is noticeable and I think is a testament to Ms. Scheier's willingness to trust herself to express herself openly and then to trust readers to understand how she can have such layered and complex feelings, even of compassion, towards her mother, who clearly did have some significant mental health struggles. The writing offers just enough emotional distance at times, in a good way, to allow readers to develop their own thoughts on Ms. Scheier's mother and the memories and experiences shared, making it easier for the reader to lean into the narrative without being overwhelmed by intensity. The book is reminiscent to me of Educated and The Glass Castle in terms of themes on parental mental health/controlling behaviors, complicated childhood experiences, and themes on children coming to realize that their parents are flawed.
There are so many important and well developed themes in this memoir that it truly is worth a close read and a discussion within book clubs and shared book chats. Space should be generated for this book when it is published as it does highlight how we need to examine the impact that mental health has on individuals and the repercussions of individual behaviors on others. I look forward to encouraging non fiction readers and book clubs to consider this book when it is published. I recommend this book for fans of those memories and who seek out memoirs of complicated family relationships, mental health, and resilience.
I thank the publisher for seeing the importance of this memoir and recognizing that this book will resonate with many readers in valuable ways; I was moved by this memoir and thank Ms. Scheier for being open with her writing and experiences. I appreciated the chance to reflect on this book as I compiled notes for this review.
Liz and her mother, Judith, lived in a 3 bedroom 3 bath apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, half a block from Central Park. But let me stop you right there before you start imagining some fancy, entitled existence. This was closer to the neighborhoods of Morningside Heights or Yorkville than to where Charlotte lived on Sex and the City. It still could have been very nice for some people. But they were not Some People.
Judith was abusive. She was very emotionally and verbally abusive but she also hit Liz who would sometimes hide from her in the back of closets. Her mother took her bedroom door off the hinges to try to prevent Liz’s escape from from wrath. And anything could and would set her off. Wildly unpredictable (except if a stranger or service person used her first name! That was the kiss of death with Mrs. Scheier!), she made Liz’s life pretty hellish. And she was it. She was a single mom. Liz had no siblings to band together with and no second parent to ally with.
When Liz asked about her father, her mother told her about him. Or… well… as Liz later discovered, her mother told her a bunch of lies. At first not even the name was right. And Liz didn’t have a birth certificate (!!!) so it was hard to double-check things. But that was the biggest life lesson she learned from her mother over the years–corroborate everything. She tried to do some research on her own but until the internet, that was pretty futile. As an adult, she eventually hired a forensic genealogist and did learn a lot. But before that, she was in a couple of terrible relationships that she didn’t recognize as terrible (perhaps because she’d had no role models?) She did marry a wonderful guy in the end, who even understood truly everything with her mother.
Judith eventually tells Liz she was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, which does seem to fit, although Liz is understandably skeptical of everything her mother tells her. Even after Liz is married and living in DC, her mother continues to be a daily if not hourly thorn in her side, as she stops paying her rent and develops some dementia and refuses all offers of any kind of assistance except exactly what she wants. When Liz starts to be pulled down with her in eviction proceedings, she finally fights back.
So this is a story of a hellish family. It’s not a big family, but it’s a family of lies, abuse, and more lies. Come for the schadenfreude. Stay for the horrific spectacle. Liz luckily is a fantastic writer who is now wedded to the truth more than anything, making this a riveting and harrowing memoir.
4.5 stars. I won an advanced reader’s copy of this book through Goodreads Giveaways. I have a feeling this book will become a best seller. It was well-written and the story itself was emotional and interesting, to say the least. The author had an incredibly turbulent relationship with her mother and describes how her mother’s bizarre behaviors impacted her life from childhood through adulthood, including her friendships, romantic partners, and the journey to becoming a mother herself. This memoir makes readers contemplate how abusive and/or mentally ill family members can be feared and despised yet also simultaneously loved and appreciated. I think readers who enjoyed Educated and/or The Glass Castle will also enjoy this book.
I literally couldn't put this book down. I have a lot in common with the author, she grew up on the upper east side and I grew up on the upper west side. We both went to prep schools on scholarships. We both had crazy mothers. But I have to admit that her mother was crazier, and wouldn't hide her crazy whereas my mother hid hers and showed only her ugliest side to my father, my sister and myself. The story is so crazy that you might question it even all happened. I think the saying "you can't make this shit up." applies here.
I can't for the life of me figure out why this book has gotten any attention. The story, while compelling, doesn't know what it is and is ALL OVER THE PLACE. I, apparently along with many other reviewers, found some of the facts questionable, the narrator unreliable, and this is compounded by the fact that the author worked in publishing for years. She has so little compassion for her mother and lacks the essential quality of SELF AWARENESS one might expect from the author of a memoir. Maybe the author is more likable in person...?
I am a sucker for autobiographies and memoirs. How DO Other People make their decisions? How have they been influenced? Do they succeed because of or in spite of their families of origin?
Liz Scheier makes the answer clear: BOTH. Because of AND in spite of. It's a balancing act, and Liz Scheier deftly leads us through the conundrums and difficulties and brick walls that she encounters growing up with a mother who is a social climber AND mentally ill.
Loves her, dotes on her, absolutely. But Judith, Liz's mother, loves the ROLE of MOTHER, of SINGLE MOTHER more than she understands how to carry it out to her daughter's advantage.
One of the unresolved conundrums through the memoir is HOW Judith manages to maintain a 3 bedroom apartment in Manhattan with no job. What is the source of her income? Why is she so uber-protective of her daughter? I really hesitate to say more, because the intrigue of the text is not only what and how she (Judith, the mother) does anything, but also how Liz manages to maintain her own self, to separate from her mother while also giving her (J) the emotional support she demands.... I don't want to give anything away so I'll leave it at that.
Liz Scheier's growing up was so utterly different to mine (2 parents, 4 sibs, stability) that I had no choice but to engage completely with the text. It carried me all through the day. I expect I'll be ruminating about it for quite a while.
The closing is so tender and .... An impressive text. I look forward to more from Liz Scheier
Disclosure: I want to the same college Scheier did. It was all I could do to graduate and I had a large and completely supportive family.
The beginning, middle, and end of a relationship with a toxic parent.
This memoir was just OK for me. Scheier documents her growing awareness of her mother's mental illness, then her constant negotiation between her longing to have a mother and her realization that her mother is toxic, abusive, narcissistic, and too mentally unwell to parent anyone. It held my interest at times, but at others the pace was slow--mostly Scheier's long reflections on her mother's life/their relationship, or a list of the various negative interactions/issues they had. The beginning was most interesting, because it is more like a family mystery, with Scheier investigating the lies her mother told her, and finding out the truth about her family. After that was revealed, however, I found myself getting increasingly bored, as the rest of the book is basically documenting her mother's mental and physical decline. I found myself frustrated, thinking that I would never have put up with that crap, from anyone, but at least Scheier acknowledges the complexity of her relationship with her mother (delineating the various reasons why she couldn't just cut her mother out of her life completely). Still, something bothered me about the narrative voice, like she was trying too hard to situate herself as the "good" one, the long-suffering daughter, in contrast to her mother's "chaos."
Like others have said, it is *odd* reading a memoir by someone you know, and this is a wholly biased review on that front.
However. I have known Liz for only a short time, since she became a mother herself, with the briefest of glimpses into the complex journey that brought her there. Her singular voice rings thru this book - the clever friend you want at your side in a boring lecture, whispering sharp asides while you bite your cheek to keep from snorting with laughter.
But that voice also tackles life’s pain with elegant, spare sentences that take your breath away. The story she shares, of her bravery at unraveling the fictions of her upbringing and her strength and compassion confronting the facts of her mother’s final years, can offer all of us an example of how to integrate the lessons and legacies of our families of origin into our chosen families.
A significant portion of Never Simple revolves around Liz Scheier's missing father and her efforts to discover his identity and, in the process, unlock her past. As it happens, he and I were classmates and close friends. I met Liz as she was tracking down the details of his life. I read the book expecting that once she untangled the mystery of her father, it would be anticlimactic for me. Far from it: leaving aside the twists and turns of her almost Dickensian story, Never Simple is worth reading for the sheer pleasure of her writing. It's witty, energetic and touching. Scheier's honesty makes this a tale that works on two levels: it's the sometimes tragic, sometimes triumphant narrative of a daughter's struggle with a deeply disturbed mother, and it's also a bigger story of how truth survives and even flourishes in a hostile family environment. I'm looking forward to her next book!
For me, memoirs are never pageturners, however, this book is an exception. I often found myself reading well past my bedtime after repeatedly telling myself, “just one more page.” It’s an extraordinary story, told with brutal honesty and witticism, in a way that makes you feel like the author is sharing the story with you at a casual get-together.
This is the first memoir I've read written by _someone I know_. As a result it was entirely surreal and I am in no way an unbiased reviewer. In fact, I was privy to many of the details in the final years of Liz's mom's life, plus the big breakup Liz experienced, as they happened. Liz is a masterful writer. It was also fun to identify the people I know in the story (like Claire!).
I was blown away by this book. It's an inside look at the intense, destructive relationship between a daughter and her mother, and how the relationship shaped the daughter's life. I stayed up way past my bedtime to finish it, and I think you might, too.
Ernest Hemingway said, “Write hard and clear about what hurts.” In Liz Scheier’s book Never Simple, she does just that. She writes hard, clear, and honest about her relationship with her mother, one strained in the good times and irreparably torn in the worst. She had me hooked on the second page with this line: “No one lies like family.” Liz writes with such wit that, at times, I found myself stifling a laugh. But this is a memoir, Liz’s truth written in a brutally raw form. It’s the story of a mother suffering with borderline personality disorder and the daughter who struggles to manage both of their lives. She tried to get professional help, but it was never that simple. And ‘never simple’ is how she describes the impact of her mother’s bizarre behaviors on her own life from childhood through adulthood. The chaos only ceased when, two weeks shy of 80, Judith Scheier died. May her memory be for a blessing.
Certainly no family is perfect. When the last page is turned, readers may be grateful for the knots in their family trees. For others, it may send them on a search for medical diagnoses within their own bloodline. I applaud the author for her honesty and vulnerability. What a book!
Thanks to NetGalley and Henry Hall and Company for the ARC.
This book will leave you either grateful for the oddest of family quirks or prepared to tell your own tale of woe and hopefully redemption. Scheier’s asides will keep you smiling even as she reveals the broken heart of a child yearning for what normal might be - how parents are supposed to love and care for their children and let them fledge, rather than stifle, control and unknowingly abandon. I loved this book and the humor and vulnerability the author shares will make you love her.
The way Scheier moves through time, from high school to childhood, to references to the present and back all telling the wholeness of a story full of holes will make you keep reading.
For me this book sometimes verged on trauma porn. While the author has all the reason for resenting her mother, fearing her, pitying her, and for finding relief in her passing (as well as loving her with all these complications), I didn't feel she treated her mother's story with enough empathy or respect. I didn't feel she balanced blame for her mother being monstrous and abusive with blame for the trauma and illness that caused so much of her behaviour. I felt many times that the author was using her mother's story to scandalize and entertain the reader. Perhaps the dark humour came at the wrong time and seemed to be making fun of her mother.
This book could have been edited more. It was much too long for the story. There was a lot of repetition- what her mother did to her, her feelings about what her mother did to her and her guilt or feelings about her feelings about what her mother did to her. There was too much extraneous detail about the author her social life and sexuality. My heart went out to her; having a mom with mental illness and no one to advocate or help her is terrible. I respect and admire the author for seemingly being able to become a responsible adult, parent and spouse; but it doesn’t mean she has the skill to write a book about it.