5 comments about The Growing Seasons: An American Boyhood Before the War.

1. I was hooked from line one of this book. Hynes' simple and direct style of writing quickly whisks you back 70-plus years and tells you -shows you - how it was. And it wasn't easy for Sam Hynes either, orphaned at an early age and moving from place to place, being farmed out and coping with a step-mother. But in spite of all this, you also get a sense of the fun of being a boy in the midwest during the depression. Kids don't always know when they're poor; they're too busy learning and experiencing things and trying to get the most out of every day. The sequel to The Growing Seasons is equally good: Flights of Passage. I wish Sam would continue his personal story and tell us what happened after he came home from the war. I do know from talking with him that he was back in the Marines during Korea. There's gotta be another great story in there somewhere. If you're from the midwest and love good storytelling, read this book. Hell, you don't have to be midwestern. It's just darn good writing. - Tim Bazzett, author of Soldier Boy: At Play in the ASA



2. First of all, this is a very enjoyable book. I wanted to read this because my Father grew up in the Midwest during this time frame in a similar city. While he did grow up under very different financial circumstances, I was interested in exploring the every day experiences that a young boy would live through.
   The book is excellently written and vividly tracks a boys life in a world few can ever understand if you did not live during the Depression Era of the '30's. This being said, the book left me with many questions.
   
   His brother Chuck is hardly mentioned at all. Why? Dr. Hynes does not really go into how well, or badly he did at school. That would have been interesting. What happend to the boy that ran the girl over with his car. His friends were not the kind of kids I would want my children hanging around with. It is amazing he did not do some time in reform school. I also would have liked to have known at the end, what happened to his Father and Stepmother as well as his Stepsisters.
   
   Anyway, it was fun to read and I surely learned more about this time than I ever did in History classes.
   
   I hope that you will enjoy it.



3. The now storied "Greatest Generation" did not come full-blown into glory. It evolved from childhood, and Samuel Hynes' gentle, understated and illuminating memoir, "The Growing Seasons," assists in our understanding of how the generation that fought and won World War II came to be. Fiercely independent, perpetually inquisitive and unabashedly self-conscious, Samuel Hynes comes of age in America's heartland during the Great Depression. His story, crafted with gentle humor and exquisite detail, gains transcendence and slowly emerges as a representation of millions of youngsters grappling with the age-old obligation of developing an identity, but doing so in an era of frayed innocence and material dispossession.

   Loss and impermanence permeate Hynes' childhood. His father stoically accepts the death of his wife, unemployment as a result of a contracting economy and his own inability to serve the nation he so deeply loves. This unspoken patriotism and sense of place nurture the young Hynes, who never overcomes the gaping wound of losing his mother to a premature death. Motherloss uproots the Hynes' family; the father swallows prejudice and remarries a Catholic and Samuel begins the process of healing and carrying on with life.

   While his father settles into his second family, Hynes spends a summer on a farm. The city boy discovers new cadences to life, a different pattern to work. Most importantly, Samuel gains a sense of his own past. "For one season I had been one, like my father...and all those other country people in our family." With solemn pride, Hynes announces, "I had been my ancestors." With this knowledge of self, Hynes is better able to comprehend the modernizing influences besetting his altered family in Minneapolis during the 1930s.

   There, he observes his father's deep ambivalence over labor violence. A Shell oil salesman, the father is a rock-ribbed Republican who extols the virtue of independence and responsibility. Yet, the father "despised the upper-class ways" of the elite. Samuel watches his father's despair increase. "Whoever won this war, something he believed in would lose. It was sad, losing like that, and I felt his sadness."

   Tempering Samuel's growing awareness of the world is his evolving relationship with his step-mother. Hynes respects, admires and even likes her -- her purposeful energy, her zeal for order, her enthusiasm for life and work -- but never loves her. Even his thirteen-year-old autobiography excludes mention of her, and when his father coerces Samuel to include her, Samuel does so with a "chilled heart." Frugal and despeate to keep her family afloat, his step-mother sells a forgotten but cherished model train set. Awash in the economic misery of the Great Depression, where even wanting something unneeded is considered unworthy, the sale reminds the still-growing Samuel of the transitory nature of life, that "anything could be taken."

   Yet, "The Growing Seasons" is far from grim. Warmth abounds in the memoir, ranging from an excused absence from school due to a housekeeper's inability to close her mouth to the supreme satisfaction to Hynes' deep satisfaction at being able to finally don long pants to school instead of the dreaded knickers. The evolution to adulthood, the absoption of what it means to be a man, the quiet knowledge of the necessity of standing alone -- these benchmarks of maturation -- bespeak a person truly in touch with his own personality and his own potential.

   As Hynes becomes a man, with his attendant alienation from public school and his fascination with sex, he carries with him the formative experiences of childhood. Chafing at his relative youth, longing to experience the formative fires of war, Hynes' restlessness symbolizes an American energy, a robust transformative power that rings true in this instructive and engaging memoir.




4. One of the keys to this charming book is how many BAD things Sam and his friends do, that prove to be so interesting to read about! His style is understated, self-effacing. Flat, almost, but in a good way, all the cards on the table. I spent four years in Iowa and at the time someone told me that the adjective for Midwesterners wasn't "innocent" or anything like that, but "uncomplicated." You're used to seeing everything around you, all the way to the horizon. So maybe you lack a layer of artifice.

   I'll illustrate. His mother dies when Sam is a young boy, and his father (a stern but wonderfully forgiving fellow) remarries. Sam never figures out what to call his stepmother, so he avoids the issue completely. Permanently! This is remarkable. My wife had the same problem vis-à-vis my parents. It was kind of comical and kind of embarrassing on all fronts, but she figured it out a few days into our first extended visit with them. Sam never manages, yet seems to think nothing of it. Apart from remarking on the fact, he just goes on with things. Some readers may find this lack of navel-gazing a flaw, but I kind of liked it. It's more neutral, one might say scientific, and draws you in to the story. You can interpret things for yourself. He may answer that question of mine in his other books, or he may not, but with his winning style I know it will be fine reading right through it and around it.

   Another example comes near the end, pages 241-242, springtime of Sam's senior year in high school, World War Two looming, when he ponders the nature of women, and convertible automobiles, and describes how a guy a year or two older reveals to him and his friends an important secret about women, and sex. I read this long passage to my wife, and Hynes's wonderful deadpan style had us convulsing in laughter.

   Hynes is my parents' generation (and J.D. Salinger's), so I read it through that prism. My father and I grew up in suburban New York, my mother in El Paso (but I think maybe this is a guys' book), whereas Hynes is from Minneapolis (with a memorable summer on a farm). But it all connects. The eternal summertime of youth.




5. This is a prequel to the author's great war memoir, Flights of Passage, which I read with much appreciation 23 May 2001. If you have not read that book, by all means read this one first, then read it. This book is an account of a not extraordinary boyhood, but it is told in a poignant, if a bit mocking, way. When I finished it, I found myself much impressed by the way he told the story. It maybe helped that Hynes is only a few years older than I am, and that his account of a single summer doing farm work in Minnesota was filled with things I remember from my youth on an Iowa farm. It was another world and a time now irretrievably past, and I think this is an elegantly told growing up story I enjoyed as much as I did Russell Baker's memorable classic (Growing Up, read 11 Apr 1986) and Jimmy Carter's An Hour Before Daylight (read 11 Mar 2001).

5 comments about Soldier: A Poet's Childhood.

1. I don't read autobiographies because they're usually self-serving. I wait until someone with distance does justice to a life.

   Soldier, though, is the exception to my rule. June Jordan is able to look back over what seems a chaotic and sometimes cold, cruel childhood, and put it into the context of her life.

   The style is many times lyrical and poetic. The words draw you in and keep you reading. The story works back and forth between what's actually happening to June, the child, and what she's thinking about as it unfolds. It's quite different from most autobiographies.

   While I understand her father's quest to make sure his child is never a victim, his methods seem too brutal for words. It was a different time, and reality for an African-American is different, too, but reading about it is grueling.

   I did have a problem with the fact that June's memories seem much too clear. I may be missing the point, but I don't know anyone who can remember her childhood with such clarity and from the age of six months. Perhaps this is literacy license. If so, fine. The problem, then, is mine.

   No matter, this book is a fabulous read. I whipped through it in two hours.




2. June Jordan, African American Studies professor at UC Berkeley, has written a moving testament to her chaotic, challenging, and bittersweet childhood. This memoir written in a poetic manner is reminiscent of Sandra Cisneros' "House on Mango Street". The daughter of West Indian immigrants who revered education and hard work, she endured almost daily verbal assaults on her gender and physical abuse from her father. He was on one hand a supporter of Marcus Garvey and on the other hand felt the need to put down the American black at every turn. Her mother was a submissive, silent woman who realized that her daughter was her husband's son. Jordan's memories of the people who made an impact on her life and character, her Nanny, her Uncle Teddy, her camp friend, Jodi along with tales of childhood death-defying accidents, academic excellence, and first crushes are just bits and parts that serve to make this memoir a compelling read.



3. Sure to be a classic. A wonderfully charming and moving series of memories, observations, and poetic passages about a childhood at turns sweet, innocent, and difficult. Sometimes children make the most clear-eyed and wise observers, and it is the rare adult, such as June Jordan, who can recapture and communicate the experience of childhood in both its wonder and bewilderment. Although the elements of Jordan's childhood are specific - 19302/1940s, brusque, occaisionally-violent immigrant father, Harlem and Brooklyn neighborhoods, racial and social inequity - the themes are universal. Wonderful!



4. Over the past 40 years civil rights has come a long way and progress has been made in areas that makes life easier. But imagine if you had to struggle with poor education, terrible living conditions, and even segregation. Now imagine trying to get ahead in a world and society that was making all this an impossible task.

   June Jordan takes you on a twelve year journey through the eyes of one person who life was given these circumstances and somehow managed to succeed and become one of the most successful people, her own. June Jordan tells a story through words and poems that has you stopping and thinking throughout the entire 260 pages.

   The book is one of the first I have read that makes a clear representation of how a child caught up in turmoil can block out what they see and find something good in the life they have been given. Jordan's ability to capture the reader makes this book one of the most impressive I have read so far this year.

   After reading this book and seeing how the tough and often overbearing father along with the serine and religious mother were at odds, I gained a deeper understating of how difficult it must have been for any African American to try to make and succeed in the white man's world.

   Jordan has written several other books and has won a number of prestigious awards over the years. I found this book enjoyable and easy to read. Take time out and follow through the 12 years with a child who I found dealt with the same things I did as a child, only Jordan had them magnified. An excellent book!




5. June Jordan is not a victim. She shows us that difficult childhoods aren't as straightfoward as that. Her violent father may have taught her to solve problems with violence, but he also taught her to be observant. The best part of this book is that we hear the words and see places that influenced Jordan's writing style: her father, her Uncle Teddy, New York of the 30's and 40's.

1 comments about Pulling Down the Barn: Memories of a Rural Childhood (Great Lakes Books).

1. 
   Anne-Marie Oomen takes you to a place to be, to be yourself, to be with a world that is endangered, to be where love for what is given us is real and deserved. There is nothing shallow or sappy here; this is the real thing written by the hushed and precise sensibility of a artist/master artisan.
   
   Jack Ridl

3 comments about Tryin' To Get To You: The Story of Elvis Presley.

1. Renaissance came at the end of 1968. Elvis did a Comeback Special for television. He sat in the round with friends and performed the early hits. At the show's end, he appeared in a white suit and sang If I Can Dream. It was his first relevant song in awhile. It fit the rough period of the late 1960s with its Vietnam War, Civil Rights and Counter Culture. Elvis came off as a preacher with a message in this third and final incarnation. Suspicious Minds was his first number in 7 years. He played the International Hotel in Las Vegas, gave up movies and went back to the road. He donned jump suits and bell bottoms. Legendary guitarist James Burton joined his band. Burning Love went to number 2. Then, things began to slide. Divorce was a factor. Elvis was fooling around, and Priscilla left with her karate instructor. Aloha from Hawaii in 1973 was the last big hurrah. Elvis had a special relationship with Hawaii, and his passion was evident. American Trilogy reeks with pathos.



2. I read this book when I was in 7th grade, which was.... oh, let's see... I'm 30 now... so that means I read this book approximately seven billion years ago. Or so it seems. Anyway, I also wrote a report on this book for English class. The book was okay, but to this day I remember one glaring error: the author named Elvis' first post-army film "G.I. Joe." Of course, that title should be "G.I. Blues." Hopefully that error has been corrected in this new edition.



3. In the fall of 1954 I was 14 and living in the very small town Stamford, Texas, where Elvis came to sing, accompanied by Scotty and Bill. Elvis had just recorded "That's All Right, Mama" and Sun Records would produce four more in quick succession, as Elvis toured around in his pink Cadillac. The night he appeared in our high school auditorium (tickets $.25), he wore ivory shirt, slacks and shoes. I had never been to a "concert" before but I was totally crazy about him from the start. A couple of my friends and I rushed backstage and got his autograph. We stayed up late that night gushing about his music, smile, and unusual Adonis-like appearance. In the early morning we heard where the guys were eating breakfast, and we rushed over. He invited us to join them.

   As Elvis toured Texas that year, we went too and always were invited backstage. I got to know what Elvis was like then and was even kissed by him. In between stops we had energy to burn and the local disc jockey (wisely) suggested we start a fan club. Elvis gave us photos, signed cards, and read letters that came to me.

   This book was first published after Elvis' death and is now restored to print by a special program of the Authors Guild. That's me in the cover photo standing to Elvis' right.

5 comments about Slackjaw.

1. This memoir is funny,clever and engaging. Knipfel is an interesting guy to say the least. If "Slackjaw" hadn't come highly recomended to me, there's no way I would have read a book about a mentally-ill, guy who tried to kill himself several times before going blind. However, since I did, it was rewarding, humorous, proud and never depressing.



2. The book is most interesting. Knipfel knows how to tell a story; he tells in a sarcastic way the story of his life. Very important book for rehabilitation teachers for the blind and social workers.



3. Jim Knipfel is an idiot, truly. He's the type of person that delivers stories on characters like Werner Herzog and Ed Gein, very self-aggrandising, and, most significant to his idiot status, fails to understand anything at all. Want to be like Jim Knipfel? Quickly read a story in the newspaper, spend the next ten years watching The Nanny, then write a story based on what you read in the newspaper, and then assume the role of expert on the whole thing.



4. I like this book. I like Jim Knipfel's writing in general. He's quite good, and seems to be a naturally gifted author who's learned the ropes from his years as a columnist. In a strange sort of way, I consider him to be yet another link in the line of writers first described in the 1950s as the Beats. He measures up to many of those great truthsayers, and I always look forward to more work from Mr. Knipfel.

   Long may he linger.




5. Slackjaw is an entertaining memoir about the author's past. Jim writes with raw honesty and the book has a contagious personal quality that makes it hard to stop reading. Even though people may go through different hardships than the author, he writes in a way in which all people can relate. Through all the hard times, Jim takes the time to look at the ironic, hilarious details that make life, life.
   This book is highly recommended...

5 comments about Josephine: A Life of the Empress.

1. Josephine (1763-1814) was born Rose Tascher on the French colonial island of Dominique. Her father raised her on a failing sugar plantation she wed a disssolute French aristocrat (who wa
   executed during the Reign of Terror in the French Revolution)
   and had two children by him: Hortense and Eugene.
   Josephine met the young Corsican Napoleon and wed him. Napoleon knew she had connections in the government and married her for politcal reasons as well as to satisfy his lustful longings for the fetching Creole.
   Josephine was five feet tall, had rotting teeth and was unfaithful to Napoleon (as he was as well!). She could not produce a male heir and the Emperor divorced her to marry Marie Louise of Austria.
   Her life was one of glamour, love, rejection by her husband and dissolute living. Josephine was no saint but she was known
   for her loving kindness.
   Erickson has written a good biography of Josephine which introduces the reader to a fascinating woman living in amazing times.



2. This is a very well written book, and the author keeps the reader captivated as she tells the life story of Josephine, better known as Napoleon's first wife.
   
   For avid history buffs of the Napoleonic era, this book will offer scant new insights. If, however, you are only beginning to learn about the movers and shakers in imperial France, this may be a good jumping off point for you. Bear in mind that everyone is a secondary player to Josephine, so every one presented is colored by how they interacted with her-- and the author's mostly sympathetic portrayal of the woman.
   
   Josephine is not presented as a saint by anymeans in this book. She is, however, given a back story that allows us to have a greater understanding at how she could be both kind and charming while attempting to amass a fortune as a war profiteer.
   
   Ultimately this book is like cotton candy. Sweet and charming but leaving the reader wanting for more. I find that to be a good thing in this case, I'll be reading more about Josephine and her contemporaries in an attempt to gain an even larger understanding of her and the times she lived in.



3. This was my first read of Carolly Erickson, and I was enthralled by her writing style. Yes, the book reads like a novel, but I don't find this detrimental. One of the biggest problems with historical biographies are they are often heavy and dull, and I don't think this should be the case when describing extraordinary times and events. I felt like I was transplanted "into the period;" and while Josephine had qualities pro and con, I found her to be accessible and human. A lot of times with biographies, I ended hating the subject by the time I am done, because the author relishes revealing the subject's tarnished persona in such an unflattering light. Ms. Erickson's Josephine I liked, despite her evident flaws.

   My only complaint would be overindulgence in trivial detail, e.g., her "rotten teeth" and "fading beauty." No one really likes aging, do they?




4. This was my first read of Carolly Erickson, and I was enthralled by her writing style. Yes, the book reads like a novel, but I don't find this detrimental. One of the biggest problems with historical biographies are they are often heavy and dull, and I don't think this should be the case when describing extraordinary times and events. I felt like I was transplanted "into the period;" and while Josephine had qualities pro and con, I found her to be accessible and human. A lot of times with biographies, I ended hating the subject by the time I am done, because the author relishes revealing the subject's tarnished persona in such an unflattering light. Ms. Erickson's Josephine I liked, despite her evident flaws.

   My only complaint would be overindulgence in trivial detail, e.g., her "rotten teeth" and "fading beauty." No one really likes aging, do they?




5. This was my first read of Carolly Erickson, and I was enthralled by her writing style. Yes, the book reads like a novel, but I don't find this detrimental. One of the biggest problems with historical biographies are they are often heavy and dull, and I don't think this should be the case when describing extraordinary times and events. I felt like I was transplanted "into the period;" and while Josephine had qualities pro and con, I found her to be accessible and human. A lot of times with biographies, I ended hating the subject by the time I am done, because the author relishes revealing the subject's tarnished persona in such an unflattering light. Ms. Erickson's Josephine I liked, despite her evident flaws.

   My only complaint would be overindulgence in trivial detail, e.g., her "rotten teeth" and "fading beauty." No one really likes aging, do they?

5 comments about The Stones Applaud: How Cystic Fibrosis Shaped My Childhood.

1. I really enjoyed this book, and read it in 2 sittings. The author was a courageous young woman and I'm amazed what she accomplished in such a short life. It is written in a pleasant conversational way that I felt like I knew her a bit when I finished.
   
   The one thing I wish it had was a more in depth study of the authors family (Theresa also had a sister who had CF, and died a few years after she did). Her family went on to have a few more children (were her parents aware of the risk?) after her and her sister were diagnosed. I was also curious to how it affected them emotionally, I wish maybe her parents could have touched on this a bit more, just because it was so interesting I would have loved to know more, particularly how her sister struggled as well.
   
   I also recommend Breathing for a Living by Laura Rothenburg, my favorite book.



2. I think Teresa Mullin achieved her goals in writing this book. It's a truly eye-opening account of what it's like to grow up with a severe chronic illness---how much she had to fight to be able to even be given a chance to do things we all take for granted. I was especially horrified by the account of the sadistic sounding head nurse at her prep school, who seemed to enjoy making her feel out of place. It was sad but telling to read about her delight in very ordinary things like pulling an all-nighter with friends studying and then going very early to Dunkin Donuts---something most of us would not count among life's big events.
   
   I also realized how the emphasis on finding the genes for genetic diseases might distract those who would otherwise work to make everyday life for people with the diseases better. Mullin felt it might have been not that hard to find a way to better fight lung infections and loosen secretions, but so much of the time and money went into finding a cure, and not into finding new treatments. That must be a huge dilemma.
   
   I don't know anyone personally with CF, but I do know quite a few children at my sons' inclusive school that are living with severe chronic conditions, and this book will affect how I see them. I wish the best for Mullin's family. I think her parents should also write a book. They would have much to tell about their life with two children with CF---their younger daughter Susan's story is overshadowed here, naturally, as Teresa was away from home so much, but I would love to know more about her, and about how the parents decided to have more children, and about their work on the behalf of CF. I want to thank them for having this book published.



3. Teresa's book about her life is excellent. She's a strong-willed, brilliant person who conveys her experiences without a hint of self-pity. She's articulate and honest, and she opened my eyes to the shortcomings of preventative medicine and its neglect of those who are already living with disease. She also reminded me that you can't take a break from fighting injustice. Every day she fought it, through exhaustion and other people's ignorance. Teresa seems to have had a tireless spirit, and I hope this book helps people remember to continue Teresa's fight against medical complacency and the marginalization of chronically ill people.



4. The book is full of brio, and evinces an emotional maturity that may come only from an early intimacy with one's own mortality. Teresa comes alive again on the pages, with a rare, first-hand account of life with cystic fibrosis that will earn her immortality among her readers.



5. Teresa's words are filled with insight, purpose, and pure honesty. The Stones Applaud offers the healthy an eye-opening account of life as we've constructed it, and offers the chronically-ill a champion for their cause. Highly recommended.

2 comments about My Sky Blue Trades: Growing Up Counter in a Contrary Time.

1. A few themes run through these memoir-essays: rebellion against the father, books as an escape from life. Ok just two themes. The fifties and sixties (Birkerts was born in 1951) are what might be the most documented decades in the history of man. Its very difficult to write a memoir about this time that doesn't sound cliched.

   Birkerts parents were from Latvia and spoke Latvian in the Michigan family home. Ok thats new. But Sven who insisted on being called Peter was a rebel with a cause as a young man: he wanted to conform and be American. As he got older he traded in the desire to conform for a desire to be different and so he became a hippie and he did all the things hippies do: drug experiences, sex, travel, Woodstock. Though well written this kind of book is routine. Birkerts is strongest when he is talking about his grandparents but he is at his weakest when he is talking about the counterculture and his various girlfriends. Birkerts' first love is not women but books. When he is discussing a book all the lights come on in his head but when he is talking about a woman the room remains dim.

   Memoirs are reckonings and the person the writer is really attempting to reckon with is themselves. I get the feeling however that Birkerts has not quite gotten there yet. In this self-portrait the artist hides behind a series of 1950's and 1960's cliches; the experiences Birkert's describes just seem too generic. It is as if his mind is clouded with the popular view of 1950's-60's and he cannot see beyond that to form his own view of the times. Also there just isn't enough of his inner life in this book; no sense of intellectual evolution, no great awakenings to the world except in the most cliched kind of way, and no sense of love for his craft. In fact he doesn't really talk about his craft much. I was expecting some irony or some literary comment on the sameness of childhood and teen years. But no irony, no originality, just a generic MEMOIR.

   A few observations are precisely worded though the thoughts themselves do not sound particularly authentic. Birkerts is a careful reader and his essays are often thoroughly researched and he is excellent at giving an overview of an author's career but I don't thnk he has a particularly unique vision of life to offer. To offer something unique he needs to dig deeper into his experience than he chose to do here.




2. Having grown up in much the same time period and with much the same ethnic background (my family, too, came to the United States from Latvia during WW2), even in the same approximate area (lower Michigan), I picked up Birkerts' book (and, as chance would have it, I found it in the bookstore in Ann Arbor he describes as his place of employment) with immense curiosity. Just how similar would his experience be to mine? Initially, it was rather exhilirating to read this memoir that spoke of so much that I, too, knew so well, down to the ethnic bone. As I read of his discomforts and anxieties about learning a new language other than the one spoken in his home, his sense of being something of a misfit in both the Latvian and the American communities, I identified in most every detail. Ah, yes, this too I felt on my adolescent thin hide... Mine, I felt simultaneously as blessing and curse, as perhaps, in conclusion, did Birkerts.

   In later years, of course, Birkerts' experiences forked away very much from my own... but no matter. I didn't need to look into a mirror to sustain my interest. Indeed, that is the whole appeal of this book - it is not only for the multicultural reader. The writing is excellent, and my exhiliration at sharing in a similar experience soon veered to an exhiliration simply in reading a book so well written. Perhaps that is one of the blessings of being bilingual, this ability to approach a second language with greater awareness. Birkerts' use of language is vibrant and lush and frequently stunning. His insights and perspective on his work, his relationships, the inner workings of his developing self.... all are richly portrayed. No matter from what backgrounds we come, we all question ourselves and our life choices, we all struggle with similar demons at one time or another. Family dynamics are not so different, I'm sure, no matter what the ethnic background.

   Birkerts' `My Sky Blue Trades' is a valuable portrayal of the immigrant experience for more than one generation, but is also of value simply as a well written book.

5 comments about The Division Street Princess: A Memoir.

1. I have to echo all the other five star reviews here, added by Soloways or not. This is a well-written, engaging, moving story of a child's life growing up in Chicago. I read it in one gulp.



2. I read Divison Street Princess and loved every page. SOloway writes wonderfully, and evokes a certain America magically, she has created a very important memoir.
   
   I feel the book is so important in Americana culture and Jewish-Americana cultural archives, that the book should eventually be entered onto an online Internet site, free of charge, so that readers in the future, and I mean the FUTURE, like 500 years from now, can also read this moving memoir! Also, this would make a great movie in the Barry Levinson vein of Hollywoodiana. The murder of the little girl and the arrest of the murderer would make a fantastic 1950s Chicago movie story, with Soloway's memoir bookending the movie on both sides.



3. I was drawn into this wonderful book by the details of daily life in 1942 as seen, in the first pages, through the eyes of a four-year-old child. And I stayed with delight to absorb that little girl's increasingly acute awareness of family, friends, neighbors, and the urban neighborhood itself, as she grew into her early teens. The way in which the reader comes to know and ultimately care deeply about the parents, Min and Irv Shapiro, and the future of the family is especially satisfying. While the time and the place are unique, I believe that everyone of any age will find something familiar in this lovely memoir.



4. Author Elaine Soloway remembers Chicago in the 'forties as the best of times and the worst of times. Now in her sixties, she presents an unvarnished, microscopically precise yet warm and loving account of growing up in a supportive Jewish family above her family owned mom and pop grocery story in Chicago's Humboldt Park.
   
   The author remembers/reconstructs every detail--how her parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and neighbors spoke, dressed, worried, loved, and argued--as the world of their Jewish enclave was dissolved by the drip, drip, drip of postwar mobility. She notes, "Television, suburban backyards, and supermarkets were draining our close-knit block of its friendliness, its familiarity."
   
   Soloway's excellently written account will bring back the past for those of us who shared the same time and place. For those who did not, it will serve as a valued lesson on how we got from Chicago in the 'forties to the Chicago of today and what we gained and at what cost.
   
   --Lowell Streiker
   author of The Old Neighborhood: Memories of a Chicago Childhood--1942 to 1952.



5. The book brought back so many memories from the old neichborhood. It is a good book for all ages.

2 comments about Anne Frank: REFLECTIONS ON HER LIFE AND LEGACY.

1. In this book the editors have selected thirty-one excerpts from various writings about Anne Frank and collected them together under four basic ideas: Anne's life, Anne as a writer, Anne on stage & screen and Anne in relationship to the Holocaust. Overall the selection of the writings is very good. They are of high quality and of varying points of view, particularly with reference to the last three sections of the book.
   
   For example, there is considerable difference of opinion to Anne's ability as a writer, some find her skills exceptional while others think her ability overrated despite her impact. Better known are the arguments over whether the play and movie produced from Anne's diary truly reflected the "real" Anne. Then there are the arguments, growing in recent years, as to whether Anne's diary is an "accurate" or "important" portrayal of the Jewish experience during the Holocaust. I may not agree with Lawrence L. Langer's assessment that the diary is not a "vital text" of the Holocaust but seeing his point of view allows me to think a little deeper about my own position. And therein lies the book's real strength.
   
   Ultimately, though the excerpts are brief and it's easy to plow through them rather quickly, this book can open one's eyes. Some of the material I had read before in other places but I was very glad to encounter the wide points of view that the editors were able to gather. The fact that Anne's single work still has the power to generate such scholarship 60 years later seems to point out its continuing importance in our experience.



2. As part of my effort to learn my role as the dentist in the 1955 version of the play at the local junior college, I read some 14 or 15 books by and about Anne Frank and this one capped my study quite nicely. I recommend it as the one to read after "The Definitive Edition" (or the fascinating "Critical Edition", if you're up to that), Willy Lindwer's "The Last Seven Months", Melissa Muller's "Anne Frank: The Biography", Miep Gies' "Anne Frank Remembered", and Eva Schloss' "Eva's Story". It's scholarly, well edited and footnoted, and has a fine bibliography.