4 comments about Village of the Small Houses: A Memoir of Sorts.

1. Written and narrated by author Ian Ferguson, Village Of The Small Houses: A Memoir Of Sorts is an hilarious and highly recommended account of growing up poor in the far north when in 1959, just ahead of the law, Ferguson's con-artist father Hank headed up north in a delapidated Mercury Zephyr with his pregnant wife, Louise. Hank got as far as isolated Fort Vermilion where he passed himself off as a teacher at the "Indian school" and settled his ever-expanding family in a house devoid of plumbing and electricity. The lively recounting of a scrappy childhood, Ferguson interweaves truth, tall-tale exag-geration, and a memorable case of growing up among lovable misfits in this 2 CD, 2 1/2 hour autobiographical account.



2. The story here is about growing up in the far north. It begins in the 1950's when a con-artist father, Hank, leaves Edmonton with his pregnant wife and eventually passes himself off at the Indian school as a teacher. Hank settles his family in remote Fort Vermilion. The cast of loveable misfits struggle with the day-to-day harsh reality of being in Canada's third-poorest community. Winner of the Stephen Leacock Medal for Fiction



3. I loved every page of this book. The writing is excellent and the story flows really well. There are so many moving moments in this book that I shed a tear on a number of occassions. I also laughed my head off quite a bit. What more can one ask of a memoir? Well done Ian!



4. I read Ian Fergusons `biography of sorts` on a recent visit to Canada.The book was un-put-down-able,such well shaped characters,such wonderfully evoked scenery. Full of humour and pathos. When does the movie come out?

No comments about The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid: A Memoir.

5 comments about Redemption of the Shattered: A Teenager's Healing Journey Through Sandtray Therapy.

1. When was the last time you took a stroll along the beach at dawn, while there were very few people around? The air is crisp; the clap of the water is magnified; the bits of shell prick your soles. You kneel down and cup some of the sand in your hand, remembering the times when you played on the beach as a child. There is a peaceful aura. The ocean water washes away your troubles as it slowly disintegrates your new sand castle. If you have never experienced this before, plan a morning trip to a nearby beach, and witness the calming effects.

   "Redemption of the Shattered" describes how the author used the act of playing in the sand to heal the emotional scars from his teenage years. With the help of a Sandtray therapist, he reenacts significant scenes of his life, by choosing from hundreds of miniature figures. Each chapter has a narrative, a commentary and family discussion questions. The narrative or mini "play" describes the event from his viewpoint as a teenager. A commentary follows the narrative, which explains his feelings of the event in retrospect. Then there are family discussion questions, asking the reader how they would feel in similar scenarios.

   Bob Livingstone shares the tough parts of his life with the world. It takes a strong person to open up, and say, "This happened to me, and here's how I received healing." He knows how life can be dangerously cyclical, especially within families. "Redemption of the Shattered" shows how Sandtray therapy helped to mend the cracks in his circle of life. This book should be recommended reading not only for emotionally wounded teenagers, but also for adults who need to heal the sands of time.




2. Written and published by Bob Livingstone, Redemption Of The Shattered: A Teenager's Healing Journey Through Sandtray Therapy is a compelling blend of candid memoir with personal spiritual testimony. Here recounted is Livingstone's individual experiences and the near devastating pain of coping with the early loss of his father. Redemption Of The Shattered is highly recommended as a profound and engaging voyage of self-discovery, insight, and the recovery from familial grief.



3. "There can never be enough discovery vehicles to help lead people out of the all-too-often confusing wilderness of their pasts. Redemption of the Shattered is a valuable tool on the road to wellness."
   
   Russell Friedman, co-author of The Grief Recovery Handbook and When Children Grieve.



4. Redemption Of The Shattered by Bob Livingstone is an emotional self propelled path toward healing. I enjoyed it for many reasons. Mainly, I was releived by the ease at which I, a lay person, could read and comprehend the book. Sandtray therapy was a foreign topic to me, but after reading this book, I feel I understand it and its usefulness. Secondly, the format of the book, sandtray, analysis, family discussion and questions is well thought out and practical. It lends to a usefulness in my own life. Finally, Mr. Livingstone connects with the reader by sharing his own struggles and pain, his "Healing Journey" through his sandtray therpay sessions. In doing so, he is a testament to the effectiveness of a therapy process in which he so clearly believes. I would recommend this book to any teenager or adult struggling with emotional pain.



5. Bob Livingstone offers the reader a very personal and powerful account of his story of bereavement. His journey reflects the complexity and multi-layered aspects of a central concern of the human condition: grief. Bob's struggle is our struggle, the search for meaning, integration, and resolution of loss in our lives. Bob teaches us the importance of self-exploration and how willingness to face our own demons can eventually lead to healing. This is a story of hope.

5 comments about Twelve Years: An American Boyhood in East Germany.

1. Joel Agee's Twelve Years: An American Boyhood in East Germany offers a hilarious and universal account of the passage from boyhood to manhood. Enjoying this book does not require an interest in its unique setting. Never mind that the entire work occurs between 1948 and 1960 in the Stalinist dictatorship of the German (un)Democratic Republic; or that the author's Jewish American mother is living with her children and second husband in the anti-fascist Soviet Satellite of the only recently vanquished Third Reich; or that the author's biological father is Pulitzer Prize-winning writer, James Agee; or that his stepfather is an East German writer whose socialist themes become less relevant the more the dictatorship he lives in takes hold. Joel Agee so powerfully conveys the challenging and exciting passage of a male from age eight to twenty, that distinctions of place, time, name, and circumstance meld into a broader truth.
   
   By page thirteen, the book's ever more ironic and outrageously funny form takes shape -- the fibs to Mom, friendship mischief, the struggle to fit in with peer groups, and the stirrings of sexual awakening that should have long ago made this work a classic.



2. "Twelve Years: An American Boyhood in East Germany" is a fascinating memoir. Eight-year-old Joel Agee was brought by his mother and stepfather to the Soviet zone of Germany (what would become East Germany) in 1948 and lived there for the next 12 years. As Agee's stepfather, Bodo Uhse, was a prominent Communist, Agee had the best that East Germany could offer: a villa with servants, summers at the Baltic Sea, and numerous opportunities to recover from his dismal performance at school. Agee does provide an insight as to how the Communist intelligentsia in that country thought -- their explanations for the closed border, their view of the Stalinist (and Soviet-bloc) purges in the early 50s, and their conflicting views of Khruschev's revelations. This memoir is also a coming-of-age story, filled with teenage angst and sexual frustration. What distinguishes this from many other memoirs is that it is exceptionally well-written. Although Agee was never able to get his bearings in the East German school system (or was, as we would say today, a "slacker") his descriptions are almost poetic. Well worth reading.



3. I too have been urged by friends to write a book about my youth. In 1981, at the age of 18, I decided to reunite with my father and immigrated from the USA to the DDR. I was later expelled in 1986 for political reasons and lived elsewhere in Europe until my return in 1991 following the Fall of The Berlin Wall. I remained there until April of 2000 at which time I returned to the USA.
   This book brought back some memories despite the difference in time. (The Author went to the DDR in 1948 at the age of 8. I went to the DDR in 1981 at the age of 18) I had no idea that there had been any other Americans that shared an even remotely similar story and Joel Agee does a great job of telling his story with far more emotion and prose than I ever could.
   The book is a wonderful insight into life in a country that no longer exists...from the view point of an American child/young adult. I especially recommend it to anyone who has grown-up or lived in a country where they felt they did not belong. In my opinion, Agee entered the DDR in its infancy and left just as its darkest period began. I entered The DDR at the height of the Reagan Era and witnessed its collapse from within. Two historic phases. I only wish that both of us could have witnessed more.



4. I read Joel Agee's book "Twelve Years. An American Boyhood in East Germany" in German and in English and tried very hard to get a used copy of his first american edition - without any success. Finally, he is back again with a new edition, and allthough my english is not as good as it should be, I just want to write down some words abaout this book. For me who always lived in Western Germany it is one of the most interesting books about the communist part of Germany, the GDR (in german it's DDR). It was not meant to be a political book, but it has become one anyhow. The reader is not only enabled to follow a very private story of growing up as a boy (including all the problems most man - since they have been boys - know and prefer not to talk about it), but to understand how culture and everyday life had been transformed by the communist ideology in a way that could be critizised only by children: some simply laughed about it and learned, that even only to laugh could have negative consequences. And getting some idea of how adults did discuss the political penetration of everyday life makes you feel glad to be grown up in a non communist state - but still you can understand that this adults they had their living like others had, and that they were fathers and mothers having everyday problems like others had. This book indeed touched and pleased me. It is a marvellous written autobiographical kind of literature. If you'll read it, it will take a part of your heart and your intellect to. You'll have to love it.



5. I'm delighted to see that Joel Agee's memoir is now available again, and I look forward, with pleasure, to re-reading it. In beautiful prose, Agee not only reveals the pains and pleasures of his growing up (it could be anywhere), but gives us a portrait, from an unusual angle, of life in the newly formed German Democratic Republic, i.e.,communist East Germany, during the period 1948-1960. The historian will find the book of particular interest, but so will anyone else who enjoys entering the unsual world of a sensitive young man with a terrific eye for detail, and who is frank about his inner life.

   Agee returned to the U.S. just as the amazing 60s were about to roll their thunder, and I can't wait to read his follow-up memoir, his "American Manhood" in another world far removed from the East Berlin of his youth.

5 comments about Because of Romek: A Holocaust Survivor's Memoir.

1. This has been one of the few excellent books i have ever read. It is actually real, it really happened, so it makes you feel as if this was happining before your eyes. It was sad, and well written. i actually heard David Faber, the author of this book, speak. He was an incredibly powerful speaker, and his book places you in his position, just as his speech does.



2. David faber visited our high school last week, and had told us about his horrific ordeal during the holocaust. And I was utmost touched and embraced him. I could see those fear he told us in his eyes. And some of us left the auditorium in tears. I recommend this to anyone, because there is a dark side of humanity we taken for granted, and people had suffered more than anyone who had to go through.



3. I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Faber as he spoke at the middle school I attended when I was in 7th grade. He spoke to us about his experiences and encounters during the Holocaust that took part in Europe during WWII. Our history teacher read us "Because of Romek" as it was part of our curriculm. I have not been the same since. This is an incredible account of what he went through in keeping of his promise to his mother to stay alive. I would recommend this to a more mature audience being that it does have some parts that are somewhat rough to handle...or so were for myself but overall is an incredible read...as he takes you through his experiences.



4. This book explains how David's encounter with the Holocaust and yet his story is sad but a good book to read. This is one of the best holocaust memoir I've read! I highly recommended. When I was starting to read the book, I couldnt but the book down...( I ended up finishing the book in 2 days!). I loved it and highly respect the holocaust survivors and of course, David Faber.



5. Had I thought it was fiction, I would have thought the author went over the top with this farfetched tale. To know that it is authentic is horrifying and at the same time captivating. If you are into the holocaust, then you will find this book absolutely fascinating; and if you aren't a history buff I recommend this book as enlightenment. My utmost respect to anyone that has been through this nightmare. And David Faber my deepest gratitude for having written this book.

5 comments about The Lost Night: A Daughter's Search for the Truth of Her Father's Murder.

1. Rachel Howard tells a compelling story in "The Lost Night," a memoir that reads like an extended episode of crime documentary shows like "48 Hours Mystery." A pre-teen when her father was stabbed to death in what seemed like a botched break-in, the loss haunts Howard until she can find a way to make sense of it. Suspicion surrounds Howard's step-mother, whose brother is questioned by police, but it is eventually cold cased. As an adult, Howard investigates further, a decision which brings her back in contact with both her father's family and her dreaded step-mother (who has since married again and moved away.)
   
   The book effectively sets the scene in California's Central Valley, and Howard successfully plumbs the psychological effects of growing up without a murdered parent. She is candid about many of her struggles with men as a result of the loss, although she is slightly dreamy about her wedding and happy relationship with her husband. (This aspect of the memoir seemed overly one-sided and idealistic.) Her father's murder is never solved, but Howard does find a way to come to peace with it, including an acknowledgment of her own biases against her former step-mother, who makes a memorable reappearance in some of the book's best latter moments.
   
   What we end up learning about in "The Lost Night" is the effect of crime on those left behind, and the mysteries that remain when crimes aren't solved. Although the writing is no where near the quality of classics of the true crime genre, this is a worthy effort and worth a read.



2. Met the author at a book signing and was impresssed by her impeccable poise and story-telling ability. Then I went home and read the book. Wow. I had the same experience as the other readers. This is an excellent and poignant memoir.
   One feels the you-are-there quality of a little girl awakening in the middle of the night to see her father covered with blood on the floor. The people in her book are like characters in a Dickens novel, yet they are (were) all very real. Howard captures the cultural milieu of Merced California in the mid '80's. Her father loved Rod Stewart with a passion and the lyrics of his songs weave through the true story of a child trying to make sense of what is going on around her.
   The child matures into an adult and becomes a writer! What an awesome contribution to the memoir genre. I do hope that the killer is eventually caught.



3. This is a wonderful combination of memoir and true crime. I felt as though I realy got to know the author. Her willingness to examine the fragility of memory and adjust her conclusions accordingly made her more appealing. The change in her attitudes toward the people in her life caused me to re-examine my own feelings toward people in my life. This book is a definite addition for anyone's library.



4. Lost and Found - a past reclaimed
   
   I finished Rachel Howard's "the lost night" at 3 this morning. From the minute I cracked its spine, the pages turned themselves, inviting me to ignore every routine chore of mine: dirty dishes, daily exercise, even meals (though I did manage to go to work and feed the cat).
   
   Masterfully written, the book tells a riveting story of the murder of Rachel's father when she was only 10 years old. How she handled the loss of this beloved man, her protector and playpal, is a glimpse into how children cope with tragedy of this magnitude. The experience retrospectively defined Rachel, her relationship with her family and also with her stepmother Sherry, her father's third wife when he was murdered. Rachel, the product of divorce, was spending a few summer weeks at her father's home during this time. She was witness to his last waking minutes and remembered details that would replay themselves with increasing vividness as time went by.
   
   But memory is elusive...and selective. The author comes to realize that her memories were circumscribed by the limited frame-of-reference of a young life.
   
   What I found so compelling here is the child's perspective. I have read (and probably own!) just about every true-crime/courtroom/forensic book that exists, yet I never read such an account from a 10-year-old point-of-view. Rachel illustrates the sometimes graphic, sometimes muted terror-of-the-night children of murdered parents are heir to, their wispy and unexpressed--indeed unconscious--suspicion of significant-others, and their necessary dependencies on adults who, often not comprehending the nuances involved, believe that by trotting the kid to therapy, they absolve themselves of the pain of revisiting the circumstances themselves. In Rachel's case, her father's family remained largely silent with her about that night. They may have felt that openly speaking about the murder with someone so young would somehow legitimize it for her. In fact, their passivity had the opposite, and quite damaging, effect on a young mind hungry for assurance and validation.
   
   Palpable throughout Rachel's memoir is its raw honesty. The writing is often brutally introspective, devoid of the self-pity and lachrymose language which the author might easily --and justifiably-have indulged. She is seeking information and answers, and by the last page, I realize she has found those things, and some peace along the way.
   
   Therese Hercher



5. William Grimes has always been one of my favorite NY Times reviewers. Although he tends to be negative, when he waxes effusive, I take notice. When I saw this....
   ------
   "As a memoirist, she succeeds BRILLIANTLY. "The Lost Night" is ENTHRALLING, a skillfully narrated story that begins as a tale of detection but quickly becomes something more."
   --William Grimes, NEW YORK TIMES
   
   I figured I'd take a chance. Well, it's been sitting on my nightstand for 6-months now and damn if it's not enthralling. Although I was hoping for a bit of a who-done-it, I couldn't put it down. The descriptions of the messed-up Central Valley(to put it delicately)were terrific. With some sex, drugs, and even some 80s Rod Stewart in the mix, for good measure, it was a joy to read.

5 comments about Crazy in the Kitchen: Food, Feuds, and Forgiveness in an Italian American Family.

1. I usually do not put aside a book before finishing it. In this case, I got about a third of the way through and just skimmed the rest and could not bring myself to read it in detail. I purchased this book hoping (despite prior reviews) that it was more food lit than self analysis. However, the strength of this book is in its description of tense family relationships, and indeed not in its descriptions of food in Desalvo's life. If you are interested in it anyway, good luck - there is a lot of emotion in it.



2. This book is the first in a very long time I've read word by word. Even when I could set aside her subjects, the vitality of DeSalvo's writing style was irresistable for me--elegant, layered, a bit vulgar, self-indulgent, complex, musical, heartbreaking, self-effacing, beautiful.
   My maternal grandparents were Italian immigrants to California; my mother and her sisters born in the U.S. DeSalvo's exploration of the Italian culture both here in the States and in the Old County gave me a handhold among my mother's family as no other source has.
   You'll either hate this book immediately, like tripe, or inhale it like the best cannoli.



3. OMG....I forced myself to get beyond page 13 and just had to give it up. There really isn't any 'food'in her repetitive writing, but a lot of angst squished up into a white bread samich that apparently NO one wants to eat, each for their own screwed up, twisted reasons.... what this book did for my stomach was put it in knots..... BASTA!
   This book makes me happy I am Sicilian NOT "Italian-American".



4. I enjoyed this book from start to finish. The descriptions of food were mouthwatering. I appreciated the view into the lives of Italian immigrants and their lives in Italy. The family interactions were well described. Each chapter was a gem of an essay. Unlike many memoire writers, this author sustained the high level of writing and self-exploration to the very end. I really admire her ability to dig into her real feelings and to try to understand her parents and grandparents. I plan to look for other books by this author.



5. I picked up this book to read thinking it was like so many other books I have read about Italian-Americans in an attempt to better understand my husband's family---a light-hearted look at the "crazy" antics of a close knit, pasta eating bunch of eccentrics. However, this is not at all what this book is, and what it actually is helped me more than any book I've read in understanding the family I have joined.

   When Desalvo says "Crazy in the Kitchen", she is not kidding. Her mother and much of her family really does have seriously crazy tendencies---fury, cruelty, irrational financial habits, long running feuds, etc. And the kitchen is where many of these things are played out---from her mother's poor cooking to her step-grandmother's good but steep in unbreakable traditions cooking, to the cooking and eating of her ancestors in Southern Italy, or the NOT eating---for I finally understood what drove so many Italians to come to America. I had no idea how awful conditions were for the peasants of Italy. What they were subjected to honestly reminded me of accounts of places like Cambodia or China, during the Great Leap Forward.

   I learned a great deal about Southern Italian culture from this book, and found myself reading many passages to my husband, a first generation Italian-American who spent much of his youth in Sicily visiting, and who had parents who spoke only Italian, and even he was stunned to find out much of what I read. I now understand my late in-laws much better than I did before this reading.

   The writing style of this book took a bit to get used to, until I let myself fall into it. It's written like so many stories told by my in-laws---in a bit of a circular way---you find out a bit here, and a bit there, and it all adds up in the end.

   I want to thank Ms. Desalvo for this book. I look forward eagerly to reading the rest of her works.

5 comments about From Pieces to Weight: Once Upon a Time in Southside Queens.

1. This is a great book that shows the life of 50 (Curtis Jackson). It was written in a manner that was easy to read and kept you waiting to see what happened next. I highly recommend this book even if you are not a big fan of his music because it shows the story of how someone can make it big even when the odds are stacked against him.



2. From Pieces To Weight was a great book and I gave it five stars because of the writer's vivid descriptions of the harsh things that he experienced in his life. 50 Cent had to go through a really rough life. His mom died when he was a kid and he never new who his father was. 50 Cent knew he was going to be a drug dealer because everyone in his family sold drugs. I'm not going to give away the rest of the book but I suggest you read this book, it is really good.



3. I recently purchased this book for my fiance, who, obviously, loves 50 Cent. He read the first 50 pages the day it arrived, and I must tell you, he is NOT the type of person to sit down and read a book. It's about 50's life in Southside Queens and his experiences as a child up until his fame. While my fiance finds this book inspirational and exciting, I find the writing style to be fairly simple with 50 reiterating well-known facts (ex. You can't have life without death) and also presenting himself as an arrogant, almost martyr-type of character. Why do I say that? He talks about himself and his experiences in life (which may or may not be exaggerated) and repeatedly states that what he has gone through should be used as an example to others. He blames the media for his portrayal as a "bullet riddled rapper" but obviously, 50 uses it to his advantage without much complaint. He tries to come off as a mentor and inspiration, but I really did find him irritating at times. I think their are better role models for others to look up to. I'd rather read Sidney Poitier's memoirs than idolize 50 Cent. But that's just my view. For 50 Cent lovers, they'll be inspired and amazed.



4. I read the book From Pieces to Weights, by 50 cent. This book showed me how the streets are a hard place. There are a lot of people that think the streets are a horrible place and that there dangerous. Well they are dangerous, but there not horrible and many people think that there are horrible people that live in the area. This book showed me that many people on the streets hustling are really trying to find themselves. This book also showed me not to judge the people that are selling the drugs.
   
   This book really touched me with what 50 cent was going though. His mom was killed for selling drugs and then he went and started to sell drugs. I really think he didn't have a choice because it's what he saw everyday. He watched his aunts and uncles and everyone else on the streets, and he probably thought that it was the right thing to do. This book was very well writing and I got hooked to it. I think 50 cent did a great job at telling his story.
   
   I would recommend this book to anyone, I think mostly people who don't really know about the streets because it tells you a lot. I wouldn't recommend this book to people that do not like bad language used a lot. This book was very entertaining. I suggest you read it.



5. when I read his book he had some facts that I didn't know about. his book should reach the #1 spot on the book list.

2 comments about Of Men and Mountains: The Classic Memoir of Wilderness Adventure.

1. This book is a wonderful and gentle journey of one man who loved to be in the mountains! As an adult I started backpacking the very areas Douglas talks about in the book and have grown quite fond of the southern portion of the Cascades. Names like Darling Mountain, Fryingpan Lake, Fifes Peak, Old Snowy Mountain and Conrad Meadows - I've been to most of these places!
   
   Through Justice Douglas I get to see how it was so long ago! Very well written, you get to hear about the adventures of young men growing up and doing the things that young men did in the early 1900s. And while specific to the Wallowas and the south central Cascades, the story is told as if the forests he visits were the forests closest to you. Each little lesson he learns, he shares. Tips on cooking and fishing and surviving - and how to be a little less afraid and a little more inspired. These are the forests that are visited by wise scholars and simple horsemen and everyone in between.
   
   The book is definitely not a work of fiction - you couldn't possibly describe these places in the way that he does without having been there. The book is about real places with real people. Don't take my word for it - drive to Tampico near Yakima in Washington and hike up to Darling Mountain. Then go down to Conrad Meadows and to the Tieton Basin. Walk across Highway 12 and up Indian Creek trail to the Blankenship Meadows and then up to the top of Tumac Mountain. When you're tired looking as far as the eye can see, go down to Twin Sisters Lake for bit of fishing and a night of rest before the long journey to Bumping Lake and then on to Goose Prairie where Douglas once lived. These are a few of the places that Justice Douglas takes you to.
   
   If you want the controversy of William O. Douglas read "Wild Bill: The Legend and Life of William O. Douglas". If you want to read about men and mountains, then I highly suggest this book.



2. When I first read this book several years ago, I was truly inspired by it. This is a delightful story of a boy that overcame the seemingly insurmountable obstacle of paralysis (if memory serves, induced by polio) by forcing himself to walk in the mountains of the great Northwest, and eventually becoming a United States Supreme Court Justice. Finding his strength and his soul (and his paralysis cure!) in the wilderness, he would often retreat to the great outdoors. This is a story of his lessons, and his adventures. A wonderful read.
   
   There is a problem with it, however. It isn't true. For one thing, Douglass never suffered from paralysis as a child as he claimed in the book. He sufferred from re-occuring intestinal colic. He also stated that he lived in poverty with his mother. As it turns out, his mother was typically middle-class. He claimed to have graduated second in his class from law school. Again, a lie.
   
   Apparently, discerning the reasearch I have done on Douglas, this book was politically motivated by a man who wished to paint himself as wholesome as possible in order to obtain his life's ambition - the White House. Studying more on this man is revealing. He left his wife of 28 years for a series of younger women. He left his third wife for a high school student. 24 months later he married a college student that he met waitressing at a cocktail bar. His own children thought him "scary" who only spoke to them when "press photographers wanted a picture." There is also a controversy about his military service - if he ever did actually serve, and if he deserves to be buried in Arlington National Cemetery (where he is buried.)
   
   The book itself, as I said, is a delightful read. If it were true, I would give it five stars without blinking an eye. Read and enjoy this piece of masterful, self-revisionist fiction.

2 comments about The Scent of Eucalyptus: A Missionary Childhood in Ethiopia.

1. This thoughtful and beautifully written memoir by the son of SIM missionaries is much more than an autobiography, for it delves into the complexities of identity and self-understanding that are so much a part of the experience of many missionary children. After growing up in a small village and becoming fluent in Oromifa and Amharic, Daniel makes the transition involved in attending the mission boarding school in the capital city where his primary peers are now MKs like himself. During the tumultuous years of political upheaval following the overthrow of Haile Selassie in 1974, the rising hostility toward foreigners is directed on a number of occasions to Coleman and his pink skinned friends. The discovery that he will always be a "ferinjie," or foreigner, in the land of his birth is a shattering one that makes him determined to forge a new identity and to forsake his past when he returns to Canada at the age of seventeen. From that point on he tells people he is from "Wheatley, Ontario," his Dad's home town. The book begins when Coleman returns to the land of his birth after an absence of fourteen years. Now, as an academic, he reflects on how his identity, faith and outlook on cultures have been shaped by the formative experiences of his African past.

   The eucalyptus symbolizes for Coleman the complex interplay of cultures. This tree, native to Australia, was transplanted to Ethiopia as a quick-growing source of firewood and building materials. Though a foreign specimen, it thrived and replaced much of the native vegetation. Like the eucalyptus, missionaries seek to flourish by negotiating between the culture they bring with them and the culture to which they have come. Coleman has an appreciation for the many facets of this interplay and is critical of some of the stereotypes of missionaries perpetuated by media and social scientists. His final chapter, "Babies in the Colonial Washtub" is a brilliant exploration of this complexity.

   Coleman allows his readers to enter into his own struggle to affirm the same certainties about God that he imbibed from his family during his formative years. While not afraid to voice his doubts, he maintains a genuine admiration for his parents' and his Ethiopian friends' faith, sacrifice and commitment to their task.

   This book is a delight to read. The author's masterful use of the English language applied to a subject that evokes deep emotion is engaging from the first page onward. Readers who are particularly interested in issues relating to the well-being of missionary children will find this extended case self-study to be very insightful.




2. If you were born in Africa of foreign parents or spent most of your childhood years in Africa, you owe it to yourself to read these two books. Whether your experiences were positive and you have returned to Africa as an adult, or whether you need catharsis from emotional wounds Africa is so adept at administering, these authors will provide contrasting mirrors in which to search for your reflection.

   The Zanzibar Chest describes a Reuters war correspondent's life-experiences (mostly Africa), including the meandering description of a colonial officer's death, as described in a diary left to Hartley in his deceased father's carved Zanzibar chest. The Scent of Eucalyptus uses the foreign gum tree, widely planted in Africa, to symbolize a missionary child's nostalgic return, as an adult, to Ethiopia; the last part of the book is spent attempting to debunk the widespread academic view that missionaries were inept, short-sighted religious fanatics that spread cultural disarray in Africa and like places. Both books have much insight to offer those who would understand the world-views of Europeans raised in an African setting and who then spend a lifetime striving to amalgamate the various cultures that make up their characters.

   Given the first person singular that dominates these non-fiction efforts, a certain amount of narcissism is to be expected. Both books suffer from a lack of focus, since neither have a readily discernable central plot. They jump between present and past, between what the authors perceive is their African story and the story of others around them. Anyone who has suffered culture shock or it's lifelong after-tremors can relate to this sense of what I call "socio-cultural netherness". The experiences these authors relate explore the trauma of self-imposed (in Hartley's case) or childhood (Coleman) African experiences that flash back uninvited for all of us Africans of foreign blood, long after they are relegated to suppressed memory. Sitting at my desk I can relive a decades-old Angolan war scene in crimson detail yet forget what was said at my last annual job evaluation. This lack of plot in both books, therefore, is understandable to me personally but makes categorization of these books difficult.

   Having read these two books at the same time, I was struck by the contrast in world views from authors with fairly similar childhood backgrounds. Both were born and raised in Africa, fluently spoke, at one time, at least one African language, while growing up in strongly colonial (or neo-colonial) family settings. The privileged backgrounds of private schools and relative wealth contrast with the stress of social and emotional disconnect with everyone (including non-African raised parents) except those similarly lost.

   Both authors portray, in unusually gentle terms, their parents' failure to change Africa. Coleman's missionary family's calling to evangelize Ethiopia's ancient Christianity is portrayed as sincere by an author who himself appears to have rejected their brand of theism. He even goes to great lengths to deflect the cultural imperialism his academic colleagues in Canada attribute to the entire missionary effort of the past few centuries.

   Hartley, by contrast, minces no words describing his parents' failure to protect Africa from itself, first as British colonial servants and then as post-colonial development workers in the service of "do-gooder" foreign organizations. But, for a war correspondent, his writing is almost sympathetic as he describes his father's failure as agriculturalist, husband and parent, contrasting these with physical and social sacrifices in remote regions that eventually lead the elder Hartley to "go native" by starting an ultimately failed parallel African family. Both the newly arrived Canadian missionaries and the long-established British expatriates are well-intentioned Europeans who, if they change Africa, do so in completely unintended ways. Africa, it is clear, changes those who come to change it.

   There the similarities end, however. Although Hartley is no saint, unapologetically describing his debaucheries while constantly living on the edge in Africa's hellholes, he appears more attuned to his own immortality than Coleman. During several occasions in which Hartley assumed his life was prematurely ended by violence, accident or disease, he finds comfort in the spiritual realm. He also searches for humanity buried in the inhumanity surrounding a war correspondent. Coleman, living the quiet, sheltered life common to most Westerners of the northern hemisphere, hints at agnosticism that does not require religion to get him through the drudgery of a predictable day-to-day.

   Coleman describes his surprisingly detailed African experience through the rose-tint of a returning, long-absent son. His rejection of an absorbed (if not genetic) Africaness, as implied by never having returned to live there as an adult, leads him to choose the sedentary, colorless life of a Canadian academic. No surprise, then, that he describes his childhood experiences and defends his missionary roots with seemingly little understanding of the broader impact his culture, his nation, and his family have had (intentionally or not) on Africa. Yet one can tell from his ramblings, inspired by a short visit to his childhood haunts, that Africa has never quite left him.

   In violent contrast, Hartley over-loads his writing with realism that describes, in mind-numbing detail, the atrocities Africans commit on each other as the world feigns disinterest while simultaneously devouring Hartley's gristly Reuters reports. Ethiopian, Rwandan, or Mozambican post-colonial traumas spill out in maggot-infested, visceral stench. If your African experience ended twenty years ago with picturesque village scenes and verdant boarding school rugby pitches, Coleman will help you catch up on what you have missed in the mean time. It may even temporarily cure your chronic nostalgia.

   These two books are worth the read, if for different reasons. Coleman's quiet childhood memories of an Africa that, even then, was crumbling, remind us of what we often forget from our own childhood. Hartley slams us back to earth, reminding us that Africa is far from the simplistic, idyllic land of our youth. Both versions are correct, both versions worth reliving.