FROM DECEMBER 4, 2007
My book club discussed our December pick, “The Glass Castle” by Jeanette Walls. We were excited to read this memoir, expecting great things based on all of the glowing reviews. We were bitterly disappointed. To me, this book read like a litany of immature actions by horribly dysfunctional (sick is more like it, actually) parents. And even worse, throughout the entire book there was a sense of resigned acceptance, and not the positive kind in my opinion. More like, “My alcoholic father brought me to a bar and prostituted me, but that’s okay because that’s how he is.” There was no sense of indignation and no affect whatsoever from the author. There was definitely no sense healing, of recovery. It was empty. I think we all agreed on that. I suspect we are all going to purge this one from our libraries ASAP.