There once was a girl who painted watercolours in the 19th century, there once was a teenaged boy who used drugs and fought with his parents. Either of these stories could’ve been interesting had they been fully researched and then written about with insight and verve, but instead they seem half-hearted and half-finished. They are then mashed together as though two half-narratives will form a whole. Sadly, they do not.

In telling the story of the 19th century girl Mary Yelloly, Myerson addresses the deceased girl directly, “By the time the fifth baby dies, your grandmother is very ill indeed – yes, the family foe again”. Referring to consumption as ‘the family foe’ and talking directly to the dead girl about her family has the effect of sounding both smarmy and twee.

Myerson records the minutiae of her own letters to Yelloly’s descendents as well as her feelings as she attempts to track down information about the girl. This might work if she wrote more compellingly, but instead it comes off as dull and rather self-centred. We learn very little about Yelloly, who, it becomes clear, is nothing more than a device to reflect back upon Myerson herself.

It seems that the author’s son is similarly regarded as little more than a reflection of herself. She does not seem to see him as a fully-human and flawed person, but either as her perfect little boy or a manipulative drug-addicted monster. Early on, she decides that his brain has been warped by drugs and then doggedly pursues this theory, failing to consider that other elements (depression, discordance within the family, etc) might also need to be addressed. Despite writing this book which is purportedly about her relationship with him, Myerson seems painfully incurious about her son, and supremely unaware of herself. A particularly appalling moment comes when Myerson, having rushed her son's girlfriend into an abortion (which she repeatedly mentions costs her £700) fails to see this decision as something which might affect the 16 year old girlfriend or her son (now or in the future) - and only feels something when she thinks about how it relates to herself (her grandchild, dead).

If as a reader, I am unable to truly know whether Myerson’s research and description of Yelloly and her own son is accurate, small lazy inaccuracies jump out throughout the text. Myerson may indeed have taken a train from Grand Central to New Haven, but I can assure her that it would be impossible for her to have passed through Hartford (p. 224) on the way! I picked up this book because I am interested in stories that explore the relationship between troubled teenagers and their parents but I would warn readers away from this one. ( )

This poignant tale of the loss of a child, portrayed by the loss of Mary Yelloly in the 1800s and the story of the son of the author as he falls into the world of drug abuse, was far more engaging than I could have ever expected. The pain and the frustration felt by both sets of parents is portrayed beautifully and it seems almost fitting that the author identified with Mary at this time. Mary was still quite young when she succumbed to illness and left behind a tiny legacy of art and hints of love affairs never pursued. The author's son disappears into his drugs, quite literally leaving both of his parents floundering as they watch the young man they've known disappear in front of them.

This would not normally be a book I'd have been drawn to but I was immersed in this story before I'd read fifty pages. The book is sad but hopeful, terrifying but temperate, painful but enlightening. I am grateful that I am not going through what this family is, but realize that it takes so very little to be in that exact same circumstance. I finished this book and felt all the richer for having read it. ( )

Riveting. Captured my attention on every page. ( )

While researching the life of a young woman who died in the mid-1800s at 21 leaving behind a portfolio of watercolors, the author struggles to deal with her oldest child's growing drug addiction.

Myerson's decision to combine these two stories into one book works on some levels and misses on others. Mary Yelloly’s life seems enchanted at first. Born to well-to-do parents, she and her nine siblings live a charmed life on an English estate, cared for by an attentive mother and an accomplished father. The children are all well educated in all subjects, with an emphasis on art. The mother and most of the girls sketch and paint and it is these portraits of everyday life that lead Meyerson to investigate the family. Tuberculosis rears its ugly head and several of the siblings die very young, including Mary.

Myerson’s children also leave a fairly charmed life. They live in comfortable circumstances, attending private school and are doted on by two involved, caring parents. Inexplicably their oldest son, who is never named, begins to smoke skunk, a particularly strong and damaging type of marijuana. He begins skipping school, going out until all hours, and becomes verbally and physically abusive to his parents and siblings. Stunned and bewildered by their son’s complete personality change, Myerson and her husband struggle to help their son and save the whole family from disaster. They ultimately kick him out of their home and suffer as they watch his continued downward spiral into addiction and hopelessness.

Meyerson is brutal in her portrayal of how she vacillates between tough love and wanting to keep her son close no matter what the cost. She questions her intentions and her seeming missteps as a parent, and feels largely responsible for her son’s problems. At the same time, she tries to give her son the room to correct his own mistakes and in doing so allows him to continue his addiction, something she comes to regret. The ensuing stress fractures her relationships with her husband and other children.

Meyerson offers no answers in how to deal with an addicted child, or how to avoid having a child fall prey to drugs. She comes to realize the mistakes that she and her husband made in dealing with their son, but does not think that she has found the right answers. The denial that both she and her husband displayed throughout much of their son’s addiction is chronicled and Myerson acknowledges that a stronger, faster response to his drug habit might have made a difference in the outcome. At the end of the book, her son is still an addict living on the streets, keeping in sporadic touch with his family and refusing to admit that he has an addiction.

While Myerson goes to great length to learn about Mary’s life, a good deal of what she winds up writing about is supposition. Very little is known about Mary’s life and even less about her personality. Myerson frequently refers to the watercolors Mary did of her daily life and surroundings. This is a double-edged sword as none of the paintings are included in the book and this is a major oversight. It is one thing to read descript0ons of paintings and their impact on the writer and quite another to see those paintings for yourself.

Without the paintings and with the lack of information about Mary, her side of the story falls rather flat. Myerson does a good job of weaving her search for details of Mary’s life with her search for answers about her son, but in the end the reader is left with very little satisfaction on either front. This is to be expected when dealing with the bleak subject of drug addiction, but it is frustrating when talking about a chosen figure from the past.

In Sum, Lost Child is a deeply felt book and an insightful tale of how easily a child can slip into drug addiction. While there is no saving Mary Yelloly, one certainly hopes that Myerson's son will be able to save himself. ( )

This book was good in a way that I appreciated the mother's heart toward her teengae son. It was hard to see his attitude and the way he treated his parents while he was using drugs. But so real to the reader that you did not want to stop reading. You always felt for her. The other story that was a parallel, somewhat, of her tracing a family's roots was interesting, but not so necessary to tie them in the same book. It was kind of confusing to me at times too. It was hard to follow that part of the story. ( )

This was an uncomfortable book that I could not finish. The author jumps between the problems with her disowned son and her research on a young woman who died years ago. I could not get into any part about the young woman, even though I am a history buff. I also got tired of reading about the mistakes her son made, her husband made and she made.
It felt that the author purposely tried to pull on heartstrings, but mine must be made of steel because I just couldn't keep reading.
Sorry to rate this book with zero stars.

Two and 1/2 stories are interwoven in "The Lost Child"; the author finds a book of paintings rendered by a young woman in the early 1800's, and upon finding out that the artist died when she was only 21, becomes obsessed with finding out more about her. Then there is the heart-breaking story of the author's son's descent into drug addiction, and the impact of the addiction on her family. Then the author gives the reader a brief glance at her relationship with her father.

I'm not too certain why these stories were all interwoven. The author jumps from one to another without segue. Plus the use of second and third person when discussing Mary Yelloly's story sometimes confused me as to who the author was talking about...Mary? Her sister?

The premise is good; her description of her own initial denial of her son's addiction, and then the acceptance of it and the measures she and her husband had to take were raw and emotional. ( )

I enjoyed the parts in the book about the Yelloly family but did not like her "talking" to her. I was waiting for a good ending and it just wasn't there. I did not enjoy the parts about her son. I didn't like the way she parented and it was not interesting nor did I feel it went well with the Yelloly story. I also didn't like the random parts about the author and her father. She did not elaborate enough on them and they confused me more then anything. Could have been an interesting story but I ended feeling let down and still looking for the ending I wanted. Honestly wouldn't recommend but I gave 3 stars because I enjoyed reading about the Yelloly family. ( )

When I first picked up The Lost Child, I wasn't sure what to expect. I'm not usually a huge fan of memoirs, but I still really enjoyed the book. The Lost Child is about Julie Myerson's struggles in coming to terms with her son's addiction and destructive behavior. At the same time, it's also a story about how Myerson works on a book about a girl who lived over a hundred years ago, Mary Yelloly. These two storylines are seemingly very different, but by the end of the book, both come together. In fact, the parts about how Julie Myerson traces the history of Mary Yelloly make this book much more interesting than your standard "child with drug addiction" story. I would recommend this book to anyone, especially those who have a penchant for memoirs, books about drug addiction, or historians. ( )

Two seemingly very different true-to-life stories woven together into one -- that's the gist of Myerson's The Lost Child. Did she pull it off smoothly? For the most part, yes, I think so. The writing style is a little different -- reminiscent in my mind to James Frey -- but I kind of liked that about this book. I felt like she nailed it down as far as expressing a mother's feelings of love & helplessness in dealing with her son's drug addiction & there were times I really ached for her. During this same period of time, Myerson is collecting historical information about a girl who grew up in England in the early 1800's, but who died at age 21, leaving behind her legacy in watercolors done as she was growing up. Myerson interweaves both these stories: her personal struggle w/ her son's addiction & her hunt to really get to "know" this young girl from the 19th century by piecing together the various clues she collects through her descendents. Some readers may have difficulty meshing these two stories together, but I thought it was a refreshing approach and overall found myself really wondering what was going to happen next in both instances. ( )

This book is awaiting a student review. It is currently checked out.

The Lost Child relayed the struggles and desperation of a mother to save her beloved son from his downward spiral into drugs. Along the way, Myerson tries to protect her other children, marriage, and career from being taken over by the chaos. At times, it was distracting going between the Yelloly story she was researching and writing originally.

In my opinion, the Yelloly story and her son's story should have been two books. Each story on their own was a joy to read but together was distracting. ( )

Julie Myerson successfully tells two stories simultaneously. The first is a story of a young girl who dies at an early age in 19th century England. The reader is introduced to her and her family as the author does her research to tell the story. A fun and interesting way to learn about them and life then.
The second story is that of her own son and his fall into drugs. It is a painful, honest look at what happens to so many families. She and her husband chose to fight with "tough love" and frequently go back and forth as to whether they are doing the right thing. For their son, I think it was the right thing as he seemed to be in denial and combative for so long.
I loved both endings, one I wished for, even though impossible, and the other a beginning reconciliation and reason to hope.
This book was sometimes difficult to read but spurred on by the need to know how it ends I kept picking it up again.
I highly recommend this book especially to teens and their families. ( )

The title is exactly what this book is about ---Julie Myerson's detailed, emotional and very personal description of her life through the dramatic and exhausting relationship with her teenage son. Interwoven with this are descriptions of her own painful relationship with her father as well as with her work as a biographer of a dead young artist from a century ago--which becomes a search for herself. At times it was a little confusing to see which part of the three interwoven pieces she was describing---but each time this was quickly resolved.

I wanted the book to continue----we need to hear about the next ten years the father mentions as the time it might take to get their son back---or is it maybe a lifetime? She writes so that you can feel her tears and completely understand her sobs. It seemed so completely real but her description of a dinner party that fell apart only made me realize how difficult it is to explain this family tragedy in a few sentences. It takes a book just to begin the story, and of course it's not ended. Will time help? One can hope Julie can write another book later---with help from her son? ( )

I'll admit, I did not realized it was a memoir until a third of the way in. But I was no less captivated by the telling of the story. It tells of a mother struggling to deal with her eldest son's drug use. And the pitfalls and obstacles she must deal with in not only acknnowledging this, but in also the ways she must confront it. And entwined in the story, is her search for a long-dead girl's history.
I found the search into Mary Yelloly's history fascinating, but it didn't really have a correlation to Julie Myerson's own struggles with her son. It seemed more of something she did to escape everyday mundane life. Perhaps as a way also to give herself perspective.
The story of her son is tragic, and slightly heartbreaking to read about. And of her constantly trying to be optimistic and hoping it's a phase. ( )

The Lost Child is a memoir by Julie Myerson. Myerson recounts the time she spent researching the short life of a young English artist, Mary Yelloly while simultaneously trying to deal with her eldest son’s descent into drug addiction. It was a time of much confusion, self-examination, and self-recrimination and one wonders how this book ended up getting written at all. It is surprising that all the sadness and turmoil surrounding her son’s addiction didn’t completely derail the project.
The Lost Child is a heartbreakingly honest account of this time in Myerson’s life. She is uncompromising in her efforts to tell this tale objectively. Before publishing the book, Myerson gave her son the manuscript to read and asked for his comments on it, then included those comments in the book. She also included nine of his poems. The author notes that this is a book about loss in all its forms. This is true, but I believe it is also a book about perseverance and hope and realizing that in difficult circumstances involving the people you love, you can do no more than your very best. ( )

I read this book first page to last. I found myself getting pulled back and forth between the story of the Yelloly family and the problems within Julie Myerson's family. About half way through, I lost interest in the historical research and would scan paragraphs looking for more information on how Ms. Myerson and her husband dealt with their son's drug related issues. I have read several books that jump back and forth from historical events to current times; however, as the end of the books approached the time span narrowed until there was a reason for the back-and-forth in time. Throughout this book I just couldn't grasp why Ms. Myerson continued to write about two different story lines. Personally, I was extremely interested in her personal familial tragedy and would have wanted to read more. ( )

This book sits forlornly upon my shelf. I read the first two chapters, but other books called me away. I will come back to it, but not sure when.

I had read the synopsis of this book on LibraryThing when I requested the opportunity to review it. I also read the summary on the inside flap of the dust jacket. And still I was unprepared for this book to be an autobiography. Not that this is a negative, just that it was unexpected. In reality it is only half an autobiography. The other half of the book is the story Julie weaves as she uncovers more and more details about Mary Yelloly’s life and family.

I think the shock of the nature of the book, even though this was simply cluelessness on my own part, made it difficult for me to get into this book at the beginning. Soon, though, I was caught up in the frustration and horror and love all wrapped together around her feelings for her son. As the mother of a young teenage daughter I could identify with her fears. I know I would struggle in the same ways.

The story of Julie’s discoveries of Mary’s life, and the people she met along her journey is intriguing. She brought to life the passions and day to day events of a family living two centuries earlier. Her search of the relics and relatives of Mary Yelloly was like following a treasure hunt with the life of a young girl as the treasure.

The format of the book jumped back and forth between the story of Mary Yelloly and what was happening in Julie’s own family. I felt this very clearly brought the reader into the disjointed emotional tangle that had become her life. The problem is that the jumping back and forth seemed to take some validity away from each of the story lines. This book, in reality, is two stories intertwined together. Although I understand why they were so intricately mixed, part of me wishes they had been written separately to explore each more fully.

Overall, this book did draw me in. I give it 3 of 5 stars.

More information is posted here: http://wp.me/pAjhm-4x ( )

I have a feeling that had I been a parent, this book would have been really hard to read. Even not being a parent, It is not necessarily a fun read, but I was engrossed and had a hard time putting it down.

The book is actually two stories - one about the authors loss of her oldest child to drugs and the other about a random woman who died in the 1800's that for some reason the author is interested in finding out more about. As I was reading it I was definitely more interested in the parts about her own struggles with her child than those about the woman (Mary Yelloly). But upon finishing the book, I began to understand that the author's attempt to understand the past of this seemingly random woman is just a side project to help distract her AND pull her deeper into her own sadness. I think she had a genuine interest in Mary Yelloly in the beginning but the hope of finding something spectacular or more than ordinary becomes the drive.

I don't think this book will make literary history but I am definitely not sorry I read it. ( )

Had to to and get my mind off the drama related to this book. First book I've received through Goodreads, and I have to say the book is decent. I'm going to try and ignore the drama, but I will mention it where necessary for those who don't know about it. The book itself is good, though it probably should have been made into a fictional story with names changed for the nonhistoric characters. Actually, I'm not sure why that wasn't done. Would have avoided all of the uproar this book caused.

Anyways, rethinking this, I'm a bit annoyed by the parents of this poor boy. Not because of this book being published, but of how they reacted to all of this. Honestly, what father puts up with their son hitting their mother and the boy gets away with it? Or better yet, what sane parents just let their kids do whatever they want and go around breaking things, making threats of serious abuse, and let them keep drugs in the house? I feel the pain of having their child spiralling out of control, but I have to wonder who's really at fault here. If you were in your child's room and found drugs in there--would you simply put them back and think "oh, he/she's just experimenting, it's nothing"? All the things this child does...and he gets away with it all. And it's no wonder. The grandmother may be an enabler, but the parents are just as much to blame. If a child doesn't feel that the consequences out way their actions, of course their going to keep doing it. Saying "no" is not always enough. This child comes off has likely never having bee given any punishment before. I couldn't put up with such a child. A night with the cops mights have done this kid some good rather than a warning.

Of course, I can't know what I would do in the same situation. Would I react the same? Actually, I don't think I would at all. But that's me. The way they acted might have been what they thought was best. It's hard to discern properly when under that sort of stress. I honestly don't care whether or not this book "should" have been published over the whole "he's a minor"/"she's taking advantage of him" nonsense. Seventeen, about to turn eighteen (and he is eighteen for part of the book), is barely a minor, and isn't at all in some places. Furthermore, how one can have a "mother's" story without mentioning the lives of their children is even more absurd. Her son is free to tell his side of the story, and he seems to be quite capable of doing so.

But this is a mother's story, and while we hear a lot about her relationship with her eldest son, we barely hear anything at all of her other children. This is one aspect that really bugged me. Actually, I think this could have been split into to separate novels--one about her research on Mary and one about her and her children--yes, children, not just one child. That would, to me, justify this whole "mother" thing. As she is the boy's mother, I do wonder how much of it was overexaggerated. This would have been great as a piece of fiction. I'm still wondering why she didn't take that route.

Now, the other half of the story--the historic elements. Those were interesting, but at times they felt out of place. The transition between the parts about her son and the parts about Mary don't flow well. This is partly the fault of the style and tense used in the story. It's a bit confusing at first, and it's further confused by the lack of quotations in dialogue. At some parts, it may be hard to distinguish between thoughts and what was actually spoken.

I liked all the research and journal exerts though. Those were nice. And they would have been even nicer as their own little story. There is an attempt near the end to try and connect the two stories together, but this splits them more apart for me. I was fine with these two stories running parallel, as they connected somewhat on a thematic level. That last scene with Mary wasn't really necessary to me, and made the whole "nonfiction" aspect feel tainted. It would have worked better if this were pure fiction. Honestly, why didn't she do that?

That's part of my reason for lowering the stars from what I was originally going to rate it. It's good as a piece of fiction, and if you read it as a piece of fiction, you may enjoy it. If you know it's not, you may have a problem with how much information she reveals about her son and his problems. If you don't have any problems with that either, the style may deter you. The historic bits make it worth it if you're into that. There's also a lot of information on drug abuse that most people may not know about. In that sense, this book did at least serve as a menas to open people up more to the dangers of drugs and addiction.

I'm not sure what to think of this book now. It has it's good points, and it's bad points. Three stars seems fitting for that, something caught in the middle. Actually, that describes this book quite well, something caught in the middle. Between the past and the present, modern and historic, Mary and the son, research and home life, a boy between childhood and adulthood--everything is suspended in the middle. The reader is stuck in the center of all these things as Myerson goes off in different directions seemingly at random.

The end is open and satisfying, in a way--if you choose to believe her side of the story. After all, it is only one side of this story. Who's to say how it really happened.

Review also posted here: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/64...

and here: http://basementtime.livejournal.com/8... ( )

I really enjoyed reading this book. I love how Julie Myerson uses allot of description to really pull you in to the scenes of what she is seeing, feeling and reading herself.
I love the journal entries in this book, I love how openly she speaks about her family and son and how all is affecting her as a person, mother, and still in her quest to find out about Mary. ( )