Laura Kalpakian

This book is a testimony to the love of both a father and mother faced with impossible choices and circumstances regarding their son. It was difficult to read because Doug's experience in Vietnam and at home shines a bright light on the injustices faced by those who served there--many who still carry visible and invisible scars decades later. So many servicemen became addicted to drugs thanks to the unconscionable decisions they were being asked to make and the horrible things they witnessed show more daily. To read in such detail how high-ranking officers in the Army, the President, and other leaders lied and covered up their own, and their government's, wrong-doing makes your blood boil, especially when it was done at the expense of ordinary enlisted men. Douglas was certainly not a model soldier, however, he did not deserve what he got. None of them did. I watched as my own father spent years arguing with the VA and government over Agent Orange and other health issues directly related to Vietnam and I can only imagine how Doug's family must have felt screaming into the void over those years of their struggle. The fact that this book came out when our country is again embroiled in a war with no purpose led by high-ranking liars just makes it all the more damning as a historical record. While I am sure this was a difficult journey for the author to take, I am grateful that she shows us one of the unintended consequences of the war in Vietnam and its impact on her family, which represents so many more. It's not an easy book to read, but it's an important one. show less

For good or for bad, the primary figure in this book sounded a whole lot like me. So that was a little bit strange. She is a woman in middle-age, who once again finds herself surrounded by all of her children and step-children and once-were-step-children and ex-lovers and ex-husbands and all of their extended families. I couldn't help but think of all the times in my life when at least 30 people had a key to my house. And then, about 2/3 through the book, the plot takes a twist that I just show more somehow never ever ever expected. show less

Emily Shaw, fresh out of college with a degree in social work, thinks she can heal the world Candy Striper style with her notes from her final Sociology class. Elvis has died five years prior and Emily's first welfare client, Joyce Jackson of St. Elmo, California, is obsessed-obsessed-obsessed with the fallen idol. Joyce doesn't need a Candy Striper. She needs to spread the work of Elvis. As she sits on her porch-turned-shrine to the king with her two daughters, Priscilla and Lisa Marie (of show more course), Joyce tells anyone who will listen how Elvis's job was to sing, entertain, and look pretty, but his life's work was to spread love, charity, and compassion. To make the world see Elvis as a humanitarian is a tall order considering many see his final years as a drug-addled, overweight has-been. Emily, instead of spending the prerequisite twenty minutes with Joyce on the first visit, ends up listening to Joyce and drinking the tea for three hours.
Later we learn how Joyce came to be such an Elvis fanatic. We leave Emily's little life and follow Cilla's childhood, describing how her mom was obsessed with Elvis since forever. I think the story would have held up better if Kalpakian had stuck with the story from Emily's point of view, rather than brief first person narratives from Cilla. They didn't serve much purpose other than to fill out Joyce's personality as a mother. There is one critical scene that Cilla had to narrate, but I think Kalpakian could have found a different way.
But, back to the plot. Along the way, Emily learns Joyce is scamming the government by making money on the side. As a new social worker she needs to make a decision, turn Joyce in or give in to Elvis. show less

What I learned from this book: Cosette has small breasts and (apparently!) enormous reserves of courage and fortitude beneath her 'I want to wear merino and sit vacuous in the Luxembourg gardens' exterior; sex with Marius is good, albeit "sticky and slimy and wet"; a man can hide from the police beneath a woman's hoopskirts and then somehow consummate the relationship from that position; your children will certainly betray you but don't worry 'cause they'll feel just awful about it later; show more Eponine had red hair.

Plus some stuff about how to hold a proper revolution. Marius should maybe have given up on insurrection after all of his friends died in the first one, but no: he goes off to get shot at again. Brave, or stupid?

A very long "bleh". show less