One of the most unemotional memoirs I have ever read. It's an interesting history of a family, but I have a really hard time comprehending that this was really his life, that it was his mother and brother he's discussing. He says, when finding out about his brother's suicide, "I scream and throw the undropped shoe at the far wall." I cannot fathom that the person who wrote this book actually had that response. ( )

One of the most unemotional memoirs I have ever read. It's an interesting history of a family, but I have a really hard time comprehending that this was really his life, that it was his mother and brother he's discussing. He says, when finding out about his brother's suicide, "I scream and throw the undropped shoe at the far wall." I cannot fathom that the person who wrote this book actually had that response. ( )

Blue Genes is the memoir of producer/director Christopher (Kit) Lukas, which regales his life and his relationship with his brother, Tony. The Lukas boy’s mother committed suicide when they were children, something the kids didn’t know until much later. Both boys battled depression at different points during their lives and Tony eventually follows his mother’s path. This memoir tells not only Kit’s life, but more importantly, it tells how he came to deal with his past, his family, and his so-called blue genes.

Lucas succeeds in Blue Genes by making it very easy for the reader to relate to him in every stage of his life. Looking back at his childhood we find ourselves knowing both the boy and the man looking back at the boy. This is the way we see every event in the book- as Lukas saw it at the time, and as he is able to look back and dissect it as an adult.

Unfortunately, Lukas’ ability to look back at his life is also the biggest fault with the book. Not often, but at times, it seems his clinical nature gets in the way of the story itself. Yes, Lukas studied psychology in school, but this doesn’t mean we want to hear every iota of psycho-babble he can relate to his family. If this dissection has helped him heal then good for him, but as a reader it gets old after a while. It’s great when we get to see Lukas looking back at his life with adult insight, minus the clinical talk.

Still, Blue Genes is a great look at the life of an amazing man, and in some ways it’s a look at both Kit and Tony. The biggest surprise is the way the two brothers turn out differently, even though they experienced the same relative childhood. Lukas’ memoir is inspiring to anyone, but especially to anyone with a history of depression in his or her family. He’s living proof that we can overcome our genes and find satisfaction and happiness in life.

"Blue Genes" was a fascinating memoir of the author's familial experience with depression and suicide. Not a self-help, help-you, or other to-do book . . . instead just a poignant and moving telling of a story that can open the eyes and heart to the hurt around us. ( )

Stephen King once wrote that suicide “slithers like a snake off the tongue.” Say the word aloud and hear its venomous hiss. In his 1938 masterwork on the subject, “Man Against Himself,” Karl Menninger spoke of suicide’s stigma in polite society, “So great is the taboo on suicide that some people will not say the word…a taboo related to strongly repressed emotions. People do not like to think seriously and factually about suicide”. Should Menninger’s comments describe your perspective on this difficult topic, then Christopher Lukas’ beautifully written, heartbreaking memoir, “Blue Genes,” may not be for you. I didn’t think it was for me at first, but to my surprise, discovered as the pages sped past, and I began relating to so much of Lukas' intertwined, complexly enmeshed relationships and their complicated baggage of emotions, how much it truly was. Christopher Lukas, in “Blue Genes,” has somehow, with his poignant pen, transformed the carbon from the most unbelievably painful, reoccurring events in the history of his seemingly doomed-from-the-start family, into diamonds resplendent with hope and cautious optimism, despite all he’s suffered and tragically lost.

Christopher Lukas lost a lot early in life. At the age of six, circa 1941, his mother, Elizabeth, long-time battler against depression and a then undiagnosed Bipolar disorder, after a couple of hospitalizations involving risky coma-inducing insulin therapy of all things, succumbed to her mental illnesses and committed suicide. She was 33, attractive, talented, an aspiring actress, though admittedly, not able to provide the consistent emotional support her sons, Lukas and Anthony, especially needed. Nonetheless, her death would reverberate forever in the lives she left behind, even if no one in the family talked about her death for the first decade following it. Lukas and Anthony, in fact, did not even learn that their mother had taken her own life until the respective ages of 16 and 18. The silence, the taboo of suicide, ate away at the family like cancer. Only Lukas, through psychotherapy, creative enterprises in television, theatre, literature (he authored “Silent Grief” for suicide survivors), and the amazing love of his understanding wife, and unconditional acceptance of his adoring daughters, would ultimately resolve (mostly resolve) and work through his lifelong grief. Lifelong because the others in his family of origin, one by one – alcoholic father, meddling grandmother, steady uncle, eccentric aunts, and perhaps the worst and final blow of all, his older brother, J. Anthony Lukas, acclaimed NY Times journalist, two-time Pulitzer prize winning author of “Common Ground” and “Big Trouble” – would eventually commit suicide, leaving Lukas alone yet again, distraught and despairing.

Will Christopher Lukas one day die of natural causes, or obey the cruel and merciless dictates of the “blue genes” inherited from his family and die by his own hand? Not really my question, but one Lukas has asked himself over and over again, even now, in his seventies.

“There are days – too many of them – when I ponder,” Lukas concludes, “whether I would prefer to be dead and famous rather than alive and ‘just another striver’ in the world of arts and crafts. Had my brother shown me a way out of the pain of never quite achieving a grander status, or had he shown me what happens when you do achieve that status and it’s not enough?
“Still, with full confidence, I know that I will never go into a room at the end of a day and kill myself.
“Too many deaths in my family, too many suicides.
“I will not follow suit”. ( )