The Glass Castle: A Memoir

Book. Hangover.

I loved it. What I especially liked was as we came to the end, not only had "us kids" flown the coop, landing in NYC (New Yawk City!), they'd made it. And by made it, I mean they'd worked, gone to school, and had found their way in a city where those from WV, or anywhere else quite honestly, might feel like iguanas transported to Antartica. As in, what do we do now? How do we survive?

After their upbringing by two of the most bizarre, strange parents I've ever read about - although I have somewhat changed my opinion of them being total losers - I thought for sure they'd all hightail it out of there. But. No. They succeeded, and quite spectacularly. Well, all of them except Maureen.

My eyes welled up when JW told her father show more she didn't want him doing the "skedaddle." It was one of those perfect reader moments where you're laughing and crying at the same time. My reason for changing my mind about the whack ball parents? I felt they did love "us kids," albeit in a bizarre way.

And the very last sentence of the story cinches it all together. "A wind picked up, rattling the windows, and the candle flames suddenly shifted, dancing along the border between turbulence and order."

Oh my heart. Perfection. show less

Jeannette Walls grew up with parents whose ideals and stubborn nonconformity were both their curse and their salvation. Rex and Rose Mary Walls had four children. In the beginning, they lived like nomads, moving among Southwest desert towns, camping in the mountains. Rex was a charismatic, brilliant man who, when sober, captured his children's imagination, teaching them physics, geology, and above all, how to embrace life fearlessly.

Rose Mary, who painted and wrote and couldn't stand the responsibility of providing for her family, called herself an "excitement addict". Cooking a meal that would be consumed in 15 minutes had no appeal when she could make a painting that might last forever.

Later, when the money ran out, or the romance of show more the wandering life faded, the Walls retreated to the dismal West Virginia mining town - and the family - Rex Walls had done everything he could to escape. He drank. He stole the grocery money and disappeared for days. As the dysfunction of the family escalated, Jeannette and her brother and sisters had to fend for themselves, supporting one another as they weathered their parents' betrayals and, finally, found the resources and will to leave home.

What is so astonishing about Jeannette Walls is not just that she had the guts and tenacity and intelligence to get out, but that she describes her parents with such deep affection and generosity. Hers is a story of triumph against all odds, but also a tender, moving tale of unconditional love in a family that despite its profound flaws gave her the fiery determination to carve out a successful life on her own terms.

For two decades, Jeannette Walls hid her roots. Now she tells her own story. A regular contributor to MSNBC.com, she lives in New York and Long Island and is married to the writer John Taylor. show less

Der innere Konflikt der Autorin, der sie jahrelang schweigen ließ, wird bereits in der Einleitung deutlich. An einem stürmischen Märzabend befindet sich die bekannte Kolumnistin Jeanette Walls auf dem Weg zu einer Party. Ihre Vorfreude weicht schlagartig, als sie vom Taxi aus die zerlumpte alte Frau mit dem verfilzten Haar erblickt, die gerade einen Müllcontainer durchwühlt. Sie erkennt die vertrauten Bewegungen, die Art, wie sie den Kopf schieflegt, um ihren Fund zu begutachten. Schockiert und beschämt kehrt Jeanette Walls in ihr nobles Appartment auf der Park Avenue zurück. The Party is over! -- Die Vergangenheit war zurückgekehrt. Die Pennerin auf der Straße war Jeanette Walls eigene Mutter. Eine Kindheit der etwas anderen show more Art zieht noch einmal vorüber. „Wir türmten ständig, meistens mitten in der Nacht!“ -- Ob solche Eltern für Jeanette und ihre beiden Geschwister (ein viertes kam später hinzu), eher Segen oder Fluch darstellten, mag der Leser entscheiden. Mit einer Art Hippie-Philosophie und einem nonkonformistischen Besserwissertum, das zuweilen nervt, ausgestattet, hatten Rex und Rose Mary Walls beschlossen, allem Konsum den Kampf anzusagen. Ein naturhaftes Leben „on the road“ sollte den Kinder „echte Werte“ vermitteln. Ein zwiespältiges Unterfangen bei einem Vater, der in lichten Momenten seinen Kindern die Welt erklärte, Sterne vom Himmel holte und ihnen ein „Schloß aus Glas“ versprach, dann wieder klaute wie ein Rabe, und sich in den finstersten Phasen seiner Trunksucht gar in einen regelrechten Berserker verwandeln konnte. Auch die Mutter, eine vor jeder Arbeit zurückscheuende verhinderte Künstlerin, bot kein rechtes Gegenmodell. Jeanette Walls indes beschloss rückblickend, die positiven Aspekte ihrer „Erziehung“ herauszustellen. Die ständige Flucht vor „den Handlangern, Blutsaugern, der Gestapo“, wie der Vater seine Verfolger verwünschte, die Nahrungsaufnahme aus Müllcontainern, die zerschlissene Kleidung -- das gewählte Außenseitertum gerät bei ihr nicht zum Mangel sondern zum Lebensgewinn. Wie das elterliche Fantasiegebäude erste Risse bekam und die allmähliche Abspaltung erfolgte, wird mit leisem Humor, großer erzählerischer Kraft und (nicht immer nachvollziehbarer) Liebe abgehandelt. Nach Nick Flynns literarisch schrofferen Bullshit Nights das zweite große Buch dieses Frühlings zum Thema Kindheitsbewältigung. --Ravi Unger show less

It’s hard to both hate and love a book in this way. Memoirs are stories from our past- true stories. This memoir holds dark history full of parental neglect, which as a mother I hated constantly. There is no doubt that this family is filled to the brim with intelligence and talent, but to watch it all fade away to nothing due to mental illness is painful. Watching adults neglect the four children they have for two decades is extremely frustrating but you still find yourself cheering the children on throughout the entire process.

Toward the end of the book, someone turns to the author and says, "You West Virginia girls are one tough breed." I have to agree wholeheartedly. The subtitle of this book could easily be Endangering the Welfare of a Minor for Dummies.

Jeannette Walls' memoir is about growing up in abject poverty in an extremely dysfunctional family. Probably the most notable thing about it is the total lack of whining. Through a childhood with the town drunk for a father, one of the most selfish and foolhardy mothers on the planet, constant emotional abuse (and sometimes physical), she avoids self pity and simply tells her story with a clear determination that she wasn't going to fall into any of the traps life laid out for her. Though she never show more sugar-coats the events, the story is filled with the occasional flash of humor and a constant spirit of finding the adventure in whatever circumstances were dealt to her without ever seeming pollyannaish.

I'm a bit late to the table on this book, my natural aversion to over-hyped bestsellers kept it on the shelf through the period of mania, but I'm very glad I read it. Recommended. show less

Raised on philosophy instead of bread, Jeannette Walls did not have what many would consider an ideal childhood; when her uncle ran his hand up her leg while fondling himself, her mothers sighed about how lonely the poor man must be, and when the roof sprang a leak her brother slept under an inflatable raft to stay dry. Walls's story is repulsive; not for the conditions in which she and her three siblings were forced to live, but because they were forced to live this way when her parents could have done better.

The story is not entirely bleak; the core of her narrative is the strength that she and her siblings found in each other, and their determination to make better lives for themselves. The story is as captivating as it is show more heartbreaking, and is ultimately far more uplifting than I expected. show less

I've given this memoir four stars, because I found it well written and a page-turner. But.. it was so sad and depressing and somehow unredeemed. The parents never learned from their mistakes or even comprehended what they had done to their children. The parents justified their actions in wholly false ways and I wanted them called to account for this. I think the author feels that there were things about her childhood for which she is right to feel grateful, but I don't think that as readers we agree. The children suffer both physically (in ways that scar them) and psychologically (especially Maureen - who is strangely absent for much of the book, to the extent that I kept forgetting her existence) and I wanted the author to be angrier. show more I would not read this again. show less