Imagine having to sneak off to go to a library and hiding books under your mattress.  Imagine having your future husband selected by your grandparents after a half hour visit.  Imagine learning wedding night mechanics from a bald, overworked matron you don’t want to become, just weeks before your marriage.  Imagine wearing long sleeves and skirts and woolen stockings in the summer heat.  Imagine living in Brooklyn on September 11, 2001 and not knowing about the terrorist attack until 4:00 that afternoon.  In her book, Unorthodox: The Scandalous Rejection of My Hasidic Roots,  Deborah Feldman describes growing up in her grandparents house in the insular community of the Hasidic Satmar sect, an especially conservative branch of Orthodox Judaism.  As a toddler Feldman experienced her mother’s abandonment of her and the community; her mentally disabled father was never really a part of her life.  So perhaps the seeds of doubt were planted early.  She bristles at the freedom males enjoy while, for women, there is no end to work.  Dreams of college and career that are out of reach.  Despite cultural pressure, she manages to escape to the occasional movie and keep her reading addiction hidden.  When she meets him for the first time, she confides to her future husband that she is “difficult.”  Marked by her unfortunate parentage, she discovers the spirit to transform her shame into the courage to pursue the path to which she is drawn.  Feldman gives a rare glimpse inside a culture that most of us know little about and the story of a woman who was brave enough to step outside.

Growing up as a hearing child  of deaf parents, Kambri Crews (Burn Down the Ground: a Memoir) witnessed a culture and learned a language that only a minority experience.  As if that weren’t an interesting enough story, add a couple of counter culture parents who escape to the north Texas woods and build a hand-made home.   The act of burning down the ground offers the family a fresh start physically and spiritually, but Crews’ impulsive and flamboyant father grows restless with the quiet life and creates chaos for the family, ultimately landing him a 20 year prison sentence.   Crews suffers though hijinks like when she performs in a prestigious theater competition and, to her horror, her father takes the stage and performs his Elvis impersonation.  She is forbidden from patronizing a pizza restaurant because her father claims they are prejudiced against the deaf because they called police to remove him when he fell asleep at a table; he didn’t mention that he was drunk.   Crews and her brother have shockingly little supervision since her father disappears for long periods of time and her mother is away at work.  Pony riding, pack-a-day smoker Crews herself is pressed into working at age fourteen to keep the family afloat financially.  Bad choices abound, yet Crews’ sense of humor keep the account from being too overwhelmingly bleak, and her drive and inner strength lead her to survive and thrive.

In contrast to the poverty Crews endured, Wendy Burden,  (Dead End Gene Pool: a Memoir) grew up with the kind of luxury that only the extremely rich descendents of the Vanderbilt dynasty know, but wealth doesn’t offer immunity from addiction,  mental illness, and negligence.  Burden and Crews have in common their forced independence at early ages.  When Burden’s father commits suicide, her grandparents and hired help become the reluctant guardians of seven-year-old Wendy and her two brothers, while her globetrotting mother devotes herself to acquiring the perfect tan.  When her mother remarries, Burden is hauled off to live in Paris while her brothers stay in American prep schools and spend breaks with their grandparents.  Burden’s assimilation into French culture is not eased by living with her crude stepfather and her self-absorbed alcoholic mother.  Burden is an oddly (or perhaps not too oddly) detached narrator.  Her deprecating portrayal of herself is amusing, but heartbreaking–the clown who is crying inside.  I felt closest to her when she falls for a morose bisexual neighbor whom she idealizes, possibly because of his remoteness and lack of emotion.  Burden relates the decline of her grandparents and the addictions of her brothers with nary a word about how or if she managed to survive relatively unscathed.

The Beginner’s Goodbye is Anne Tyler’s smallest book to date, and fans will wish there was more to it.  The characters in this book are mostly in their 20s and 30s, but act more like they are middle aged or plucked out of some pre-eletronic, earlier time.  Granted they are quirky.  Aaron is awkward both in manner and in body; a childhood illness has shrunken an arm and leg so that he walks lurchingly, often with a cane; his personality is the personification of his affliction.  He falls for Dorothy, an equally socially awkward woman who is eight years his senior, a doctor who is no beauty, careless in appearance, and so doctorly that she seems to wear her white coat even when she doesn’t, which isn’t often.  Despite her tepid response, Aaron pursues her.  The reader is struck with the seeming randomness of love.  This unlikely couple go on to have a marriage that, while working through his grief over Dorothy’s untimely death by fallen tree, Aaron admits has been difficult.  The really intriguing part of the story comes with the reappearance of Dorothy as a ghost and her ensuing insightful remarks about the relationship.  Because of them, Aaron is able to come to terms with his shortcomings as a partner and to grow emotionally.  What I really appreciated about this book is the honest portrayal of the capricious nature of infatuation and the life-altering consequences of pursuing a relationship that seems ill-advised and is discouraged by others.  Moth to a flame.

It reminds me of Jeffrey Eugenides’ The Marriage Plot which chronicles the love triangle of three Brown students and follows the year after their graduation.  Madeleine falls for the enigmatic Leonard during one of his manic phases and somehow she never reconciles her romantic ideal of him when he sinks into debilitating depression.  Meanwhile, her buddy Mitchell who wishes to be more than a friend suffers teasing, insult, and rejection at shallow Madeleine’s well-manicured hands.  Madeleine exasperates readers as she marries Leonard and gives up her own dreams, like some Victorian anti-heroine.  Most engrossing is how Eugenides slips from one to another of the three points of view, convincingly and revealingly.  Here are three smart characters letting love make a fool of them.

Growing up in the 1930s, Louis Zamperini possessed a mischievous and restless spirit and an innate optimism that would become his greatest gift.  His older brother, Pete convinced Louis to channel his exuberance into running–a brilliant move that would land Louis a place in the 1936 Olympics.  If the war had not intervened, Louis surely would have broken the world record for running the mile.

Laura Hillenbrand craftily begins her narrative at a collosally low point in Louis’ life.  After their plane crashed, Louis and two other Army airmen are floating on a raft in the middle of the Pacific–sunburned, bodies riddle with salt sores, starving, and critically dehydrated as circling sharks hungrily await the inevitable.   Hope materializes in the droning of an engine from above.  So weak, he can barely manage, Louis shoots flares and releases pigment in the water to get the attention the plane.  Impossibly, the plane does not bring deliverance, but near annihilation.  When it dives into view, the men see Japanese zeroes on its wings.  Following this tantalizing  introduction, the reader is led to the beginning of Louis story, his wayward childhood, his glorious running career; his life unfolds chronilogically, bringing him into World War II, a bombardier stationed on a Pacific Island.  The tension created by the first scene carries the reader through several incredible missions, all of which could be the one that lands Louis on that raft.

Spoiler alert– Louis survives his 47 days on the raft only to suffer brutal treatment  as a POW in several Japanese prisons.  The ups and downs he endures makes one wonder if “Immortal,” is a more apt title than “Unbroken.”  The story of a true American hero is in good hands with author Laura Hillenbrand; though unbroken, Louis is not portrayed as undamaged.  Hillenbrand tells the story with just enough restraint to engage readers’ hearts, and she unflinchingly portrays the profoundly devastating realities of war.

I alternated between reading the book and listening to the audiobook version of Unbroken during two recent long drives.  Actor, Edward Herrmann is a masterful, silver-voiced narrator, although being trapped in the car listening to the some of the story’s gruesome details made me long to be speed reading through them.

An indomitable spirit, Louis Zamperini will turn 95 this year.  He gave a baccalaureate address at Bryant University last year.

Illustrated with vintage postcards that beg for a backstory, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children (by Ransom Riggs) starts off as a typical teen novel with a self-deprecating narrator from a mildly dysfunctional family.   Jacob’s  big challenges for the summer are getting fired from his inane job at one of the family’s chain of drugstores and to keep his grandfather, who seems to be suffering from worsening dementia, in check.   Jacob had always shared a special closeness with his grandfather, but long ago stopped believing his fantastic stories about monsters and the “peculiar” children he grew up with in a Welsh orphanage.  When Jacob’s dad dispatches him to his grandfather’s house on a day when the elder is especially agitated, Jacob finds him in the woods behind his house, the victim of a brutal attack by what authorities guess was a wild animal.  The tentacle-mouthed creature Jacob glimpses leaving the scene haunts his dreams thereafter, along with his grandfather’s dying instructions, to “find the bird, in the loop, on the other side of the old man’s grave.  September third, 1940.”  So begins Jacob’s quest.  He convinces his ornithologist father to accompany him to the island where his grandfather spent his childhood as a refugee from occupied Poland.  Jacob expects to find the idyllic, rambling mansion of his grandfather’s stories, but is disappointed by a bombed out shell of a house covered in mold and neglect.  Determined to find some clue of what his grandfather meant to tell him, he stubbornly explores the house.  When he discovers that he’s being watched, he pursues the spy to a part of the island heretofore known only by “peculiars.”  The action kicks into high gear in this coming of age story that combines horror, magic, fascinating characters, and a little romance.  Read it before Tim Burton gets his hands on it.

For me, perhaps the most compelling thing about memoirs is when the author finds herself at odds with her upbringing and the ensuing struggle that leads to thinking for herself, free of the ingrained “truths” she accepted quite as naturally as breathing.  Religion provides the basis for many of these stories including two recent reads.

Holy Ghost Girl by Donna M. Johnson grew up on the traveling revivalist tent circuit.  The charismatic preacher David Terrell had a special relationship with Johnson’s mother which caused friction with his legal wife.  Living like a gypsy, falling asleep across a couple of folding chairs as the adults prayed into the early morning, living in fear of the menacing Ku Klux Klan who disagreed with Terrell’s policy of non-segregation, moving into ramshackle temporary housing, spending hours on the road, and only occasional school attendance were all Johnson’s normal.  When her mother is called to do missionary work with Terrell in South America, she and brother are passed off on a series of temporary guardians whose treatment is often abusive.  Is Terrell the performer of miracles and saver of souls she was raised to believe or a pathological narcissist with a cruel double standard of behavior?  Are his followers dupes or is he deserving of their reverance despite his failings?  Johnson still struggles with definitive answers.

Fathermothergod: My Journey out of Christian Science tells the storyof another religious group outside the mainstream.  Lucia’s parents adopted Christian Science with a fervor that led her father to give up his high paying job to become a Christian Science pratitioner–what in “Science” substitutes for a doctor who uses prayer instead of medicine because “dis-ease” is just an illusion caused erroneous thinking.  When Greenhouse and her siblings suffered injuries or chicken pox, the family hudddled and sang hymns.  In retrospect Greenhouse wonders if her nurse grandmother’s oddly speckled applesauce hid contraband baby aspirin.  When Greenhouse’s mother becomes cricitically ill, she and her adult siblings, no longer followers of their parents’ religion,  struggle with the morality of allowing their mother to practice her religion and deny medical intervention.

In his latest novel,Damned, Chuck Palahniuk is the antithesis of Judy Blume whose character mused, “Are you there, God?  It’s Me, Margaret.”  Thirteen-year-old Madison finds herself in Hell after what she assumes is a marijuana overdose (the reader will later find out what really caused her death).   Believing she was wrongfully assigned, Madison quickly sets about finding out how to get herself where she belongs with the assistance of her newly adopted posse, a hellish sort of Breakfast Club of the Underworld.   The crew travels though waterfalls of excrement, dandruff deserts, and moutains of disposable diapers, and observes the daily tortures of the damned as they are tormented by monsters and never ending showings of the film,The English Patient.  Because Hell is the mother of bureaucracies, Madison takes a job as a telemarketer while she waits for her papers to be processed.  Now you know where those annoying calls originate.  Palahniuk delivers a hilarious parody of the young adult novel while dishing up some existential truths like this:  “No, it’s not fair, but what makes earth feel like Hell is our expectation that it should feel like Heaven. Earth is earth. Dead is dead. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough. It won’t help the situation for you to get all upset.”  Even the horror of having your liver eaten every day loses its horror after the first few times.

Author Eric Weiner lands in the Emergency Room with severe stomach pain.  While waiting for his diagnosis, a nurse cryptically asks, “Have you found your God yet?”  Thinking the worst, then getting a reprieve, he decides that this is a message he needs to heed.  So begins his journey to find his god and work through his persistent depression.  Weiner’s writing is breezy and humorous, while he treats the traditions that he explores and the gurus he meets with respect and, at times,reverence.  He gives the reader a voyeuristic view of eight religions with journeys to their respective stomping grounds.  We go to California to explore New Age Sufism and wind up in Turkey  “turning” with Muslim Dervishes.  Next stop is Nepal for a little Tibetan Buddhism and doses of wisdom served up from some ex-pat wise men.  We return to the States and get real with Franciscan monks in the Bronx.  Las Vegas is the perhaps an unlikely spiritual destination, but it suits Raelism well with their beliefs about Extraterrestrial creationism and hedonistic practices.  The mountains of China are the setting for investigation of the Tao accompanied by a wise, beer swigging buddy.  Where else but Seattle would Weiner find an enclave of (clothing optional) Wiccans to consort with?  The Shamans of Maryland garner Weiner’s attention before his final destination, Israel and the mystical, magical town of Tzfat where he discovers Kabbalah.  With its cast of offbeat masters and its bumbling, all too human guide, Man Seeks God is a thoroughly entertaining, tantallyzing romp for spiritual seekers and the spiritual curious.

Alice LaPlante’s debut novel, Turn of Mind presents compelling characters enmeshed in difficult, sometimes enigmatic relationships.  At its center is Dr. Jennifer White, a retired orthopedic surgeon whose specialty was hands.  She was known as a genius in the field.  Now she can’t recall who the strangers in the room are, although they claim to be her daughter, her son, her caregiver.  Sometimes she recalls that her best friend has been murdered.  Sometimes the shock and grief is fresh.  Strangely, the victim’s fingers on one had have been surgically removed, making Jennifer a prime suspect.  Written from Jennifer’s point of view, this novel shows the unraveling of a brilliant mind enduring the ravages of Alzheimer’s.  Through Jennifer’s fragmentary memories the reader is able to put together some key facts about the life of a strong, often cold woman and a portrait of the victim—a cruel and complicated woman whom Jennifer loved, forgave, and depended upon.  Could Jennifer really have committed murder?  The police investigator seems to think so, but is stumped about the motive and mostly about the severed fingers.  This page turner is an excellent choice for book groups.

Deceptive dad #1 appears in Laurie Sandell’s graphic memoir, The Imposter’s Daughter. Sandell theororized that her father was in the CIA because of his covert actions–disappearing on business trips during which he always had the mail stopped; mysterious calls; his overly friendly, exotic secretary; his sudden unemployment and foray into art dealing.  Then there were the stories of his herioc past fighting in the jungles of Vietnam and his romantic duel in Argentina.  His looming business deals and technological inventions involved the interest of the richest men in the world. How to balance this with the man who sat around in his underwear and ruined her credit before she got out of college? Her sisters and her mother seemed oblivious to the inconsistancies and rages of this narcissist patriarch. Lacking their gift of denial, Laurie fell into an unsatisfying love affair and developed a growing dependency on pills and alcohol.  Her riveting, brutally honest and literally graphic memoir is the story of a survivor who become a healthy and successful writer/graphic artist.  A similarly heart wrenching memoir in the graphic format is  Fun Home: a Family Tragicomic by Alison Bechdel which chronicles her coming of age as the daugher of her emotionally distant funeral director father.

Meanwhile, the second of our deceptive dad stories is The Tragedy of Arthur, which coincidentally, is the name of the book within the book; the author, Arthur Phillips is, also coincidentally, the name of the main character.  To furthur muddy the water, this novel claims to be a memoir and if you check Phillips’ website, www.arthurphillips.info, you’ll find some biographical similarities between the character and the author.  The father of the novel’s Arthur is a flamboyant and gifted artist who uses his extreme talent to create masterful forgeries that often, but not always fool experts. This gift results in the senior Phillips’ almost continuous incarceration and early divorce.  Arthur, the son and his twin sister share a bond that grows stronger in response to their father’s deceptions. However, Dana is much more forgiving and accepting of her father’s penchant for crime and is able to appreciate his charm and maintain a relationship; they share an almost fanatical love of Shakespeare and especially, the rare “Tragedy of Arthur” of which she owns a copy, a gift from her father and inscribed by her grandfather who performed in the play as a schoolboy. Arthur, on the other hand, unsuccessfully deals with his outrage over and anger for his father in painfully human and selfish ways.  An accomplished writer himself, he never heals from his jeolousy over his twin sister’s closeness with the con man and his father’s obvious preference for her. At the end of his life, Arthur’s father leaves him alone a prize so amazing, it will guarantee the family’s fortune, but is it as phony as his signed Rod Carew baseball, angrily discarded when Arthur learned of his father’s real profession?  Incidentally, the baseball was legit, but little else is–not the gift copy of “The Tragedy of Arthur,” the photo of his grandfather, or the Russian passport (also a gift).  Is the inheritence authentic and can Arthur even believe the opinions of experts at this point?  More significantly, will Arthur cash in? This story would sit comfortably alernating between the Bard’s tragedies and comedies and culminates with the printing of the rare play, allowing readers to decide its authenticity for themselves.