Debra Monroe

I identified with many of the experiences in this book, and I appreciated Debra Monroe's excavation of Midwestern girlhood in particular. I loved her recreation of a world where prizes for figurative language are incomprehensible and prizes for "best sales record for radial tires in the tristate area" made sense. But what I value most is Monroe's lovely sentences. Her memoir rips along at a great pace, floating often above the level of scene in a storytelling voice that allows for analysis and essaying about the themes of work, ambition, class-jumping, and longing through such details as pronouncing "merlot" with the "t." As Monroe so deftly observes, you don't know the class you're in until you leave. This reminded me of Mary Clearman Blew's "This is Not the Ivy League," which is great company to be in.… (altro)

This book feels less like a single, linear memoir than like a collection of personal essays. Perhaps that's what it is -- many of these chapters were published as stand-alone essays before the book came out. But who says narrative has to follow a single, linear structure? In fact, I loved this book for its structure, which broke down what is actually a complicated web of emotional, legal, professional, and psychological dramas into easier-to-read chunks. With a story as full of trauma and of abject joy as this one, you need small bites.

That's what makes this whole book feel like honest storytelling. This isn't some big important textbook on adoption or some high-minded treatise on race and culture in America (though you could certainly find those ideas in here if you look for them). No: this is simply Debra Monroe sitting in your living room, sharing a bottle of wine, telling you how things look from where she's sitting. There are times you want to hug her, and times you want to push her away, and times you want to open a second bottle. That's how open and honest this book is. And it's a wonderful read.… (altro)