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Named "Zippy" for the way she would bolt around her home, Kimmel's witty memoir takes readers back to a time when small-town America was caught in the amber of the innocent post-war period, where people helped their neighbors, went to church on Sunday, and kept barnyard animals in their backyards.
Some reviews talk about the sad treatment of animals in this story. I think it's important to note that rural America does have a different take on man v animal. There are distinctions between barn cats and house cats, between family pets and hunting dogs, etc. I don't hold the author accountable for the way things are (or may be) in these types of stories. She is writing about an authentically different community life from one that would say put a family pet through 12 months of chemo.
This story made me laugh. Hard. I bought the tape for my sister and book copy for a friend. If the way life in this story is depicted isn't funny to some, maybe that's the point. Personally I keep it handy for the humorless landscape of winter and drudgery of office life in the big city. It's help enough to know that somewhere, out there in the Midwest perhaps, people are just getting by, too. Without all our veneer. Not because life is perfect, but what isn't perfect about life forces the characters in this story to consider what aspects of civility really matter. On a daily and hilarious basis. Let's recall, life begins in a rather undignified, messy manner, and it doesn't move far from that perch no matter the gloss we try to apply. The only gloss in this story is a healthy application of perspective and the steady relief of humor. And with her technique, Kimmel's story shines. ( )
Hook rugs, home sewing, paint-by-numbers. Remote and cruel feral older siblings. Better Christmases at other houses. Playing cards with personality traits. Brain damaged pets. Best father/daughter story since Scout and Atticus. ( )
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So is there no fact, no event, in our private history,, which shall not, sooner or later, lose its adhesive, inert form, and astonish us by souring from our body into the empyrean? Cradle and infancy, school and playground, the fear of boys, and dogs, and ferules, the love of little maids and verries, and many another facts that once filled the whole sky, are gone already; friend and relative, profession and party, town and country, nation and world, must also soar and sing. --Ralph Waldo Emerson, The American Soldier
Dedica
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For my mother and my sister For absent friends
Incipit
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If you look at an atlas of the United States, one published around, say, 1940, there is, in the state of Indiana, north of New Castle and east of the Epileptic Village, a small town called Mooreland.
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Dati dalle informazioni generali inglesi.Modifica per tradurlo nella tua lingua.
Named "Zippy" for the way she would bolt around her home, Kimmel's witty memoir takes readers back to a time when small-town America was caught in the amber of the innocent post-war period, where people helped their neighbors, went to church on Sunday, and kept barnyard animals in their backyards.
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This story made me laugh. Hard. I bought the tape for my sister and book copy for a friend. If the way life in this story is depicted isn't funny to some, maybe that's the point. Personally I keep it handy for the humorless landscape of winter and drudgery of office life in the big city. It's help enough to know that somewhere, out there in the Midwest perhaps, people are just getting by, too. Without all our veneer. Not because life is perfect, but what isn't perfect about life forces the characters in this story to consider what aspects of civility really matter. On a daily and hilarious basis. Let's recall, life begins in a rather undignified, messy manner, and it doesn't move far from that perch no matter the gloss we try to apply. The only gloss in this story is a healthy application of perspective and the steady relief of humor. And with her technique, Kimmel's story shines. (