A beautifully written memoir of Annie’s childhood in western Pennsylvania.

Father had stretched out his long legs and was tilting back in his chair. Mother sat with her knees crossed, in blue slacks, smoking a Chesterfield. The dessert dishes were still on the table, and my sisters were nowhere in evidence. It was a warm evening; the big dining room windows gave onto blooming rhododendrons.

Mother regarded me warmly. She made it clear that she was glad I had found what I was looking for. However, she and father were content to sit with their coffee and would not be coming down.

Although she didn't say it directly, I understood immediately that they had their own pursuits (perhaps coffee was one of them) and I had mine. At that moment, I began to realize that you do what you do out of your own private passion for the thing itself.

In essence, I had been given my own life. In the following years, my parents would praise my drawings and poems, provide me with books, art supplies, and sports equipment, listen to my troubles and enthusiasms, supervise my hours, and discuss and inform me. But they would not get involved in my detective work, nor hear about my reading, nor inquire about my homework, term papers, or exams. They would not visit the salamanders I caught, nor listen to me play the piano, nor attend my field hockey games, nor fuss over my insect collection, poetry collection, stamp collection, or rock collection. My days and nights were mine to plan and fill as I pleased.

This memoir paints a vivid picture of Annie's childhood, highlighting the independence and self-discovery that she experienced. It shows how her parents supported her in her interests while also allowing her the freedom to explore and grow on her own.

This work is simply too dull and ordinary for my liking.

For those individuals who have a penchant for nostalgia, they might find some value in it.

However, to be brutally honest, there is literally no drama to speak of and no coherent plot.

It seems to lack the excitement and engagement that would draw in a wider audience.

On the positive side, there are some beautiful descriptions of nature that manage to partially offset the overall tedium.

The author's ability to paint vivid pictures of the natural world is somewhat commendable.

Yet, this alone is not enough to salvage the work from its otherwise lackluster state.

Overall, it fails to meet my expectations and leaves me feeling rather disappointed.

This was truly a delightful read that had the power to transport me back to the wonderful memories of living in Pittsburgh.

It provided a remarkable opportunity to step into Dillard's childhood headspace and experience her world through her eyes.

The story was filled with engaging details and vivid descriptions that made it a pleasure to follow.

However, I must admit that there were a few moments that were not as captivating as the others.

Nonetheless, these minor drawbacks did not overshadow the overall enjoyment of the read.

If I had the option, I would rate it a 3.75.

Despite its imperfections, it was still a worthwhile and enjoyable book that I would recommend to others.

The beauty of Annie Dillard's An American Childhood lies in what another writer, David Abram, calls the spell of the sensuous. This is indeed true of all her writing. However, it is especially so in this work because the sensuous is the magical essence of being a child, that of direct, unmediated experience of what the five senses tell us.

In Dillard's work, it's not just a bird that flies overhead; it's a cardinal. Multiply that specificity by a thousand, including references to rocks, stars, and rivers, and you begin to understand the constant undertow of her writing. This undertow takes you into things, perhaps bewildering in their variety, but glistening and beautiful.

She describes a childhood spent in Pittsburgh, being the oldest girl in an affluent family. She faces both the good and the bad, including her own bad behavior at times, with no rationalizations, just the facts. She was a gifted child, an extraordinary one, racing from obsessions with drawing to obsessions with reading to obsessions with boys. Pittsburgh, as she encountered it, was a central city in terms of industrial output. Her neighborhoods were pretty, with country clubs, dancing lessons, and a church where the upper tier of executives gathered in an impressive spirit of humility. Her father had "an income," and her mother, clearly frustrated, had a quick wit, a sharp tongue, and a gift for mischief and misdirection. These were the fifties, a decade that was literally quieter than the sixties. A girl had time for learning to identify pitchblende by sight along with all the other local rocks. Why? This girl simply was curious and had a mind that grew bigger and bigger all the time.

Pittsburgh in the fifties could be considered a much dirtier and rougher place than Dillard presents it, but a memoir is personal, and this is a book about Annie Dillard the person, her family, her schools, her experiences.

I don't know if every reader will respond to An American Childhood as I did because I spent much of my childhood in Pennsylvania in the fifties, too. That enables me to vouch for Dillard's accuracy and might explain my enthusiasm for this book. The other Pennsylvania writer who captures details in Dillard's way is John Updike. His strengths resemble Dillard's. If you like one, you may well like the other.

This book has truly piqued my curiosity about Annie Dillard. I am not just interested in her as a writer, although her work is undoubtedly captivating.

I have a deep desire to get to know the person behind the words. What kind of experiences shaped her? What were her joys and sorrows?

As I read her book, I find myself imagining her life, her thoughts, and her emotions. I wonder what inspired her to write in the way that she does.

Annie Dillard seems to have a unique perspective on the world, and I long to understand it better. I want to know how she sees the beauty and the chaos, the ordinary and the extraordinary.

Perhaps by delving deeper into her life and work, I will gain a new appreciation for the power of words and the art of storytelling.

I look forward to uncovering more about Annie Dillard and learning from her.

I stumbled upon this like a precious local treasure.

It is a Pulitzer-prize winning love letter to her Pittsburgh upbringing in the mid 20th century.

The author has written it with an abundance of wonder and wisdom, not wasting a single word.

Every sentence is carefully crafted to paint a vivid picture of that time and place.

I am truly grateful to have discovered this gem.

It has given me a deeper appreciation for the history and culture of Pittsburgh.

I am now recommending it to all my Pittsburgh neighbors and fellow word nerds.

They will surely be captivated by the beautiful prose and the heartfelt story it tells.

This book is a must-read for anyone who loves Pittsburgh or has a passion for great literature.

It is a timeless piece that will be cherished for generations to come.

A lovely exercise in looking closer for all those (still) scared of growing up. It is a wonderful opportunity for those who are hesitant or afraid to face the challenges and changes that come with growing up. By taking a closer look at the process, we can gain a better understanding and perhaps find some comfort in it.

Growing up can be a daunting task, filled with uncertainties and new experiences. However, it is also a time of great growth and self-discovery. This exercise encourages us to slow down and really examine the details of our lives as we progress through the different stages of growing up.

We can look at the relationships we form, the skills we learn, and the mistakes we make. By doing so, we can see that growing up is not as scary as it may seem. It is a natural and necessary part of life, and by approaching it with an open mind and a willingness to learn, we can make the most of this wonderful journey.

Okay, Dillard, show us what you got.

She bluffs, she holds, she raises the stakes. I have a profound admiration for her broad scope and her precise portraits.

Moreover, her self-consciousness plays a crucial role in this. Her narrator doesn't take herself too seriously when addressing serious topics such as race prejudice, class discrimination, and religious intolerance.

However, Dillard's own limitations remain irksome. Even as she points towards them, on one page, she claims that "Every woman stayed alone in her house in those days, like a coin in a safe." While this may be a marvelous metaphor, it also sets itself up to disappoint. As on the very next page, she writes, "In the back room, where our maid, Margaret Butler, was ironing..."

Okay, at least she gave the maid a name, but did it have to be Butler? And if it did, can Dillard justify it with a story about her ancestors and why they have that name? Or are we supposed to assume that she knows this story and expects us to be smart enough to know it too?

Her facile assertion of "every" woman's condition doesn't inspire faith in her ability to subtlize sub-text. But still, I'm hooked, at least for her voice, and her generosity with gesture, wit, and incidence. Although I could do without the gratuitous glamorization of the gutsy, downtrodden Irish girl down the street.

Either Dillard sets us up for a bait-and-switch, or she's putting her heart on her sleeve: bold, but risky. Will it pay off? Only time will tell.

This is an amazing memoir that is truly American to its core. It presents a story that may not be the most relatable to everyone, especially not to me. However, despite this lack of direct connection, it is definitely an inspiring piece of work. The author's experiences and the way they are presented in the memoir offer valuable insights and lessons. It makes one think about the American spirit and the various challenges and triumphs that come with it. Although I may not have had the exact same experiences as the author, I can still appreciate the courage and determination that is evident throughout the memoir. It serves as a reminder that even in the face of difficulties, one can find inspiration and motivation to keep going. Overall, this memoir is a remarkable read that has the power to touch the hearts and minds of its readers.

Reading Annie Dillard is truly a remarkable experience. It's like quenching your thirst with an ice cold glass of water after a long and tiring hot summer run.

Surprisingly, even though there are decades that separate our childhoods, I was able to discover so many elements of my own upbringing within the pages of this book.

Her descriptions are so whimsical that they bring to life the sounds, smells, and sights of childhood in the Midwest with such vividness and starkness.

I simply loved this book to bits. It has a charm and a power that draws you in and makes you feel as if you are right there in the midst of her childhood memories.

It's a book that I would highly recommend to anyone who is looking for a beautiful and engaging read that will transport them to a different time and place.

I adored this book from start to finish.

First, let me lavish praise on the audiobook narration by Alexandra O'Karma. She reads at a slow pace, in a soft tone, yet every word she utters is crystal clear. She leaves it to the listener to decipher the lines, to detect the subtle humor. Some might argue that she doesn't read with sufficient vigor. However, for me, the gentle tone was a perfect match for the beauty of the lines. Parts of it read like prose poetry, giving you ample time to ponder and reflect.

I loved this book for the profound wisdom of the author. Her insights into growing up, the process, and the path are truly remarkable. She masterfully captures how a child becomes aware of their own individuality. She also captures the sheer joy of youth, whether it's singing at the top of your lungs or "flying down a street" with your arms flailing. I was enraptured by the beauty of the lines and adored the understated humor. There is an abundance of humor, but you have to think like the author to appreciate it. It's not blatant or in-your-face. I also loved this book because, like the author, I am a child of the 50s. She was born in 1945 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, while I was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin in 1951. I firmly believe that readers of our generation will find much in this book that resonates deeply. The book chronicles the author's life from the age of five through her high school years, including her summers on Lake Erie with her grandmother, her hobbies of rock collecting, bicycling, music, and drawing, and later her interests in boys, literature, history, and current events. You get a vivid picture of the history of Pittsburgh, the red scare of the fifties, and the books that we all read. You experience adolescence, which is never an easy time for anyone.

Perhaps this book speaks most powerfully to those of us born in the forties and fifties. For those of us who were raised on books. The books I had at home are mentioned here: The Natural Way to Draw, Field book of ponds and streams; an introduction to the life of fresh water. Bird books. Stone books. Books about nature that sparked a need for a microscope. Art books. Do you know Giacometti’s “Walking Man” statue? The books our parents loved and believed in, which not only shaped them but also us, and then in turn, our kids. Even though our parents' world and now ours has changed, the foundation laid by what came before will always influence how we move forward.

To sum it up: the book is about growing up. It's about being raised in the fifties. It's not just about books, but books, education, and curiosity about life are at its core.

If I could give this book more than five stars, I would without hesitation. It contains some of the most remarkable writing I have ever come across.

It delves into the description of a place, the dynamics of a family, and the rich experience of reading, learning, and uncovering the essence of aliveness.

Surprisingly, it doesn't really have a traditional plot. How is it possible for a book to explore so many profound aspects without relying on a typical storyline?

As I read, I found myself laughing out loud at times, filled with wonder at others, and ultimately, I felt a sense of personal growth.

This book has a unique charm that draws you in and makes you reflect on the beauty and complexity of life. It is a truly special piece of literature that I would highly recommend to anyone.