What I loved about this book is this: it presents her parents, with all their faults, and the poor mentality, at its worst, without anger, exasperation, or even really any judgment, just with the quirky love we all view our own childhoods. If she had been bitter in her description it would not have been believable, but instead it was tinged with forgiveness making me respect her for not only surviving such a strange childhood to become a successful, even functioning, adult but for being able to view her past with impartiality.

What was thought-provoking for me was the idea that if you think you're a victim you are and if you don't you're not. As appalling as her mother's reaction was to her troubles, it's true. We do overprotect our children at the price of their own growth sometimes. And in this society we are on the jumpy side when it comes to misconduct, but telling someone they have been victimized isn't always best for them. It's not empowering. We've gone so much to the other extreme that it was good to reconsider a sway more toward center. There has to be a medium where we aren't making children grow up as toddlers but also not sheltering them from making their own decisions until their adults.

There are also a lot of class "poor" mentalities in the book. The way the family never planned for the future as in aimed to use any gift or income to exponentially improve their lives, but horded means until they ran out. They tore down what they had until it ran out. They lived day to day. They took advantage when they could. The old adage that you give a man a fish he'll eat for a day but teach him to fish and he'll eat for a lifetime is moot. They were not concerned with bettering their station in life only getting all they could out of it today.

I found it strange that both parents were so highly intelligent and capable and yet they chose to be homeless. It bothered me that they thought the best existence would be to throw their burdens on society and let it care for them without realizing, or caring, that someone was paying and working for their existence. It bothered me that they didn't think of their children's welfare above their own but used them like they would any other member of society. At times I found my blood boiling at the actions of her parents. That's what dysfunction will do to you.

And yet, she presents the incidents without anger or hurt. It happened. It shaped her glasses of the world. But the past isn't a happy place to live. She took what good she could from her experience (or bad to learn from) and moved determinedly from a childhood she didn't enjoy into an adulthood she could pick. And that's what a memoir should do: show us the past to affect the future, not to give us a place to live.

One of my top 3 favourite books I have ever read to date! It's along the same vein as ANGELA'S ASHES (another favourite by Frank McCourt) and EDUCATED (by Tara Westover) - a memoir about being raised by dysfunctional parents and surviving to tell the tale. Ms. Walls's account of her childhood is at times both heart-wrenching and humorous without asking for pity. If you enjoy reading memoirs, then this book is a MUST-READ!

This was an incredible read!!!!

I listened to the author narrate her own memoir in this audiobook and I am floored. Memoirs like this make you realize just how fortunate you really were.

I loved the way this book was written, easily drawing me in and able to fully envision everything going on. The story itself however, just jaw dropping. It’s like a train wreck you can’t stop staring at no matter how far away you get from it, you just crane your neck to keep on looking. How one kid could go through everything she went through reminds me that not everyone lives that vanilla, safe life.

These parents were unbearable at times. I wanted to reach through my headset and shake them both.

I highly recommend reading this if you like stepping into other peoples lives and gaining some perspective. It’s a highly entertaining listen!

**So I decided to watch the movie after I read this and let me tell you, it does NOT do the memoir justice. Read the book**

Absent any introspection, the author appears to condone the outrageous and often shameful behavior of her parents.

As someone who loves creative nonfiction and also grew up with not-so-great parents, I wish I enjoyed The Glass Castle more, because it has contributed a lot to popularizing the memoir genre. Jeannette Walls details her experience growing up with an alcoholic father and a manic depressive mother along with three siblings. Her recollection includes a ton of wild times, ranging from how she got set on fire to how her family traveled across multiple states to avoid the police. Across her adventures rests a foundational resilience, that she survived poverty and her parents' abuse and neglect and emerged strong enough to write about it and share her story.

I appreciated the honesty in this memoir. Walls shares a massive amount of details about her uncouth childhood, no matter how odd or irreverent. This disclosure makes her upbringing compelling, and it draws people to her tale because we live in a society that does not often promote vulnerability. However, I wanted more from The Glass Castle in terms of structure and introspection. After reading a little bit of the book, I noted that Walls listed various events in her life one after the other, with no real organization other than monotonous chronology. The memoir also lacked the self-reflection I prefer in creative nonfiction. Yes, all of these dramatic things happened, but what did Walls take away from them? How could she portray the unhealthful behavior of her parents without glorifying them? How did she heal from these experiences? Walls could have addressed these questions and more with just a bit of self-generated insight, instead of only delineating her life as a series of plot points.

Though I did not love The Glass Castle, I am glad that it resonated with so many readers. I preferred the coming-of-age memoir n  An Abbreviated Lifen by Ariel Leve, with its concise and vivid prose that displays the author's struggles and self-awareness. Again, happy that this memoir appeals to folk and stirs interest in the memoir genre - we could use more works with a similar level of vulnerability and courage.

MARCH 2017 UPDATE: There will be a film starring Brie Larson as Ms. Walls, Naomi Watts as her mother, and Woody Harrellson as her father, released at some as-yet unnannounced date in 2017.

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: The Glass Castle is a remarkable memoir of resilience and redemption, and a revelatory look into a family at once deeply dysfunctional and uniquely vibrant. When sober, Jeannette's brilliant and charismatic father captured his children's imagination, teaching them physics, geology, and how to embrace life fearlessly. But when he drank, he was dishonest and destructive. Her mother was a free spirit who abhorred the idea of domesticity and didn't want the responsibility of raising a family.

The Walls children learned to take care of themselves. They fed, clothed, and protected one another, and eventually found their way to New York. Their parents followed them, choosing to be homeless even as their children prospered.

The Glass Castle is truly astonishing--a memoir permeated by the intense love of a peculiar but loyal family.

My Review: Oh. My. God.

Walls has a non-fiction novel coming out this month, so I decided to re-read the book that started all the ruckus before I got to Half-Broke Horses.

A little backstory: I was romantically involved with a man for some time while I lived in Austin, whom I met on a bus. I got on the bus, sat a few seats behind the cute, sandy-haired, rumpled guy with the prominent ears I spotted from the pay-stile, and sighed the happy sigh of one whose world contains all the things he needs: A job, a home, and all the men he can mentally undress and ravish.

I was mid-mental ravishment when Blondie upset the applecart by bursting into tears. As quietly as he could, of course, but tears. A stop later, still crying. Stop after that, still crying. I got up, moved into the seat next to him across the aisle, and said, "What the hell're you reading? I wanna be sure I never set an eyeball on it." That got a laugh, and he held up The Glass Castle and said it was sort of the story of his life.

We talked for four hours that day. I gave him my email and number, and things progressed pretty smoothly until August 2008, but that's another story.

He'd just read Walls's tale of her father taking her pubescent self to a pool-hall and getting her within an inch of getting raped, just so he'd have beer money. It struck a chord, and the story of his own stepfather's abuses of Mr. Man came spewing out of him. I've read the book before just now, specifically so I could discuss it with Mr. Man, but I did so with an already numbed horror bone and a severed humor tendon.

Only now that I am several years beyond that initial encounter with the book can I see how very funny the tragic events in it are, and were to the author. I can see that it's gallows humor of a sort...but also that it's all perfect proof that life's a Zen joke.

If you can chuckle at Dolly Parton's apercu, "You have no idea how much it costs to look this cheap," then Walls is the next step up the Sisyphean slope of learning how to laugh like the Dalai Lama. It's a hard life that etches grooves in the looking-glass, but it's a path worth taking if you can get to the place where "textured" is valued more than smooth. Read the book, you'll know what I mean.

'Where are we going, Dad?' I asked, 'Wherever we end up.' he said.

This book has sat on my bedside table for too long. I meant to read it last year. I don't know why I dithered, but I'm so glad I finally picked it up. I binged it. Like a dessert, you can't eat quickly enough or too much of, I gorged myself.

In the spirit of truth is often stranger than fiction, Jeanette Walls details her childhood in chapters of vignettes. Although each scene often belies belief, they coalesce to chronicle a journey that begins with a youthful naivety full of adventure and dreams, 'I'm going to build a glass castle', through to a dawning realisation that the parents you trusted and believed omnipotent, are in fact human; are in fact fallible. As Jeanette and her siblings grow older, her eyes are widened to the reality of her family and the impoverished lifestyle her parents have chosen, as well as the unfairness, the meanness, and the brokenness of it all. Eventually, with age, comes a decision to make decisions and a life for herself, independent of how she'd been raised; independent of her parents.

This memoir is action-packed and will have you turning pages until the end. I know it was made into a movie but I can't imagine how a movie could adequately depict the evocative words Walls paints her story with. This will definitely become one of my 'go-to' recommendations to others.

'Life is a drama full of tragedy and comedy', Mom told me. 'You should learn to enjoy the comic episodes a little more.'

5★
“We climbed through a hole in the chain-link fence he had discovered that morning and ran into the iceberg-lettuce farm next to the apartment building. I followed him through the rows of big green leaves, and we eventually settled down to feast, burying our faces in the huge wet heads of lettuce and eating until our stomachs ached.”

I have never been that hungry. Jeannette and her little brother were starving most of their lives. So were the other two children. But this wasn’t wartime or the depression or a third-world country – this was the United States in the Swinging Sixties. Who knew? JFK, for one.

“Dad said bad times had come in the fifties. They hit hard and stayed. President John F. Kennedy had come to Welch [West Virginia] not long after he was elected and personally handed out the nation's first food stamps here on McDowell Street, to prove his point that—though ordinary Americans might find it hard to believe—starvation-level poverty existed right in their own country.”

Okay, that was West Virginia, where her dad grew up - coal country, poor miners. I did know about their plight. But the lettuce feast was in Blythe, California, near the Arizona border, when Jeannette was 6. There was work, and both parents were capable of working, but neither of them could stand being tied down for long.

Before Blythe, they’d settled for a spell in the desert. As they were driving through, her mother had spotted a Joshua tree and demanded that they pull up immediately so she could paint it – right then, no arguments.

“While she was setting out her easel, Dad drove up the road to see what was ahead. He found a scattering of parched little houses, trailers settling into the sand, and shacks with rusty tin roofs. It was called Midland. One of the little houses had a for-rent sign. ‘What the hell,’ Dad said, ‘this place is as good as any other.’”

Both parents were mad, crazy, and neglectful. Not evil, just selfish. Mother was absolutely driven to paint and ignored everyone when she was creating. She resented having children depend on her.

Father was a creative, obviously intelligent man, probably bi-polar, who drank. Sometimes there was food, sometimes not, and school lunches were whatever could be scavenged from the rubbish when nobody was looking.

BUT, Jeannette knew her father loved her and loved listening to him explain things. He philosophised a lot, and I could find myself nodding in agreement. When he’s sober, he's inventive.

“Everybody said Dad was a genius. He could build or fix anything. One time when a neighbor's TV set broke, Dad opened the back and used a macaroni noodle to insulate some crossed wires.”

He also coached them to make them strong, prepare them for the world.

“Sometimes he made me do my arithmetic homework in binary numbers because he said I needed to be challenged. Before class, I'd have to recopy it into Arabic numbers, but one day I didn't have time, so I turned in the assignment in its binary version.”

Of course Jeannette got into trouble. “She made me stay late and redo the homework. I didn't tell Dad, because I knew he'd come to school to debate Miss Page about the virtues of various numeric systems.”

It’s one heck of a life and the author tells her story exceptionally well. I think everything comes through – the torn loyalties, the fights, the terror, the suffering, the bleakness of winter, the love. She and her older sister loved to read. Lori read to escape, but not Jeannette.

“I didn't want to be transported to another world. My favorite books all involved people dealing with hardships. I loved The Grapes of Wrath, Lord of the Flies, and especially A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. I thought Francie Nolan and I were practically identical, except that she had lived fifty years earlier in Brooklyn and her mother always kept the house clean. Francie Nolan's father sure reminded me of Dad. If Francie saw the good in her father, even though most people considered him a shiftless drunk, maybe I wasn't a complete fool for believing in mine. Or trying to believe in him. It was getting harder.”

The author mentions it, but I'd like to stress that Betty Smith, the author of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, was born in 1896, so her story (she was Francie Nolan) took place between about 1900 and the beginning of World War One. Living conditions then were a far cry from most of America in the 1960s.

I loved this. It’s beautifully written, the author came out of it okay, so it feels like happily ever after. But, I couldn’t help thinking about all the people on the fringes who are living so rough now, NOT by choice but by necessity. Jeannette's parents chose their nomadic lifestyle, strange as it was. I don’t think there’s any excuse for children to starve in America (or Australia, where I live) today, but I bet many are. (Don’t get me started on refugees and displaced peoples.)

No wonder it was a best-seller for so long. It's sure to become a classic in the same vein as A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and Angela's Ashes and, more recently, Educated.

I'll add a couple of photos because I was curious about how things turned out, so I assume others may be.

2013: Her mother, Rose Mary, with Jeannette, in the cottage Rose Mary lives in on Jeannette's farm


2017 Rose Mary and Jeannette

It’s been awhile since a book has made me feel so much ❤️‍

Not for me.

I struggled to believe these anecdotes. Not casting aspersions on the author, just saying, they stretched my credulity. Sure, there are terrible parents in the world, but three-year-olds don't tend to speak well enough to explain their procedures for making hot dogs. That kind of thing.

Also, the general glibness of the narrative rubbed me the wrong way. Each anecdote more or less amounted to: "Wow guys, I had a crazy childhood didn't I?" This strikes me as a missed opportunity with a harrowing collection of stories like this one.

Lots of people love this book. I am not one of them.

I don't think this book needs more reviews, but here goes: I came to this book after reading Half Broke Horses, the prequel. I loved both books. Walls has the ability to make you feel like you are in the room with her, that she is relaying her story to you only, that you are getting to know her intimately. She lets you in, in an honest way. I did not want either book to end.

If you have not read this, you should. I am sure everyone can find something in it to relate to, and if nothing else, it will teach you to be more compassionate toward those who have mental issues or who simply have trouble fitting into society's square pegs. Bravo to the children who were able to lift themselves above, to separate when necessary but retain the love of family, even at the end. This book honors those who fall between the cracks but who don't get fully lost.

I know there is some criticism for her apparent total recall. But there are some folks with photographic memories. She also had siblings who I am sure filled in details. If dialog is somewhat made up from the brief strands she remembered, it doesn't take away from the hard facts.

Read Half-Broke Horses too, if you loved this one. I have to see the movie now.

Jeannette Walls

Journalist and author Jeannette Walls had a wildly dysfunctional childhood, but was able to escape her chaotic home and help rescue her younger siblings.

*****

Jeannette's father, Rex Walls, was a ruggedly handsome, brilliant, and charismatic man. However, he was a selfish alcoholic and gambler who could never keep a job as an electrician/engineer for more than a few months. Rex would tell his family to pack at a moment's notice ("You can only take one thing") and frequently hustled them from one dilapidated hovel to another, which he called "doing the skedaddle."


Rex Walls

Rex told his kids he was on the run from the FBI, but was really fleeing from bill collectors. For decades, Rex said he was 'rooting out corruption in the unions' and perfecting an invention, called 'The Prospector' - which would separate gold from dross. When fortune struck, Rex planned to build a 'Glass Castle', a fairy tale abode for the family.....which he was designing himself.

Jeannette's mother, Rose Mary Walls, was a carefree, hippy-dippy artist - and sometimes teacher - who had her head so high in the clouds that earthly concerns like feeding, bathing, educating, and nurturing her four children (Lori, Jeannette, Brian, and Maureen) were hardly on her radar. If the kids had problems or concerns, Rose Mary assured them that 'hardship fosters strength' and blithely went on her way. When the youngsters were hungry, they had to fend for themselves IF there was even food in the house.....which was rare.


Rose Mary and Rex Walls on their wedding day


Rose Mary and Rex Walls and three of their children

Having to feed herself, three-year-old Jeannette was cooking hotdogs one afternoon when she went up in flames. Rose Mary swaddled the blazing child in a blanket and, courtesy of a neighbor, rushed her to the hospital. The Walls family, which usually avoided scrutiny from the outside world, was subject to negative judgment from doctors and social workers.....who expressed their concerns.

This infuriated Rex, who already had issues with doctors, lawyers, bankers, businessmen, etc. (people we now call 'the one percenters'). Moreover, Rex disapproved of Jeannette's medical treatment and - using his toddler Brian to create a distraction - mounted a skedaddle to rescue Jeannette from the hospital (and probably skip out on medical bills). This may have contributed to the permanent scars on Jeannette's torso.

During Jeannette's turbulent childhood, she witnessed Rex toss the family cat out of a moving car and drown a batch of kittens, which he did nonchalantly, without regret. Rex taught his young kids to shoot guns; launch arrows; and throw knives. He encouraged little Jeannette to pet a cheetah at the zoo (which got the family thrown out), and - not having money for proper gifts - gave the children 'stars' (in the sky) for Christmas.


Young Jeannette Walls

As a result of the family pinging from one town to another, Jeannette met a hodgepodge of kids, many of whom were roughhewn delinquents. One time, when the Walls were living in Phoenix, Arizona, a boy named Billy took a shine to Jeannette, and - thinking she liked him back - forced a kiss and tried to do more. When Billy was rejected, he showed up with a bebe gun and the resulting scuffle - involving a REAL gun wielded by Jeannette- necessitated another hasty skedaddle.

After traipsing around the Southwest for years, the Walls family was penniless and desperate. Therefore - against Rex's VOCIFEROUS objections - Rose Mary insisted the family move to Rex's home town of Welsh, West Virginia. There the Walls' lived with Rex's hillbilly parents and brother for a time, resulting in (relatively minor, but troubling) physical and sexual abuse....perhaps providing a clue to Rex's turbulent personality.

When they'd lived in Welsh for several months , Rex and Rose Mary found an old wreck of a house at '93 Little Hobart Street', and moved the family there. The house had no toilets or heat, and was almost unbearable in winter. The kids started to excavate a foundation for the 'Glass Castle', but the large depression soon became a stinking garbage pit. School was a trial as well. Jeannette was dirty; smelled bad; had raggedy clothes; and usually had no food for lunch. On top of that, she was much smarter than her classmates. Thus, she was bullied by schoolmates and even some teachers.


93 Little Hobart Street

One time, when Jeannette was fourteen, Rex took her to a bar and encouraged a fellow patron to dance with his underage daughter, and even take her up to his apartment - while Rex hustled money for drinks. Jeannette was almost raped, but managed to escape. The girl was furious with her father, who was nonchalant and blasé, saying "I knew you could take care of yourself." (This pimping out of his daughter is Rex's most outrageous behavior IMO.)

Whenever the family got a little money, Rex usually spent it on alcohol and cigarettes.....though the kids were starving. On one occasion, the children amassed a good bit of 'Piggy Bank' money by mowing lawns; babysitting; tutoring; doing other kids' homework; and so on - to finance their eventual escape to New York City. Rex found and stole their savings. Nevertheless, oldest sister Lori headed for New York the day she graduated high school, and was followed by Jeannette when she completed the 11th grade. Later, the girls sent for their younger siblings, Brian and Maureen.

Some years later, when all the Walls children were established in New York, Rex and Rose Mary showed up, and - after exhausting visiting privileges with their children - became homeless squatters in a downtown tenement. Luckily, Rex was able to (illegally) rig up electricity from a power line, but the couple became dumpster divers to survive.....despite their children's offers of assistance.

Some years later, when all the Walls children were established in New York, Rex and Rose Mary showed up, and - after exhausting visiting privileges with their children - became homeless squatters in a downtown tenement. Luckily, Rex was able to (illegally) rig up electricity from a power line, but the couple became dumpster divers to survive.....despite their children's offers of assistance.




Rex and Rose Mary Walls in their later years


Rose Mary and Jeannette Walls


Rose Mary and Jeannette Walls

The really remarkable thing about all this is that Jeannette continued to adore and idolize her father, though she deplored his behavior. Jeannette's attitude toward her mother seems more ambivalent. She apparently blamed Rose Mary for not taking the kids and making a run for it, but - nevertheless - showed her mother kindness and consideration.

Though Jeannette's story is bleak, it has lighter moments. During a stint of relative prosperity, Rex bought Rose Mary a piano. To get the heavy instrument into the house, Rex rigged up a system of ropes that attached to the piano in the front yard, threaded through the house and out the back door, and were tied to the family car. Rose Mary was supposed to gently nose the car forward, pulling the piano into the house. However, she hit the gas hard and hauled the piano through the entire house and into the backyard, where it stayed from then on.

This is a remarkable story of resilience in the face of adversity, and kids with less intelligence, spunk, and drive than the Walls' youngsters may not have fared as well.

This memoir, which has been on the New York Times best seller list since it's publication in 2005, was made into the 2017 movie 'The Glass Castle.' The film, though a clearly recognizable adaptation of the book, gives the story a 'fairy tale' touch that's a bit disingenuous IMO. Still, it's a good movie.




Movie posters for 'The Glass Castle'

This is a well-written, riveting book, highly recommended to readers who enjoy memoirs.



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