A revelatory letter from a son to his mother. A painful confession about abuse and trauma. A brutally honest commentary on racism, classism, sexism, power and powerlessness in America.
I bought this memoir and casually started reading the first page. After the second sentence, I knew that it was not casual reading material. After the second paragraph, I forced myself to stop reading it because I was not ready to give it my all, and this book demands nothing less than a reader’s all. All of your time. All of your attention. All of your heart. All of your compassion. All of your humanity. I kept it on my bedside table and rearranged two days in my calendar so that I could do nothing but read. I’m a slow reader—and I knew I’d be an even slower reader with this book—but I also knew that I was going to read it from start to finish in one sitting. I needed that second day for reflection, to just sit with everything I’d read.
This book is well-written, well-structured, well-edited: tone, pacing, voice…everything is pitch-perfect and feels easy, natural.