The Glass Castle: A Memoir
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- ISBN13: 9781439156964
- Condition: NEW
- Notes: Brand New from Publisher. No Remainder Mark.
Product Description
Jeannette Walls grew up with parents whose ideals and stubborn eccentricity were both their curse and their salvation. Rex and Rose Mary Walls had four children. In the beginning, they lived like nomads, moving among Southwest desert towns, camping in the mountains. Rex was a charismatic, brilliant man who, when sober, captured his children’s imagination, teaching them physics, geology, and above all, how to embrace life fearlessly. Rose Mary, who painted and wrote and couldn’t stand the responsibility of providing for her family tree, called herself an “excitement addict.” Cooking a meal that would be consumed in fifteen minutes had no appeal when she could make a painting that might last forever.
Later, when the money ran out, or the romance of the wandering life faded, the Walls retreated to the dismal West Virginia mining town — and the family tree — Rex Walls had done everything he could to escape. He drank. He stole the grocery money and disappeared for days. As the dysfunction of the family tree escalated, Jeannette and her brother and sisters had to fend for themselves, supporting one another as they weathered their parents’ betrayals and, finally, establish the resources and will to place home.
What is so astonishing about Jeannette Walls is not just that she had the guts and tenacity and intelligence to get out, but that she describes her parents with such deep affection and generosity. Hers is a tale of triumph against all odds, but also a tender, moving tale of unconditional like in a family tree that despite its profound flaws gave her the fiery determination to carve out a successful life on her own terms.
For two decades, Jeannette Walls hid her roots. Now she tells her own tale. A regular contributor to MSNBC.com, she lives in New York and Long Island and is married to the writer John Taylor.Amazon.com Review
Jeannette Walls’s father permanently called her “Mountain Goat” and there’s perhaps no more apt nickname for a girl who navigated a sheer and towering cliff of childhood both daily and stoically. In The Glass Castle, Walls chronicles her upbringing at the hands of eccentric, nomadic parents–Rose Mary, her frustrated-artist mother, and Rex, her brilliant, alcoholic father. To call the elder Walls’s childrearing style laissez faire would be putting it mildly. As Rose Mary and Rex, motivated by whims and paranoia, uprooted their kids time and again, the youngsters (Walls, her brother and two sisters) were left largely to their own devices. But while Rex and Rose Mary firmly believed children learned best from their own mistakes, they themselves never seemed to do so, repeating the same disastrous patterns that eventually landed them on the streets. Walls describes in fascinating detail what it was to be a child in this family tree, from the embarrassing (wearing shoes held together with safety pins; using markers to color her skin in an effort to concealment holes in her pants) to the horrific (being told, after a creepy uncle pleasured himself in close proximity, that sexual assault is a crime of perception; and being pimped by her father at a bar). Though Walls has well earned the right to complain, at no point does she play the victim. In fact, Walls’ removed, nonjudgmental stance is initially startling, since many of the circumstances she describes could be categorized as abusive (and unquestioningly neglectful). But on the contrary, Walls respects her parents’ knack for building hardships feel like adventures, and her like for them–despite their overwhelming self-absorption–resonates from take in to take in. –Brangien Davis
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The nomadic life of these children reminded me of my sister’s large faimly, moving around all for the sake of religion. They, too, went to New York City from Westminster, Maryland, to church convention-type meetings. Jeannnette’s mother, father, and three kids spent a month in Las Vages in one motel room. From ther they ventured out to a West Virginia mining town, nothing as poor as that area unless you are stranded out in the desert somewhere out West.
As they wandered around like nomads, her mother bought a cut crystal vase on layaway because “she felt like th surest way to feel rich was to invest in quality ‘nonessentials.’” It’s sad to be that poor. Jeannette rode the Greyhound to New York City and describes her first impression: “a huge island jammed tip to tip with skyscrapers.”
She grew up thinking of herself as a tall, gangly girl from Appalachia, ‘all elbows and knees and jutting teeth.’ Her dad had convinced her to judge in her inner beauty. “I hoped when the New Yorkers looked at me, they would see whatever it was that Dad saw.” Like all men, he was a liar. She described herself thusly, “I was six feet all, pale as a frog’s underbelly, and had bright red hair.”
It seems she had an inferiority complex from the beginning, despised the way her teeth stuck straight out, and chose she would make her own braces. At my dad’s funeral, Elsie’s teeth did the same, so I questioned her son “What is incorrect with your mother’s mouth?” He said she had place on too much poli-grip. Her new dentures were too loose. If you get the cheap ones (none are free) at the Health Department, they never fit. Persons volunteer dentists don’t make impressions, and the dentures are all a modified (tiny, medium and large) size so you have to use lots of poli-grip. She looked like a rabbit.
Out in Welch, Arizona, Cindy Thompson tried to recruit Jeannette to join the junior KKK. At one of their marches around the public square of Pulaski, a nice-looking man carrying a baby leading his wife and tiny children stopped and questioned me shere the fire hall was located. I said, “Right down that hill,” pointing to the right, “but the police have it blocked off and they can’t come up here (to the Square). It turned out that he was the one chosen to lead that year’s parade, so they came up Jefferson as a replacement for of Madison. The place was so full of outside police, state and various counties, it looked like we were in Nazi Germany or a police state, with the helicopters floating over the scene.
“My mom will talk to anyone,” remarked Justin to his friends. I’d just taken a picture of the design on the back of a skinhead’s black leather jacket (with permission). Persons weird fellows told me they were all Vet Nam vets. One had the audacity to say he’d been in the Persian Gulf war. Rumor has it that, they thought tiny town people would judge anything if they had the courage (or stupidity) to be watching as the Klans from Arkansas, Chicago and places far away paraded around carrying the Rebel flag. I took photos of their colorful outfits: purple, green and various shades, not all white.
Jeannette had a very sad life on the road and permanently held her hand over her mouth when she laughed. There are lots of Jeannette’s out there, with no one to help and no dental work to make them look as excellent as the rich kid on the block. Her family tree increased when a brother was born before she was able to convince her mother to place her dad who stayed away more and more and spent all of the family tree income on gambling and drinking.
She now lives in New York and is one of the regulars on MSNBC (where John Seigenhalter from Nashville, Tennessee reigns supreme). Excellent for you, John. She is married to John Taylor, a writer. I’m grateful for her fighting spirit and willingness to broadcast far and wide how sordid life can be in the United States for poor children.
Reader’s Rating: 3 / 5
I am very disappointed with the frequent and needless use of profanity in this book! It may be the words that her father used, but I am offended reading them in print. In many instances, they were not needed – I ongoing just crossing them out – but by page 59, I have realized the book is unindated with them and I might as well dispose of it in my circular file (wastebasket). In leafing through the book, I also noticed that the print from page 245 to 260 is faded to nearly unreadble proportions! I wish that I had not left a positive feedback before I had read the book. I am sorry that I wasted $15 on this book.The Glass Castle: A Memoir
Reader’s Rating: 1 / 5
I feel terrible that Jeanette Walls had such a terrible childhood. Mine wasn’t the best either, so perhaps that is why I have place the book aside before I finished it.
Reader’s Rating: 1 / 5
I just want to let everyone know…this is a excellent book, worth to buy.
Reader’s Rating: 5 / 5
I bought this book more that a week ago and still have not recieved book. I will miss book club this month. oh well.
Reader’s Rating: 1 / 5