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While I'm not usually into memoirs, this is really a beautifully written remembrance of his mother. What makes it beautiful is its honesty. Russo steps back enough in the narrative that it almost reads like fiction--we watch love mixed with guilt and manipulation, with a complexity that I think most people will recognize.

“It was from my mother that I learned that reading was not a duty, but a reward, and from her that I intuited a vital truth: most people are trapped in a solitary existence, a life circumscribed by want and failures of imagination, limitations from which readers are exempt.” (156)

Scored a bunch of Russo tomes at a Leisure World LFL and some rather old aquavit and Swedish brandy in my dearly departed Grampy‘s liquor cabinet. Shockingly, I received NO BOOKS for Christmas so I figured I was allowed to go scope out all the LFLs at Leisure World 😂.

Last week, Ann Patchett recommended Russo‘s memoir of his life with his mother. It‘s a very relatable tale for those who have a parent who is codependent with mental illness and anxiety. But you can also feel the genuine affection he feels for his mom and empathy for the scarcity mindset her childhood during the Great Depression brought. It wasn‘t a home run for me, but a worthy #BorrowNotBuy. The audio is great! 👍🏻👍🏻

This was a little different than I was expecting. I wanted a memoir focusing on growing up in a small town, which the beginning touched on. It then morphed into a memoir about Russo's mother, their relationship, and her idiosyncrasies. Eventually at the end it even dealt with mental illness and its effects. There was quit w a lot to touch on and truthfully, it was difficult to like Russo's mom. I'm anxious to read more of his books now.

Everyone's been posting about Richard Russo lately so I thought I would share my pick. I loved this memoir about Russo's relationship with his mother...their mother-son bond was complicated in a very human way.