by Roland Merullo ‧ RELEASE DATE: Jan. 17, 2002
No mystery and no surprises here, but touching affirmation of the anchoring value of family and home.
A gentle autobiography in which the author's search for self often takes the form of a spiritual quest for goodness.
Fans of Merullo’s novel, Revere Beach Boulevard (1998), should be aware that this is not a continuation of that Italian underworld saga. Instead, it’s a memoir featuring a realistic and affectionate portrait of Revere Beach, a working-class town located five miles outside of Boston with a reputation for toughness and family loyalty similar to that of Brooklyn. The town figures prominently in the chapters of heartfelt, sentimental musings about Merullo’s second-generation Italian-American father, whose life was dictated by pride and discipline and whose gruff exterior masked the grief still felt for a first wife who died in childbirth. And Revere Beach remains an influence throughout the author's life, whether he’s undergoing humbling experiences at the elite Exeter Academy, driving a cab in Boston, studying in the former Soviet Union, serving as an idealistic Peace Corps volunteer in Micronesia, or vacationing with his family in Italy. At times, Merullo's ruminations seem a little too self-absorbed, but he comes across as a likable person whose struggles and identity crises are more accessible to the reader than those of most celebrities or historical figures. He goes full circle by visiting his grandmother's girlhood village in Italy, but his desire to travel, perhaps to escape for a little while, remains. “You follow the line of your particular fate,” he ultimately concludes, “a fate built partly on your soul's unique essence, and partly of your class and place and time.” Through precise dialogue and musical narration, Merullo creates a vivid word picture of sights, sounds, and emotions.
No mystery and no surprises here, but touching affirmation of the anchoring value of family and home.Pub Date: Jan. 17, 2002
ISBN: 0-8070-7244-3
Page Count: 216
Publisher: Beacon Press
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Nov. 1, 2001
Share your opinion of this book
More by Roland Merullo
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
by Elie Wiesel & translated by Marion Wiesel ‧ RELEASE DATE: Jan. 16, 2006
The author's youthfulness helps to assure the inevitable comparison with the Anne Frank diary although over and above the...
Elie Wiesel spent his early years in a small Transylvanian town as one of four children.
He was the only one of the family to survive what Francois Maurois, in his introduction, calls the "human holocaust" of the persecution of the Jews, which began with the restrictions, the singularization of the yellow star, the enclosure within the ghetto, and went on to the mass deportations to the ovens of Auschwitz and Buchenwald. There are unforgettable and horrifying scenes here in this spare and sombre memoir of this experience of the hanging of a child, of his first farewell with his father who leaves him an inheritance of a knife and a spoon, and of his last goodbye at Buchenwald his father's corpse is already cold let alone the long months of survival under unconscionable conditions.
Pub Date: Jan. 16, 2006
ISBN: 0374500010
Page Count: 120
Publisher: Hill & Wang
Review Posted Online: Oct. 7, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 2006
Share your opinion of this book
More by Elie Wiesel
BOOK REVIEW
by Elie Wiesel ; edited by Alan Rosen
BOOK REVIEW
by Elie Wiesel ; illustrated by Mark Podwal
BOOK REVIEW
by Elie Wiesel ; translated by Marion Wiesel
by Jon Krakauer ‧ RELEASE DATE: Jan. 1, 1996
A wonderful page-turner written with humility, immediacy, and great style. Nothing came cheap and easy to McCandless, nor...
The excruciating story of a young man on a quest for knowledge and experience, a search that eventually cooked his goose, told with the flair of a seasoned investigative reporter by Outside magazine contributing editor Krakauer (Eiger Dreams, 1990).
Chris McCandless loved the road, the unadorned life, the Tolstoyan call to asceticism. After graduating college, he took off on another of his long destinationless journeys, this time cutting all contact with his family and changing his name to Alex Supertramp. He was a gent of strong opinions, and he shared them with those he met: "You must lose your inclination for monotonous security and adopt a helter-skelter style of life''; "be nomadic.'' Ultimately, in 1992, his terms got him into mortal trouble when he ran up against something—the Alaskan wild—that didn't give a hoot about Supertramp's worldview; his decomposed corpse was found 16 weeks after he entered the bush. Many people felt McCandless was just a hubris-laden jerk with a death wish (he had discarded his map before going into the wild and brought no food but a bag of rice). Krakauer thought not. Admitting an interest that bordered on obsession, he dug deep into McCandless's life. He found a willful, reckless, moody boyhood; an ugly little secret that sundered the relationship between father and son; a moral absolutism that agitated the young man's soul and drove him to extremes; but he was no more a nutcase than other pilgrims. Writing in supple, electric prose, Krakauer tries to make sense of McCandless (while scrupulously avoiding off-the-rack psychoanalysis): his risky behavior and the rites associated with it, his asceticism, his love of wide open spaces, the flights of his soul.
Pub Date: Jan. 1, 1996
ISBN: 0-679-42850-X
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Villard
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 1995
Share your opinion of this book
More by Jon Krakauer
BOOK REVIEW
by Jon Krakauer
BOOK REVIEW
by Jon Krakauer
BOOK REVIEW
by Jon Krakauer
More About This Book
SEEN & HEARD
© Copyright 2024 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Hey there, book lover.
We’re glad you found a book that interests you!
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Trouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Trouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Don’t fret. We’ll find you.