FEH

A poignant, often amusing memoir about how breaking free of the past and finding a new path is difficult but necessary.

“Feh” is a Yiddish word conveying disapproval or disgust, although a rougher translation is “yuck.” In this peculiar, intriguing memoir, Auslander, author of Foreskin’s Lament and Mother for Dinner, recounts it as an ongoing theme of his childhood and adolescence, a constant refrain from his alcoholic father and his neurotic mother that he was unworthy of affection, love, or even life. The author recounts how the teachers at his religious school reinforced the concept, implanting the idea of a God that was bitterly disappointed in all of humanity prone to random smiting and nasty tricks. Somehow, Auslander finds threads of dark comedy in this material, chronicling his efforts to overcome depression, self-loathing, and embedded guilt. He worries that he will inadvertently pass the poisonous seeds of self-destruction and vague hatred of the world to his beloved wife and children, although they turn out to be more resilient and capable than he expects. Despite stumbles into alcohol and drugs, the author gradually found success as a writer, and he punctuates the book with a range of microstories and outlines, some of which have a Kafkaesque quality—or they would, if Kafka had ever displayed a sense of fun. Auslander was drifting toward the edge of psychological disaster when, in the depth of the Covid-19 crisis, he encountered a series of everyday miracles that helped him find a way back. This isn’t a book for readers who don’t feel comfortable with the questioning of religious doctrine, but most readers will find a certain sense of inspiration in Auslander’s tragicomic struggle and his eventual, unlikely redemption.

A book full of droll humor and offbeat insights, a personal journey that speaks to deep parts of the human condition.