This memoir was beautiful in that it truly credited the reader with the ability to carry threads through chapters and scenes that were not always linear. It was smartly written and left room to be smartly interpreted. The use of language was sparse yet elegant and moving. Madden used imagery and language in a way that evoked raw emotion. It was brutal yet compassionate and written from a place of love instead of spite – something I truly admire in accounts of painful childhoods. We do love our parents, despite their imperfections and long absences.
I just read The Body Papers by Grace Talusan and am also reading Vida by Patricia Engel – the themes and characters/narrators are very complimentary. I am so inspired by this generation of memoirists.