Showing posts with label autobiography. Show all posts
Showing posts with label autobiography. Show all posts

The Journal of Scott Pendleton Collins: A World War II Soldier, Normandy, France, 1944 (My Name is America: A Dear America Book) Review

The Journal of Scott Pendleton Collins: A World War II Soldier, Normandy, France, 1944 (My Name is America: A Dear America Book)
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This book is about a 17 year old boy in the middle of WWII. Hefinds himself in one of the worst battles in the war. He must fightin the now famouse D-day battle. He lands one the baech and must fight through the watter. All the while watching people infront beside and behind him be killed or wounded. This book is a reminder of how bad war rally is. The horror this boy must face to make it through. This book has great deatail, but not too much of it. I am a 12 year old boy and am reading this book for the third time, still finding things i had missed or forgotten before. I really loved this book. I recommend it for readers of all ages. A trully Amazing book.

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The Day the Voices Stopped: A Schizophrenic's Journey from Madness to Hope Review

The Day the Voices Stopped: A Schizophrenic's Journey from Madness to Hope
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As a person who was also diagnosed with schizophrenia, (though I never heard voices), I found this a fascinating account of another person's journey from breakdown to recovery. The greatest strength of this book is the way in which the authors interwove the tyranny of the voices Ken Steele heard with the events of his life. The book gave me a clear understanding of how nightmarish it must be to live with a constant chorus of psychotic voices harassing you and insulting you from morning until night. Next, what struck me powerfully was the completely inhumane treatment Mr. Steele received from the mental health establishment. During the initial months of his first hospitalization Mr. Steele was locked up in isolation and given so much medication he couldn't move, not even to go to the bathroom. He peed and pooped where he was and attendants hosed him off to get him clean. Subsequently, in other hospitalizations he continued to be subjected to serious overdoses of medication. He was locked in seclusion rooms for extended periods of time, threatened and ultimately gang raped by other patients, and at one point locked in a closet for days on end. During the course of this book Ken Steele speculates that the cause of his illness was entirely biochemical and that his recovery took place solely as a consequence of the new medications he took later on in his life. But I felt that there was no way that his family life could not have had some influence on the outbreak and course of his illness. From the beginning it is clear that his parents have little interest in him, and that he is largely being brought up by his grandmother. When it became clear that he was suffering from a severe mental illness, his parents did nothing about it. And when he later ran into trouble and ended up hospitalized, his parents didn't even bother to visit him or concern themselves with his situation even though they were fully informed of what was happenening to him. When it came to Ken Steele's recovery, medication may have been a part of it, but it is indisputable that before he decided to take the medication, he had come to the point where he made the choice to be responsible for himself, to stop playing games and lying to himself and other people. In other accounts of people with mental illness, this moment of decision, the decision to take personal responsibility for oneself, is pivotal to any meaningful kind of recovery. And Ken made that recovery, and more than just recoverying, he went on to advocate for psychiatric patients such as himself and play a significant role in improving the lives of others. Suffering greatly, struggling greatly, recovering heroically, Ken Steele is without self pity, and through this book, continuing to give to others, even after his death.

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The Last Time I Wore A Dress Review

The Last Time I Wore A Dress
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Daphne Scholinski wore the label of "inappropriate female" for much of her life. As a tomboy youth, she was often mistaken for male. On one grocery trip, a clerk caught the "boy" for using the women's restroom. When the clerk confronted Daphne's father, instead of correcting the clerk, her weary father slapped her hand: "Bad boy. I told you to stop doing that."
In 1981, at odds with her raging father and abandoned by her free-thinking mother, 15-year-old Daphne was committed to a psychiatric hospital, at which a treatment plan was designed to help her identify as a "sexual female." Over one million dollars (you read that right) of insurance money was spent on three years of make-up lessons, encouragement of flirtation with males, and points for hugging male staff members. Daphne was indirectly blamed for all her family's troubles and told that her depression and confusion were symptoms of her improper gender identification. Desperate for a mothering relationship, she latched onto nurses, begging to be adopted by the most compassionate one, and attempting suicide when her efforts were rebuffed.
In a series of institutions, Daphne busied herself working the system to earn more privileges. To entertain themselves, she and other patients competed to shock the staff and get unusual diagnoses added to their charts. Their every movement was already analyzed and reduced into psychobabble, so why not? Daphne often embellished alcohol and drug abuse to make her case more interesting, but she realized she was out her league when she was transferred to rehab. All the while, a host of therapists and staff failed to identify sexual assault in Daphne's life, both before and *after* entering treatment. At age 18, when Daphne's father's insurance money ran out, she was discharged as no more "appropriate" a female than when she entered, but without a traditional high school experience or preparation for the world, and a few more years of victimhood under her belt.
Daphne Scholinski survived institutionalization with her intelligence, sense of humor, and sassy rebellious spirit. Every time she was transferred, she felt hope few her new situation. She writes that she knows she was lucky to be middle-class and be offered treatment, instead of being kicked onto the streets. As an adult, Daphne channeled her traumatic past into an artistic career, and now lives as Dylan Scholinski in the San Francisco area (Dylan's identification as male occurred after the 1997 publication of this memoir). I only discovered Scholinski's gender identity when I started composing my review, and in many ways, Daphne's "actual" gender identity is irrelevant to this story of the failure of the mental health system to help a depressed youth and her family.

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At 15, Daphne Scholinski was committed to a mental institution and awarded the dubious diagnosis of "Gender Identity Disorder". "The voice of Daphne's teenage self--bewildered, frank, aching, and defiant--is so vivid it's like hearing a confidence whispered across a dormitory room deep in the night".--"Harper's Bazaar".

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Running the Books: The Adventures of an Accidental Prison Librarian Review

Running the Books: The Adventures of an Accidental Prison Librarian
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This was not the book I expected.
I'm not totally sure what I expected, but I think it was something funny: something about a librarian hanging out with pimps and drug dealers, scattering literature across the infertile soil of a prison's worth of undereducated, life-hardened, embittered minds. I was looking for some uplift, here, something about how books can save even the toughest cases.
What I got instead was reality. Avi Steinberg, who falls into prison librarianhood mainly because he is avoiding the expectations of his strict Orthodox Jewish upbringing (Doctor or lawyer or rabbi, oh my!) but not making enough money as a freelance obituary writer (Another career I never really thought existed, though of course it does), does indeed hang out with pimps and drug dealers, but it isn't really funny. These are not the cartoonish pimps that floated through my mind, a cornucopia of platform shoes and ostrich feather hats and 70's jive lingo; these are actual hustlers, men who make their living off of the exploitation of women, men who are cold and calculating and violent no matter how charming they appear. And because they are human beings, they are also emotionally stunted victims themselves, sufferers of abuse and neglect and generational poverty; their less savory characteristics are simply their best defense against the world that surrounds them.
Although there is very little about the saving grace of literature and words and books, Steinberg does paint a vivid and touching portrait of the criminals he dealt with every day for the years he worked in Boston's South Bay prison, as well as a harsh and unflinching one. These people are complex, despite society's desire to affix simplistic labels and shove them into an appropriate drawer labeled "criminal" or "convict" or "scum." Some of them -- many of them -- are cruel and violent and dangerous, as evidenced by the encounters Steinberg has with them on the outside, once they have been released; two that he recounts in the book are a mugging, and a depressing encounter with a pimp and a hooker, both of whom he knew from the prison; Steinberg plays up to the pimp's ego before he realizes that by doing so he is encouraging the violent exploitation of the drug-addicted woman whom he knew and had friendly feelings towards. But there is also incredible sadness in these devastated lives; though there are no instances of the kind of violence usually depicted in Hollywood movies about prison life (another shallow prejudice broken by this book), there is certainly violence and turmoil, and many of the people Steinberg meets are dead before the book's last page.
What was most clear from reading this book is that Steinberg is an outstanding memoirist; he gives some wonderful background, on himself, his acquaintances within the prison, and prison itself, both the system and the specific institution he worked in. He has remarkable insight, leading me to pause frequently to consider a particular passage or idea; one of the most telling for me was the simple observation that American prison spending has multiplied even while spending on education, and on libraries, has fallen to almost nothing -- a trend that continues and accelerates in today's economy. And he is a great storyteller, able to bring the people and places to life. This was a great book, one that I think anyone would enjoy who had an interest in books or prison -- and I would wager that pretty much everyone has an interest in one or the other, if not both.
A small personal note: as a sometimes reluctant high school teacher, it was fascinating to me personally to read about Steinberg's experiences trying to teach a creative writing course as part of his librarian's duties, because the things he struggled with, and the mistakes that he made and the successes that he had, are very similar to my own experience. Not that I would compare high school students to criminals . . . but the reverse is actually a reasonable comparison; these criminals are in many ways like high school students, and it was very interesting to see.


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Mr Nice: An Autobiography Review

Mr Nice: An Autobiography
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howard marks takes you into the life of a genius, giving you the opportunity to experience a new way of living. he is able to establish a unique understanding and perception of life through his eyes. this includes the various prisions, smoking rooms, universities, countries, threatening situations, immigration search rooms he has seen as well as the lives of those around and close to him. his skills and use of logic to develop understanding are second to none, allowing the reader to further understand his perspective and way of life. if your not a smoker now, you will be! or atleast you will understand why!

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During the mid 1980s Howard Marks had 43 aliases, 89 phone lines, and owned 25 companies throughout the world. Whether bars, recording studios, or offshore banks, all were money laundering vehicles serving the core activity: dope dealing. Marks began to deal small amounts of hashish while doing a postgraduate philosophy course at Oxford, but soon he was moving much larger quantities. At the height of his career he was smuggling consignments of up to 50 tons from Pakistan and Thailand to America and Canada and had contact with organizations as diverse as MI6, the CIA, the IRA, and the Mafia. This is his extraordinary story.

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Goodbye, Darkness: A Memoir of the Pacific War Review

Goodbye, Darkness: A Memoir of the Pacific War
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If one could read two accounts of the Pacific War written from the perspective of Americans this book and Sledges "With the Old Breed at Peleliu and Okinawa" would be the best that one can get. There are a lot of very good narrative history books on all aspects of the Pacific War, but the poet-gone-to-war genre is something that really the British usually do much better than the Americans. That is why when I stumbled upon Manchester's memoirs I was immediately sucked into the guts of wartime experience.
Manchester writes with passion borne from desperation and experience of long times in the firing line. He waxes from the lyrical experiences of a fireside chat on the battle-line with a student of philosophy (himself?) regalling the troops with an exposition on the nature of time. One is left with the images of hard worn veterans from small American towns, experiencing the wonder of ideas for the first time on the eve of battle. Their far off, empty stares as the philosopher marine finishes his exposition in sheer silence is something that one can almost feel. That very same night they cut up a large Banzai charge on Guam --- one can cut the atmosphere of the book with a knife.
Manchester can then go on an describe his visceral uncomfortable feelings of being close to the Japanese today. Their inability to admit to former attrocities is something that Manchester admits, planted the seed of dislike deeply inside him. Try as he might he cannot shake it and we are at least amazed with his honesty. This contrasts with the cerebral, fair-minded Manchester we all know from his biographies.
I have read more than 200 narrative histories and memoirs of the Pacific War, British, American, Japanese, Indian and Chinese, Australian, Canadian ... and this is one of the best. Like all good books, it stays with you for a long time....

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For the first time in trade paperback, the book in which one of the most celebrated biographer/historians of our time looks back at his own early life and gives us a remarkable account of World War II in the Pacific, of what it looked like, sounded like, smelled like, and, most of all, what it felt like to one who underwent all but the ultimate of its experiences.Back Bay takes pride in making William Manchester's intense, stirring, and impassioned memoir available to a new generation of readers.

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The Tender Bar: A Memoir Review

The Tender Bar: A Memoir
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This is one of those books that paralyzes the reviewer in its beauty. What can I say to convince you to read this book? Ideally, I'd just highlight every single line and make you read it.
It is nearly impossible to pin down one theme Moehringer's memoir is about: Fatherless boys? Working class moms trying to make ends meet? The search for a father figure in a crowd of bartenders? The genesis of a journalist, of a writer? The life of a blue-collar Yalie? Determining one's purpose in life? An intense character study of men in a bar? The rebellion of a son against his mom's intense love and support? Society's love affair with alcohol? In the end, this memoir is all of this and so much more, told in marvelous prose.
The author biography in the back jacket flap reveals that Moehringer is a Pulitzer Prize winner and national correspondent for the Los Angeles Times. These facts will help buoy the reader when our author is failing out of Yale, failing at life, or struggling to get promoted beyond his hard-won copyboy position at the New York Times. Moehringer searches for purpose, reason, motivations, and positive reinforcement (other than from his mother). He especially struggles with his unpublished novel, which he worked on for close to a decade (and which I suspect became the basis for his memoir, since the novel was reportedly largely autobiographical).
This is one of those books one needs to own, for the underlining of critical passages and literary references to review again later. Be prepared to get intimate with the tough, ruddy-faced bartenders and barkeeps of Publicans (especially Uncle Charlie, who I have known in another body in my own life), and to put Steve's bar on the list of places to visit before you die.


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