I picked up a book from the library last week that had been recommended from Book Club. Not knowing what it was about made that little bit more interesting. While waiting for our new tyres I started to read… if I had to wait all day I would have been happy.
Funny, sad, intriguing and a little bit of WTH??? and that was in the first few pages.
The Glass House by Jeannette Walls is a memoir that brings to life a nomadic childhood that was exciting, dangerous, fun, loving and at times heart wrenching. And written without an ounce of self-pity, no ‘woe is me’ attitude, or any finger-pointing blame games thrown in. I’m sure she, and her siblings have their fair share of issues and other problems, but they seem to have come out of it reasonably well-adjusted adults. But then I could be wrong.
It is an easy read, and one that will get you thinking about many things. Your own family, how you bring up your kids, boundaries, trust, self-esteem, and in a weird way, the most important one – how you think that others see you and whether it is important or not (to care or not to care?) Why do we care so much about what others think about us, does it make us better people, or cause us to be less happy within ourselves. You’ll see for the most part the happiest people here are those that don’t care. But I found them to also be the saddest people, lost in their own world so much they had no connection to others.
Would we raise out kids this, what do we think about those that do, why do we feel the need to raise kids in ‘socially acceptable’ manners. Isn’t it more important to teach them values, manners, respect and life than teaching them that it matters what everyone else thinks is ‘right’?
There is a prequel, the story of Jeannette’s grandmother which is said to explain a lot of things that goes on in the Glass House. I definitely need to read this.
I highly recommend this for a quick read, and regardless of the fact it is true, it is an entertaining story.
On an end note. Remember I was reading The Slap. I got no further than the first ‘chapter’ or story and didn’t pick it up again. I disliked him from the very start, and felt no connection or inclination to keep reading. I may try it again sometime, the written word is so much more descriptive than watching the tele version, you can get insides people’s head more, get to their thoughts.
Keep reading, with a smile, unless it is some gruesome awful thing… 🙂