Customer Reviews

Ghostbread (Association of Writers and Writing Programs Award for Creative Nonfiction)

5 star:		(16)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

I'm not given to 5 star ratings easily. They have to be earned and this young author, Sonja Livingston, has a way of writing that simply blows me away. Her style is clear and crisp - straight to the point. Yes, Ghostbread is non-fiction, so you could say this is a memoir. But it's also short stories - a mechanism Livingston uses brilliantly to present her childhood. And let me say now this is not a whining, self-pitying attempt at catharsis. Livingston's use of language is powerful and direct. Speaking of her mother Sonja says, "Her tales were rich in gook and detail. Nothing was left out. Except for fathers. They were ghosts that folded themselves into the edges of her tales, vapors that floated in and out of delivery rooms, with us somehow, but never really showing themselves." I love how the descriptive writing style is neither flowery nor overblown.

Livingston assembled Ghostbread chronologically, which makes sense in that it's helpful for the reader to understand the family history. The author is the 5th child of 7 - most of whom were born of different fathers - and grinding poverty forced multiple moves upon the family. This almost constant moving meant the children never had a real idea of 'home' or stability. Periodically, Livingston would ask her mother why she wasn't like other mothers. "Why don't you have a husband? Why don't you make regular meals? Why don't you teach me to do up my hair?" To which mother, from flinty New Hampshire, would respond, "Live free or die - I'm telling you girl, there's no other way to be." And thus, with those words early in the book, you understand instinctively that these children are on their own.

Mostly, Ghostbread is a book of longing - for understanding; for an engaged mother; for some idea of what a father might be like; for basics like bread to stave of hunger, and a full refrigerator of food; for a sense of self. As a result, Livingston grew up not really knowing who she was, what she wanted, or where she was going. Perhaps through biological fate, her path diverged from that of her peers after high school. Though capable and intelligent, Livingston's main roadblock was not having anyone in front who could guide her to the next chapter of her life - college - and to a future beyond what she could envision.

It's always hardest being the first. It's lonely going down a different path, and yet somehow the author escapes her childhood - but not completely - and not that easily. "I managed to make my way... but remnants of the past remain. Like a ghost, the past is always there, flicking its gauzy fingers my way."

Livingston now works with children and sees herself in some of their narratives. She understands these children and their stories, but this clarity comes with a price. "I celebrate and cry for those who still live in poverty's clutches... I'd love to point them in new directions... ideals and opportunities and social theorizing are just fine, but if you must understand only one thing, it is this: a warm hand and words whispered into the ear are what we want. Paths that can be seen and followed and walked upon are what we most need. And in the end, the thing that feeds us, no matter how tenuous, is what we will reach for."

It's for writing such as this that you should rush out and get this book. Now. Really.

"Ghostbread" joins the very small handful of best books I've ever read; and I've read quite a lot.

I was dazzled by how powerfully low-key it was. Proof that less is indeed more.

It had me smiling one minute; catching my breath the next.

It has one of the funniest lines I've ever come across -- delivered in a sly way.

I was slightly disappointed when the last three pages were blank! I wanted more to savor; but realized the author served up just enough.

A tip of my (Mets' baseball) cap to the author.

Oh, and I eagerly await the movie. (I started casting it as soon as I was finished.)

This book tells the truth with lyrical phrases that dance off the page. With poverty and neglect the themes that are the woven backdrop for this story, we meet a resilient child who becomes a woman long before her time. We are gently taken by the hand to see a life of squalor that continues to have substance. And we learn that amidst continual loss, there is somehow a gain, a kernel of light that sparkles throughout this brilliant work. We can only hope fro more from this author.

I can see why this book won the AWP award. The essays are short--some only a page or so, and lyrical--the authors background as a poet is evident. Each piece builds on the other, and you just keep reading one more, like a kid reaching guiltily for another piece of candy. Though the book focuses on Sonja's life with her family and growing up in rough areas of town with little or no money, its shown honestly and without grinding in the horror of it. It just is what it is, and she shows us the pretty sides of it along with the bad. Though the author could have wallowed in the muck as the family did face many hardships, she chose to focus on other things--the parts of it that were important to her at that age: getting the part she wanted in the church play, sibling rivalry, and the simple desire for bread. I haven't finished a non-fiction book in awhile, but I finished this one. In short, I loved it.

The author lets us see her life, one of poverty, dysfunction, but also abundant love. She does so with such grace and integrity that the beauty of her life outshines the pain. I am giving this book to family and friends because it speaks to what love,forgiveness and family is.

This book was required summer reading for my daughter who will be entering Nazareth College in Fall 2011. It describes a lifestyle that she cannot even imagine. I skimmed through it when I purchased it for her, and realized then that the author is 2 years younger than me and grew up in the same geographical location, western ny, rochester (to be specific), as me. That is where the similarities end. I know the neighborhoods, schools, streets, news events and other things she writes about. I knew as a child that there were neighborhoods in my hometown that were not as nice as the safe, cushy suburban neighborhood I grew up in, because my parents were involved in many church-sponsored programs that were aimed at the neighborhoods the author grew up in. But as a child of a comfortable lifestyle, you have no way of empathizing with that life and can only follow the lead of the adults in your life. Now, as a parent, I cannot imagine the desperation I would feel were I to be living the life the author describes. This is an eye-opening book for all of us who look the other way and ignore poverty in the place we live. It is not a depressing book, only one that will open your eyes and heart.

As an elementary school counselor, I found this book to be an eye opening memoire from Sonja Livingston. Sonja describes her life in poverty through the eyes of a child with great detail, emotion, and innocence. In reading this book, it allowed me, as well as many colleagues- teachers, admininistrators, and staff- to become more aware of the lives of so many children today who are faced with struggles at home including financial difficulties, alcohol and drug abuse, divorce, blended families, abuse, neglect, incarceration of a parent, and the list goes on. This book has given me an opportunity to discover what some children like Sonja are faced with on a daily basis and how resiliant they can be with caring people and love in their lives. Sonja was fortunate to have a mother who loved her children deeply and believed in education; doing the best she could as a single mother living in poverty. As a school counselor, I believe that many educators become that person in a child's life who cares, nurtures, and is the "rock" who helps to build confidence in a child when parents are drowning in their personal struggles. I recommend this book to anyone who works with children, has children, or educates children. This book is an excellent tool for college course work (Freshman reading, Women's Studies, Child Psychology, Diversity, Counseling, Social Work, etc.). This book is sure to touch your heart.

Review for Sonja Livingston's book, Ghostbread

Amuse-bouche: a French idiom that describes little portions of special food that the chef might send out on a whim or to clean the palate. Sonja Livingston's chapters, in her memoir, Ghostbread, all 122, all short and meaty, can be considered as sophisticated tidbits or even amuse-ame, short pieces to cleanse the soul.

Livingston's writing exudes tragic circumstances without the tragedy of learned helplessness. Her narrator speaks with eloquent tolerance and understanding about growing up in unfortunate places in the 1970's. Her voice echoes a certain serenity about transition and loss, but tenacity and fortitude as well, not as garnish, but as deliberate choices for the narrator who gains insight into her own character with each sequential move as each course of her life unfolds, a life with myriad spices to be sure, but a life with no happy people as a foundation: no sustenance, no bread.

Her sardonic tone is scrappy, and Livingston blends it into her prose like carefully measured teaspoons of cayenne. The reader laughs with her in her urgency to survive the scurrying predicaments in a dysfunctional family, but also feels the underlying pain of betrayal with every bite.

If you received Amazon gift cards for the holidays, this book is a moveable feast.

Every book club in the United States should consider Ghostbread as a selection to inspire heady group discussion. I will be teaching this book in my AP English Literature class for their summer reading. This memoir lends itself to many questions, but reading circles and classes might begin with these three: 1) Even though the narrator's voice reflects the New York area, what universal ideas does the author explore about growing up and adolescence? 2) What does Livingston's book offer in the understanding of poverty and children in modern America? 3) How do Livingston's short chapters compare and contrast with those of Barbara Kingsolver in The Poisonwood Bible?

This book presents an intriguing childhood thoughtfully and honestly, and in that sense it can retain the reader's interest. However, at the same time, it reads in a truncated fashion where the author occasionally (but consistently) seems to contradict herself in small ways. It could be the fallibility of memory, and the truncated feeling could easily depict how Livingston felt during childhood, but sometimes it simply seems like inattentive writing--the occasional cliche, a smattering of Spanish that stops for translation when context would certainly do, and a lack of any real analysis or reflection until the epilogue.

"Honor and shame from no condition rise, act well your part, there the honor lies." - Alexander Pope (18th century poet) These things are not de facto, we create them by our actions. I believe this book is an excellent example of that.
The car on the cover (male logic) intrigued me despite the meager efforts by local media to promote the content, which is unfortunate because the book is for Rochester's daughters. But I am biased. If I were not intimately familiar with these neighborhoods I confess I would have enjoyed the story less. And as a cop, I've not only driven down Her streets I've been inside many of Rochester's homes. But you'll find that the book is a superb example of a backseat ride into someone else's life. After a dozen pages the streets and addresses become less significant as the people become more recognizable. The writing is dinner table friendly and the author uses that approach to invite you in. If I had a daughter (I don't) Ghostbread would be on my save-it-for-the-right-time list. The book is a teachable moment, take advantage of that! I only gave the book four stars because I was disappointed with the epilogue. The author lured us in but then never let us off the hook after we had swallowed the bait. For better or for worse, I was really invested in the lives of several people in the book other than the author. I wish Livingstone had concluded with something more about them. That still haunts me.