Customer Reviews

How to Cook Your Daughter: A Memoir

5 star:		(20)
4 star:		(10)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

As soon as I heard Jessica Hendra was writing a book, I knew I wanted to read it. I found a book store that put it out this weekend (Amazon said it wasn't supposed to be released until today), so I guess I got a bit of a jump.

First, I loved her dad's book, Father Joe - until I heard about what she says he did to her. I was skeptical at first, not because I didn't believe her but mainly because I wanted to see it in her own words. When I read the story in this book, I was even more flabbergasted than I was when I read about it in the NY Times.

This book is amazing. It's truly a great read, mainly because it isn't just about the allegations about her father but more about her entire childhood growing up in this unique and bizarre household. It is a story that unfolds just as it did for Jessica Hendra. It resolves around two storylines - the present and the past. And they intersect at the end. It allows you to understand what shaped her, and why she came forward - courageously, in my opinion - after hearing about and reading her father's book. She even confronted him about it and gave him every chance to come clean.

This book is a must-read for anyone who read Father Joe. I say that because it made me wonder about Father Joe, the book, and what it was really about. I mean, supposedly, it's about Tony Hendra's moment of clarity - when he sees his failures, confesses them and "saves" his soul. If Jessica Hendra is to be believed (and anyone who reads this book will come away believing her, I predict) then not only did he not confess it, but he continues to compound his sin by now trying to discredit his daughter (I think he called her "pathological.").

As an aside, I noticed that Kathryn Harrison who wrote The Kiss reviewed the book rather dismissively for Publishers Weekly (it's the one posted above). I find that astounding, given that what happened with Jessica Hendra seems far, far worse than any tragedy that befell Ms. Harrison, who, if I recall correctly, had a consensual incestuous affair with her father. How that equates with a child being molested - and how Ms. Harrison can suggest Jessica Hendra's book is unimportant - is more than befuddling. It's outrageous.

Regardless, I noticed other critics are hailing the book, and I would concur. I read it in one sitting (never intending to) and found it powerful, wonderfully told and, surprisingly, uplifting. More than that, compared to her father's book, I knew this one was honest.

Don't be deterred by the notion that it's difficult to read. It's just the opposite, and the parts that are meant to be difficult are brilliantly told in a way that makes them sink in without turning off.

I found this book to be an engrossing memoir of growing up in the Seventies in New York, and although incest was certainly the catalyst for writing it, the main focus is on this particular family's bohemian lifestyle rather than the actual incidents of incest. The book is insightful, honest and very powerful. I have read many other memoirs in the past few months, among them THE GLASS CASTLE and OH THE GLORY OF IT ALL, and HOW TO COOK YOUR DAUGHTER, though very painful, is a sincere and positive effort on Ms. Hendra's part to deal with situations which almost completely overwhelmed her. When I first heard of Ms. Hendra's incentive for writing this book, I was a bit skeptical as to whether this would be in her best interests, but after reading it I am totally convinced that for the sake of the emotional health of her own family, it was very important for her to confront the issue head-on in response to her Father's own memoir, FATHER JOE. This book is so much more than a book about incest. It is a poignant and remarkable look at an unusual family where a father's bizarre and often brilliant sense of humor and his total lack of concern or interest in his family's welfare brought intense pain and confusion to those he claimed to love. It was a family in crisis, with each individual
member trying to survive in her own way. It seems very clear that Ms. Hendra has made very positive choices in her adulthood, and fortunately in this case, history did not repeat itself; she was smart enough and strong enough to take all the negative aspects of her own childhood and turn them around so that her own daughters are being raised with the good values and unconditional love that her parents were unable and unwilling to give to her and her sister.
As far as I'm concerned, anyone who enjoys reading memoirs and learning about the way other people deal with life will find this one right up there with the best of them.

Okay, I didn't expect to like this book. I'm not into tell-alls and that's what I figured this one would be. It's not. The story is obviously built around Jessica Hendra's decision to finally challenge her father after he professed that he had earned salvation by a lukewarm confession that apparently failed to include what he did to her.

But this book is really about what it was like to grow up in the 70s comedy scene and how, in many ways, Hendra's childhood became hijacked by her father's "humor." The thing is, she isn't really complaining about that part of things. I think she even says at one point that she wishes the other things her father did didn't eclipse the eclectic nature of her upbringing.

As a reader, I was drawn to the behind-the-scenes stuff about the National Lampoon and the infighting there, and also to the brilliance and dysfunction that is her father.

What it became in the end though was a story that I found pretty universal: how someone who could've cowered in the corner the rest of her life found the strength to become her own person.

It's beautifully written, in a way that feels true and honest and genuine. I think at times I felt as though I wanted her to be more angry at him. But maybe that was because I was learning for the first time about this behavior and she had dealt with it her entire life. The story flowed wonderfully and easily, and I really struggled for a place to stop reading so I could make lunch.

Bravo, Jessica Hendra. It's nice for a change to see a supposed "tell-all" that isn't about slinging dirt and is more about finding oneself amid chaos and calamity.

I always find it interesting when people criticize others for telling their stories. I always thought that's what memoirs are about. Silly me. I guess it won't be surprising if Jessica Hendra takes some hits for this one. She is, after all, sharing parts of a past that I can't imagine she ever wanted to share. But this book really grabbed me in so many ways. It's not vengeful, even though, after reading it, part of you wishes it had been. It's not hysterical. It's just a story very well told, and it let's the story tell itself, really, very naturally, just sort of as it happened. I can't imagine how anyone who reads this book would have any smidgen of doubt that what Hendra says happened to her at the hands of her pseudo-famous father happened. But that's just the catalyst for the story, really. If people want to cast stones at her for writing this, I can't help but wonder why. Isn't she entitled to tell how she came to find herself after years and years of anguish? How isn't that a story that all of us should embrace? Stop comparing this book to her father's book (which, I must confess, I haven't read). On its own merits, this is an excellent, excellent work.

First, a small confession. I read "Father Joe" and thought it was a terrific book. Tony Hendra showed a deft touch in writing a portrait of a kind and wise priest who clearly influenced his life. It was that work that led me to "How to Cook Your Daughter," a book that I wouldn't normally read, given the subject matter. But when I heard it was Jessica Hendra's response to "Father Joe," I couldn't resist. (Another confession: I know writer Blake Morrison and was curious about how he would pull off a book of this type.) I must admit to being surprised. The book didn't focus exclusively on the daddy-did-me-wrong approach that I was expecting and proved hard to put down.

"How to Cook Your Daughter" rings true, and I have no doubt that Tony Hendra committed the despicable acts alleged by his daughter. Those sins and how they affected her are the threads that hold the book together.

But for me, the most compelling parts of "How to Cook Your Daughter" were Jessica's vivid memories of growing up in a frenzied family during the heyday of "The National Lampoon." This was a household of drugs, sex and rock `n roll, where John Belushi came over to hang out and play with the kids, where croquet was a blood sport, and where her parents and their friends engaged in public skinny-dipping escapades that embarrassed the Hendra daughters.

Tony Hendra had moments of sensitivity. But he could be incredibly hypocritical and cruel, such as the time he promised Jessica $50 for winning a walking-on-hot-asphalt contest that he devised, only to sign the check "Mickey Mouse," rendering it worthless. "Never do anything just for money, Jessie," he lectured.

From there, she leads us through her rebellious teenaged years, relationships with boyfriends, experiences in regional theater, battles with bulimia and anorexia, and success as a wife and mother.

Jessica Hendra never gets the one thing she wants from her father, but she triumphs in other ways, ultimately escaping his sick emotional grip and achieving a degree of acceptance. She has led an interesting and difficult life, and I thank her for having the courage to share it with us.

Monte Hanson
St. Paul, Minn.

I generally don't read reviews except for my own enjoyment, and I've NEVER written one. But after finishing this book and seeing the reviews on this site, I wanted to add my two cents. If the reader who bashed the book had actually READ the book, he would've understood why Hendra didn't pursue legal action against her father. But isn't that beside the point? Books such as this one don't need to be vengeful. And this one isn't. Not at all. Maybe it's the difference between how men and woman read stories such as this one, but to me, I found it elevating and inspiring. Here is a woman who spent most of her life, by her own admission, lost. This is how she found herself. I don't sense that this is a book designed to get back at her father, and anyone who does probably hasn't cracked the spine. Like i said, I don't write reviews, so you probably won't find this very helpful. But let me just suggest you read this book yourself and judge for yourself. Because if you do, I'd be surprised if you don't find it as meaningful as I did. I hope Hendra is given a fair shake and not branded as something that this book is not.

Considering the genre to which it belongs -- i.e., revenge memoir -- How to Cook Your Daughter is remarkably straightforward and even-keeled. That's not to say it lacks passion or moral judgment. But, given the subject at hand -- Jessica Hendra's very credible allegations that her semi-famous father molested her -- the book demonstrates considerable restraint. It's plainly told, well-paced, and graphic without being gratuitous. I assume Ms. Hendra supplied the painful honesty and lacerating self-doubt, while her collaborator, veteran journalist Blake Morrison, provided the discipline and structure. They make a good team; in their hands, what could have been a self-indulgent hatchet job becomes a frank examination of a toxic relationship.

How to Cook Your Daughter defied my cynical expectations that its author, an abused daughter, would wallow in self pity while attacking her semi-famous father. It turned out not to be a victim's fifteen minutes of fame spread over 300 pages. It did not read like the books churned out within 24 hours of a jury's verdict in a tabloid murder case. It did not aspire to be a Lifetime TV movie. Rather, the autobiography read like a novel whose likeable but troubled central character evolved and emerged from an unhealthy place.

I rooted for the author. I cared what happened to her. I admired the man who provided her love and support. In the end, I did not care if the father understood why the book had to be written although it was clear to me why. I was just relieved the daughter found some peace in writing it.

The story, although non-fiction, was no less engaging than any well written novel. The father's professional accomplishments provided an interesting backdrop. But the book never relied on name dropping. I waited for the self pity. It never came. Can there be a "feel good" book about abuse?

I was touched by Jessica Hendra's gentle, if not weary, humor as she pocketed me along through her life's journey. It is impossible not to envision every scene, the family packing up in the wee hours and moving across country in a broken down van, to the grassy farmhouse where she played and observed "the darndest things" to the punkish sometimes-schoolgirl doing everything possible to sabotage her all American (via English!) good looks. Though her language exquisitely surpasses the vapidness of the 70's & 80's, her story reflects the priorities of a lost teenager struggling to digest and navigate her chaotic homelife, specifically her egocentric, belligerent and usually desperate father. As opposed to many who can't escape the familiar, Jessica found the fortitude within to get out. You cannot help but feel the happily-ever-after potential when she finally connects with someone who demonstrates that men and narcissism are not synonymous. Through wit, a vast talent and remarkable judgment in how she presents the molestation that marked her childhood, Jessica demonstrates that we all have the choice to move on, to set our personal boundaries, to persevere...to give better than we got. Full of candid ironies, and so well told, her story inspires.

I have read some of the reviews written here. Some think that Jessica is out for revenge, or is wanting to get some publicity. In my opinion, those who say that have never talked with anyone who has been molested by a trusted adult. It is one of the worst things that can happen to someone. And it is so common. These days, we hear about it more but that is only because therapy has shown us that the victim is not to blame. When she talked about looking at a photo of herself at the age she was molested, that was heartbreaking. She opened herself to critism, but opened her heart to the readers. I hope that none of the reviewers who did not like this book, never have to face a loved one who has been molested. And if they do that they will be more loving than their reviews show. I wonder if Jessica's father will ever get it. I do wish that Father Joe were still around to help him. He really, really needs it. Please read this book and listen with an inner ear to the child who was betrayed.