Customer Reviews

Memories of My Life: A Personal History of a Lithuanian Shtetl

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My Great Grandmother wrote this book. When she wrote it, she was already old, had witnessed the births and deaths of many loved ones. English is not her second language. It is her 7th. To write such a book was an enormous accomplishment. See, you have to understand my grandmother. She was a story teller. I get my storytelling abilities from her. She spoke with a flavor of Yiddish in all her words, and she was the real thing, from the Old Country, all that. She had a sadness in her eyes that I couldn't get near. I was only seven when she died, but I remember her so well. Her fragile hands, painting the stories she told in wide brushstrokes across the room. Her love, coming through in her aging voice. This book is not just a story. It is MY story. It is HER story. It is, somehow, the story of us all, of humanity really. It is about strength, and courage. It is about letting go of the things you love so that the people you love can start over, unburdened. Read this book and imagine it being told to you, being spun in the air.

this book was okay but not that great. than again i don't like these types of books. Read it, actually read every thing! you can probaly guess what's its about by the title so i won't tell you and ruin it.