Customer Reviews

Oh the Glory of It All

5 star:		(45)
4 star:		(24)
3 star:		(10)
2 star:		(7)
1 star:		(10)

 

 

The test of a great book is whether it stays with you, not just from the standpoint of recommending it to your friends, but also whether it changes the way you think. I could not get this book out of my mind for days after I finished it. This is the best book I've read in 2005.

Not only is this a fascinating commentary on how the rich and famous live, it's also heartrendingly honest, tragic, and laugh-out-loud funny. Sean's recollection of his trip to Russia on his mother's first "peace mission" is so funny it should be mandatory reading for creative writers. His honesty about his efforts to be the cool kid made me laugh and cry at the same time, particularly since I was the same age as Sean in the 1980s. I did not think less of Sean as he told of his prep school experiences and less-than-flattering behavior. On the contrary, the courage to write such a memoir generated my respect. Sean came through a terrible childhood where he was treated with less regard than the family dog, yet he still emerged a decent and thriving human being.

As for Dede Wilsey, who supposedly is threatening to sue Sean Wilsey, I believe every word about her in this book. The proof speaks for itself. For starters, she just donated $10 million to the De Young while her stepsons were left penniless after Al Wilsey's death. We reap what we sow. The world would be a better place if every wicked stepmother had a book written about her while she was still alive and kicking to read it. It's such great poetic justice.

Entertaining, moving and strong. To me, a memoir's strength rests in its conclusion. And this story concludes elegantly and powerfully. Once you're there, the energy of the preceding 450 pages fold back on themselves like a wave breaking on the beach. If you're prospecting for the much publicized scandal and dirt in here, you'll find it. But if that's your sole motivation for reading this, sadly, you'll miss the point. I've read many memoirs and this one was a highlight in the pile. Glorious!

In my teens, I was enthralled by "Falcon Crest" and would have travelled across the continent in a moment to see that Victorian house; Sean Wilsey and his dad would play games where they'd fly over the house in his dad's helicopter. This and other details of Wilsey's younger years make up the captivating first third of this memoir. I haven't flown through non-fiction this quickly since ... well, ever. The story of his parent's marriage and nasty divorce is as dishy as anything you'd ever see on an 80's prime time soap and stepmother Dede Wilsey (who threatened to sue to block publication of the book, but either changed her mind or was unsuccessful- ha, take that Dede!!!) is the nastiest character to come along, real or imagined in years.

Wilsey made me feel for him and all that he went through, partly because I am a sucker for survivors of emotional abuse and also because it was nice to read a memoir from somebody my age (we are a year apart) where I could relate to the era he was referring to.

The book unfortunately begins to lag as Wilsey chronicles being shuttled from school to school and his rebellion against his parents. As interesting as this is, this part book should have been cut down to half its size; after reading about all the people in the schools and every last detail of a skateboarding routine, the type started to blur on the page. And then we get to Amity which Wilsey describes lovingly? ironically?

To me, Amity just seemed another school for troubled rich kids that bore no resemeblance to the reality many people face. Most juvies don't go to opulent settings in Italy to deal with their problems. As a former member of a religious Youth Group for teens, one that seems to share more similarities to Amity than I am comfortable with (though much less concentrated, of course), I recognized a lot of the tactics of getting in touch with one's emotions and the initmacy and touchy-feeliness that can develop in a situation. Color me jaded but I don't necessarily feel such tactics really are a cure-all, despite the good they did Wilsey, who really, really wasn't such a bad person anyway, just very lost and very depressed.

By the time Wilsey goes to the New School and gets a job at the New Yorker, I found myself wishing I'd been a teen rebel and failed out of every school so I could be working at the New Yorker or editing a cool quarterly - apparently that's all it takes. See - that's how this book has affected me; it's these strange moments of pitying Wilsey, then writing him off as just a rich kid who got more chances than most people would, to pitying him again that make this book such a strange and unique experience that has left me blindsided. I am profoundly touched by this book (the book does pick up again in the final, tearjerking chapters) and can't easily get Wilsey out of my head (and I mean that in the nicest way possible); I suspect I'll spend a lot of time thinking about this story.

Some reviews have accused Wilsey of being too self-pitying and self-centered; well for goodness sake, which teen isn't? Teen trauma is all about them, to the exclusion of everybody else, even the AIDS epidemic in San Francisco; Wilsey lived just a few short miles from one of the epicenters and dealing with enough troubles of his own, he never mentions it. It may not even have registered with him at the time; after all, his (fascinating, complex, wacko, wonderful) mother focused all her efforts overseas and not down the road.

Like Wilsey, I live in New York now as well and know how easy it is to recognize people people on the street, and it's amazing to me that Wilsey bravely bared so much of his life in these pages. Good Lord! If Wilsey ever writes a part 2 in 35 years (come on, his story isn't over yet, I'm waiting for Dede to reappear with a poisoned apple), I'll definitely read it.

Sidenote: Both Wilsey and Alison Bechdel in her recent graphic novel memoir heavily focus on their relationship withy their fathers and mention the same pivotal scene in "Coal Miner's Daughter". So who ends up reviewing "Fun Home" for the NY Times Book Review, perhaps not coincidentally? Our man Wilsey!

Sean Wilsey has written a magnificent memoir--albeit a bit too long. An editor could have trimmed it by at 100 pages. Nevertheless, this book will go down as one of the great 21st century memoirs. What a memorable collection of characters!

One of the most bizarre characters is the author's stepmother, Dede Wilsey. She is portrayed by Wilsey as a heartless gold digger--a quintessential mean and cruel stepmother. Why Al Wilsey married her is a complete mystery.

Despite its length, this is a wonderful memoir that is sure to have a long shelf life.

I got this book being a San Franciscan and wanted to read about the folks that grace the society pages. Instead it was about a young man's path to adulthood. Sometimes sad, sometimes funny. I had to read the skateboard incident to my husband out loud because, while I am sure Sean was pretty hurt, I found it hysterical as he bounded out of control over the SF hills.

Sean was successful in spite of his parents. As a parent myself, it made me wince when I read about how he was treated by Mom, Dad, and the Evil Stepmonster. Unfortunately, she doesn't get it in the end. Maybe a sequel?

The book was long, but it was a breeze to read, and now that it is over, I am sad about it.

Thanks for the good read Sean.

This book is a captivating memoir when it's at its best & flabby, aimless prose at its worst. Trimmed up, it would be an excellent book at about half the length.

Regardless, I enjoyed it & it would be a good read even if I didn't live in San Francisco & know all the players.

Dede, the "evil stepmother" has now marred beautiful Golden Gate Park with a multi-million dollar, empty, architectural monstrosity-the new de Young Museum against the desires of the "little people", i.e. the voters, of San Francisco. If she was left with nothing, it sure doesn't show as she flits around with 30 carat diamonds hanging from her ears.

One does get the urge to just yell "get over it!". Sean may have had some abysmal parenting, but who can muster a lot of sympathy for a really bad kid who lives in the most luxurious penthouse in (arguably) the most expensive city in the world?

This was a fascinating glimpse into the world of the ultra-wealthy.

This book perfectly reflects the incestuous, self congratulatory, excess that is the microcosm of San Francisco/Napa 'society'. The author, Sean Wilsey, is fortunate to have extricated himself from a life as just another trust fund heir attending the repetitive round of San Francisco benefits with the same group of 'swells'. Instead, he managed to escape this fate by surviving extraordinarily dysfunctional parents (as well as a manipulative, sociopathic, narcissistic step-mother, smarmy indiferent step-brothers) and a troubled, drug- addled 'slacker' adolescence spent at boarding schools. It is amazing that this biography keeps it's humor and self-effacing, honest tone throughout. Yes, it does drag a bit during the 'stoner' phase of the authors life but Sean Wilsey spares no embarrasing details of his bewildering childhood, and it is astonishingly self-aware and self-critical. This book reveals a lifestyle that cares more about money and social status than personal relationships. Dede Wilsey, the calculating step-mother, manages to insinuate herself into the Wilsey's life by posing as a best friend and confidante, only to seduce Sean's father and betray both Sean and his mother. Her greed and cruelty is truly breathtaking. Sean's mother is also a very self-absorbed woman with definite illusions of grandeur. In spite of her reversal of fortune as the ex-Mrs. Wilsey, Sean's mother does redeem herself by spearheading an international peace movement, surrounding herself with an eclectic array of friends (including Gorbachev, Pope John Paul II, Madame Sadat) This book exposes an elite eschelon of San Francisco society in the 70's and 80's filled with divorce and ex-spouses 'Falcon Crest' style. The ending is redemptive as Sean's father (who is intimidated and controlled by his ambitious young wife) does reveal his love for his son and the two have a touching reunion toward the end of the elder Wilsey's life. One hopes after reading this book that Karma will indeed bear out for the greedy step family who nearly managed to shut out Sean Wilsey from his father.

Before picking up a copy of this book, I had read reviews that focused on the author's family's status and privilege -- as well as the "tell-all memoir" stuff -- and so I came to the book with the expectation that I would have at least some degree of difficulty relating to it. But in fact I found that I identified so strongly with Wilsey's experiences that it took my breath away. The stuff he is able to articulate about living with -- and loving -- narcissistic parents, about learning to experience one's emotional self -- these are things I sometimes suspect are common to my entire generation. (If not, then maybe I've just surrounded myself with friends who have the same challenges as me...) I've given and/or recommended the book to countless friends, and every one comes back to me with the same reaction: they're blown away at how Wilsey's mom (or dad -- but often it's his mom, whose idealism and spiritual focus are detailed as powerfully as her emotional struggles) is just like their mom or dad. And I think the thing I appreciate most about his writing is that it's abundantly clear just how profoundly he loves both his parents, while still struggling with their flaws.

I hope I can convey just a little of how much this book meant to me, and how much it has helped me to read this brilliant (and by the way, REALLY funny, which is a killer combination) articulation of how one young man came to terms with it all. He tells an incredible story incredibly well, and it has sparked some amazing conversations, as well as some inner journeys, for people close to me.

I'm re-reading this and realizing that I've said too little about the book's own merits -- the writing, storytelling, humour -- but I feel like I've already gone on long enough, so will end here. I hope it suffices to say that I consider it one of the most compelling, and gut-wrenchingly honest, books I've read in recent memory.

As a former San Francisco resident and social column reader, I bought this book thinking it may be interesting to read about the true life of the high and mighty San Francisco social scene. Instead what I got was one of the most compelling coming of age stories I have ever read. Even if I had never heard of these people, I still would have been caught up in the travails of Sean Wilsey. What a difficult, interesting life, and so very well written. Good for you Sean.

Should be required reading for any parent considering divorce, for it is either a primer on what not to do with the kids left in the wake of such a decision or it is a very clear warning that one of them could just turn out to be a terrific writer with a great memory.

Or maybe this book should be mailed to every kid who is the victim of a bitter divorce to inspire them to start taking notes and jotting down dates: One day you just might get to sort it all out in a way that is as enjoyable to read as Sean Wilsey's book "Oh, the Glory of It All".

Either way, this is one not to be missed; a great read.