After slogging through the abstraction of Not Too Late, reading Alexandra Auder’s Don’t Call Me Home: A Memoir was a such a breath of fresh air.
First, a meta note… have you noticed how in recent years books are often suffixed with a category, eg, “A Memoir,” or The Candy House: A Novel?
I’m sure there is some publisher mandate informed by a mountain of customer research data that explains this trend.
In this case, I suppose it’s helpful, because Alex’s life is full of wild stories better than most fiction I’ve read recently.
This book is not just a portrait of the “good old days of New York, when things were still cool” (eg any time before you moved to New York) – it’s also a really poignant exploration of a complex mother / daughter relationship.
I loved it.
- Read Don’t Call Me Home by Alexandra Auder