There are few memoirs that I can pick up and not want to put down. I love them, but they usually don’t hook me in quickly. The Glass Castle was different. From the first pages on her parents being homeless and her living on Park Avenue, I knew I would love this book.
To say Jeannette Walls had an unusual upbringing would be an understatement. Latch-key wouldn’t even be the correct term for her childhood. She raised herself for the most part – the pieces her parents contributed to she worked into a valuable lesson. I’m shocked she made it to be honest, even more so that only one of her siblings had issues living in the world after their upbringing. Being dealt the hand Jeannette wrote about, would have damaged many people beyond repair.
I knew a few people said they felt sorry for the parents, but I didn’t feel any sympathy. They were awful. The mother was selfish, and I truly believe she didn’t care about her children’s well-being. The father may have cared, but cared more about alcohol. The Glass Castle could be renamed as ‘Parenting: What not to do.’ If you even do a few of the things mentioned in the book I don’t believe you should have children.
I’m glad I read it, and I plan on reading more of her work in the future. I just need time as The Glass Castle broke my heart. The movie will probably be fantastic.