ISBN: 0143036912
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Avg Cusomer Rating: 4
Reviews:
Summary: Entertaining Memoir on Lifestyles of SF's Rich and Infamous.
Wilsey's casual, astutely hilarious writing style is the perfect approach in recounting his truth-is-stranger-than-fiction life. I did not know any of the people he wrote about (San Francisco's socioeconomic elite) when I started reading this book, but Wilsey describes them so vividly and so intimately that I was drawn to them within the first few pages. Reading about the clashing triumvirate of Mom (Pat Montandon), Dad (Al Wilsey), and oh so wicked Stepmother (Dede Wilsey) was addicting, and I think Wilsey hit gold by opening up the book with them.
I might've been harsher on Wilsey's relentlessly disparaging portrayal of Dede if I didn't have the misfortune of personally knowing some people who would be kindred spirits with her. Despite all the faults of his parents and the other people in his life, he finds a way to make them human and likeable, or at the very least, pitiable. Dede, on the other hand, gets no respect from Wilsey, but I guess she may very well deserve none.
I do agree with many other readers that the middle sections on his teen angst period got a little wearying. It's not so much that his writing style wavered significantly in these parts, but (1) they weren't as fascinating as his recollections of life with his parents and Dede, and (2) they were so long and drawn-out that they became tedious to read after awhile.
Also, although Wilsey is largely self-deprecating and acknowledges at times the great privilege he was born into - snarky, thwarting stepmother and all - I got the slightest feeling that he still doesn't fully understand how amazed the rest of the world is at the extraordinary advantages he has been granted in life. It led me, as other reviews have also mentioned, to alternate between empathizing with Wilsey and sighing in exasperation at the poor little rich boy.
Still, the book remains an entertaining read, full of good laughs, good stories, and, if not good people per se, at least some people very good at being bad.
Summary: A little pretentious at times but nevertheless a vastly enjoyable book.
This is more or less a chronological memoir of the author's youth, with descriptions of meaningful life events that pull you in to the story. He grew up in a very wealthy family, with parents who heaped THINGS on him rather than love and affection. If you were a mischevious adolescent yourself, you'll probably find a few things in this book you can relate to. He also describes a lot of adolescent turmoil that comes just from growing up, going through puberty, and trying to connect with his parents, including trying to deal with a father that doesn't really seem to care about him.
What was enjoyable about this book for me is that there was so much I could relate to, from the frustrations of puberty, to the awkwardness of teenagerhood, to the general strange feelings that come from entering the adult world.
However, it was also frustrating at times because the author had so many opportunities handed to him, that only wealth can really afford, and he continually threw them all away. The book really serves as a case study in how affluence and disassociation within a family can harm a child's pscyhological and emotional development.
I recommend reading this book alongside The Glass Castle (by Jeannette Walls) because the contrast is absolutely striking and, on the whole, extremely illuminating of human character, and development of responsibility in the face of adversity.
Summary: Unexpected reading experience -- (3.5 stars)
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!
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