Running with Scissors, by Augusten Burroughs

I really enjoyed this book. It's a family biography with a sharp edge, tempered by humor.

I read Burroughs' "real" memoir, The Wolf at the Table, before reading this one. The Wolf concerns itself with the early years, the years Augusten spent with both parents, and most particularly with his father. We soon come to realize how cruel his father was. There are episodes in that story that made my flesh crawl.

In this book, by contrast, Augusten is living with his mother as well as with the family of his mother's psychiatrist, Dr. Finch (the names are changed with good reason). He never sees his father, though he mentions him a couple of times in passing. Augusten passes from age 12 to adulthood here, and the book takes a much lighter approach.

Augusten thanks his parents, by the way, for giving him such a memorable childhood, however inadvertently. That childhood certainly was off the charts in strangeness, but I think the reason he remembers it so vividly is that he wrote about it all the time, in his journals. When I think of recording events from my own childhood I draw a lot of blanks.

But back to the book. Augusten's mother is a self-centered poet who is concerned mostly with overcoming what she considers oppression in her life. And just about anything, including a critical comment by her son, counts as oppression. She has a tendency to go off the deep end from time to time. Her son has an unerring sense of when these periods of madness are about to arrive. Thus Augusten eventually finds himself, from time to time, in the home of her doctor. And that life is no less crazy.

No calm, sensible guiding family there. Instead, Dr. Finch believes that when one reaches the age of 13 one has the freedom to do whatever. Further, he believes that most insanity comes from repressing anger. Thus the house is in constant chaos and the family members revel in acting out. At first this exposure is unnerving to the ultra-tidy Augusten, but in time he goes with the flow. And enjoys it, for the most part. Even takes part.

In a way, the book is about Augusten growing up in a crazy world but not being actually crazy himself. He takes on the observer role as much as the participant, and his observations are funny. At times, the events are very funny too, while at other times they hint at madness and horror.

While overall a very funny book, Running with Scissors also hints at the underlying pain in a boy growing up without a caring parent or substitute parent. He learns to take caring where he can get it.

Possible Side Effects, by Augusten Burroughs

Burroughs reads his own book in this CD edition.

I think listening to the author affects my perception of the work, and that perception is not, perhaps, as good as it might otherwise be.

Burroughs is an experienced reader, yet his technique is odd. His phrasing is out of sync with the meaning of the sentences, as he breaks where one would not normally break, emphasizes words probably not emphasized in speech. It is as if he is reading someone else's work, and for the first time.

The other book of his that I listened to was Wolf at the Table, and there is a significant difference between the two, both in the way the stories are told and in the way they are read. Wolf is the unadorned truth. No humor in it at all. It is the story of Burroughs' relationship with his father, who was a man who liked to play games with his son's head and who had little regard for the feelings or sensitivities of others. His father was a monster, and that book makes that very clear.

By contrast, Possible Side Effects is a series of stories of Burroughs' life, taken out of sequence and at times embellished as needed for comedic effect. There certainly is overlap, as they are both based on his own memories, but Side Effects is humor, even though at times a bit edgy humor.

Burroughs' reading of Wolf at the Table is unrelentingly somber, dark, and so meticulously spoken that it is as if Burroughs cannot let go of a single word without clinging to it first. I found his reading hard to take. His reading of Side Effects is lighter, even though it clearly comes from the same place. It is easier to take because he does not seem to dwell on words the same way, doesn't stretch them out until they nearly spring back. Yet the phrasing is similar, the stopping in odd places, the overall almost flat tone. In both cases he takes on the voices of other characters at times and his speech patterns and accents are very much alike in these cases, in the two books. It struck me, though, that in the case of Side Effects he does not actually speak the way these characters would have. It's disconcerting.

The stories range from all-out funny to near-yucky to creepy, frankly, and reveal inner torments underneath the humor. In these stories Burroughs talks frankly about his own physical ailments as well as mental aberrations. The stories tend to be about excess, about going too far. The times Burroughs strikes out against his parents or grandparents he does so in ways we associate with out of control juveniles. He throws the worst epithets at his hated grandmother. He single-handedly covers his childhood kitchen in flour, pots, pans, butter, meat from the freezer, and heaven knows what else. The very excess of it all is perhaps what makes it funny - as well as edgy. And it makes us wonder what it's like to be inside that head. Maybe that's why I keep coming back for more.

A Wolf at the Table, by Augusten Burroughs

I bought the CD version of this book because it looked interesting. I had not read anything else by Burroughs, and I understand this is a departure. The book is read by the author, which seemed a good thing.

I am not sure about that last at this point. Burroughs has recorded his other books as well, on CD, in his "normal voice", according to him. In interviews with him and at the end of this edition, he talks about how he wanted this one to be different. He doesn't talk about his voice, but instead about the music interweaved throughout. He asked several contemporary musician friends to read the book and to write something based on it, and they did. So we are treated to original music along with the words. Good music, worth hearing.

To me there isn't anything earthshaking about adding music to an audio book. It is done all the time. Clearly most of the time the music is not written specifically for the book, of course.

What is striking is Burroughs manner of speaking. He speaks carefully, enunciating every word, and he has a habit of reading with this pattern:

[In a low, almost flat, yet intense voice, each word carefully pronounced] He stood [pause] waiting in the doorway [pause] for my eyes [pause] to meet his ["his" emphasized]. For a taste of the reading style, watch and listen to this excerpt on Amazon.

His habit of enunciating every sound, as if every word was precious and could not be let go without a fight, made me, at times, mad with frustration. "Get on with it!" I yelled, flailing my free hand at the CD player in my car. His manner of speaking overpowered the story itself so much that I had trouble deciding if I liked it.

I think I liked it.

It is a memoir about Burroughs's father, a cruel, insidiously cruel man. A man so wrapped up in his own world and so oblivious to the needs of others that he let a horrible disease build up in the family dog, never willing to take it to the vet. A man so frugal he could not abide the purchasing of small treats for his son - or, obviously, the visit to the veterinarian so badly needed. A man who clearly is disgusted by this son who appears more like a girl than a boy. A man capable of subtle threats. A man who plays games.

Listening to it at times made me cringe. At one point I even skipped a small section because the horror was beyond what I wanted to bear.

Perhaps it's a testament to the resilience of children, but I am happy to report that it isn't all smiles at the end. This kind of childhood is going to leave marks. And as is so often the case with abusive parents, the child is left clinging to a need for approval that he will never get.

Worth reading, I suspect, more than listening.

Cities of the Red Night by W.S. Burroughs

I read Cities of the Red Night because I wanted to know what Burroughs was up to.

Frankly, I had a terrible time with it. A friend of mine worked with W.S. Burroughs for several years and even created a hotel that he called "The Beat Hotel" - a hotel where you can study about the "beats", talk with other interested and interesting persons, see original work, particularly by Burroughs. It's a wonderful small hotel (unfortunately, my friend died unexpectedly and the hotel is not open now and may never reopen).

I broached the subject of Burroughs with my friend several times,but he never really answered my questions.I am not sure if he thought I was too prudish to hear it? It seems laughable, yet that may be the case.Because of his connection to WSB and because he worked in particular on Cities of The Red Night with Burroughs, I wanted to read it so I could understand Burroughs better.

I can't understand him. In addition to reading this entire book, page by halting page, I have read much of a substantial biography and have read many websites about him. My overall impression is not good. I suspect that his work appeals to men and of course particularly gay men. I felt sticky with semen every time I touched that book.I keep looking for what I may have missed. Certainly his writing is unusual, although to me it seems to be unusual in a druggy sort of way, along with that obsession with sparkling, colored semen and the ecstacy of hanging.

I am open to alternative opinions, explanations of what I may have missed.