Wild Game
By Adrienne Brodeur
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ 8.5/10
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
(8.5/10)
234 pages
A Best of Fall Title from:The New York Times Book Review•Amazon•TIME•People•Entertainment Weekly•BuzzFeed•NPR’s On Point•Town & Country•Real Simple•New York Post•Palm Beach Post•Toronto Star•Orange Country Register•Bustle•Bookish•BookPage•Kirkus•BBC Culture
What’s it about?
Adrienne Brodeur is just fourteen when her mother, Malabar, wakes her in the middle of the night to tell her she has kissed her husband’s best friend. Adrienne immediately becomes her mother’s co-conspirator in a torrid love affair that will last years. What happens to a child whose well-being is second to her mothers’ desires?
What did it make me think about?
Wow! What is it like to have a charismatic,narcissist asa parent? The harm we can do to children…..
Should I read it?
This book kept popping up my radar, but for some reason I resisted it. Maybe it was the cover? I am so glad I finally gave in and read this one. This memoir is so different than any other I have read. I found it thoroughly engrossing. Malabar was quite something, but it is Adrienne that you grow to admire.
Quote-
“I knew only what pleased my mother; I didn’t have a moral compass. It would be years before I understood the forces that shaped who she was and who I became and recognized the hurt that we both caused. What I knew then was that nothing made me feel more loved than making my mother happy, and any means justified that end. Starting when I was fourteen, what made my mother happy was Ben Souther. With that, my lying took a dark turn. Lies of omission became lies of commission. What began as choice turned into habit and became my conscience’s muscle memory.”
A Best of Fall Title from:The New York Times Book Review•Amazon•TIME•People•Entertainment Weekly•BuzzFeed•NPR’s On Point•Town & Country•Real Simple•New York Post•Palm Beach Post•Toronto Star•Orange Country Register•Bustle•Bookish•BookPage•Kirkus•BBC Culture
What’s it about?
Adrienne Brodeur is just fourteen when her mother, Malabar, wakes her in the middle of the night to tell her she has kissed her husband’s best friend. Adrienne immediately becomes her mother’s co-conspirator in a torrid love affair that will last years. What happens to a child whose well-being is second to her mothers’ desires?
Adrienne Brodeur is just fourteen when her mother, Malabar, wakes her in the middle of the night to tell her she has kissed her husband’s best friend. Adrienne immediately becomes her mother’s co-conspirator in a torrid love affair that will last years. What happens to a child whose well-being is second to her mothers’ desires?
What did it make me think about?
Wow! What is it like to have a charismatic,narcissist asa parent? The harm we can do to children…..
Wow! What is it like to have a charismatic,narcissist asa parent? The harm we can do to children…..
Should I read it?
This book kept popping up my radar, but for some reason I resisted it. Maybe it was the cover? I am so glad I finally gave in and read this one. This memoir is so different than any other I have read. I found it thoroughly engrossing. Malabar was quite something, but it is Adrienne that you grow to admire.
This book kept popping up my radar, but for some reason I resisted it. Maybe it was the cover? I am so glad I finally gave in and read this one. This memoir is so different than any other I have read. I found it thoroughly engrossing. Malabar was quite something, but it is Adrienne that you grow to admire.
Quote-
“I knew only what pleased my mother; I didn’t have a moral compass. It would be years before I understood the forces that shaped who she was and who I became and recognized the hurt that we both caused. What I knew then was that nothing made me feel more loved than making my mother happy, and any means justified that end. Starting when I was fourteen, what made my mother happy was Ben Souther. With that, my lying took a dark turn. Lies of omission became lies of commission. What began as choice turned into habit and became my conscience’s muscle memory.”
“I knew only what pleased my mother; I didn’t have a moral compass. It would be years before I understood the forces that shaped who she was and who I became and recognized the hurt that we both caused. What I knew then was that nothing made me feel more loved than making my mother happy, and any means justified that end. Starting when I was fourteen, what made my mother happy was Ben Souther. With that, my lying took a dark turn. Lies of omission became lies of commission. What began as choice turned into habit and became my conscience’s muscle memory.”
