The Liars' Club: A Memoir

How to even summarize this book? Mary Karr's childhood could have been anyone else's excuse for a thrown-away life of drugs, of ending up in prison, of forever being a victim. And her accounting of her childhood in Texas and Colorado -- at ages six and eight, if I understood correctly -- could have slumped into driveling bitterness. But Mary Karr is an individual of perceptive humor and forgiveness, so she survived and thrived. Mary Karr rose above the temptations that picked apart her parents, little by little, and emerged with the scars and the tales to prove it.And what tales they are. With her stalwart older sister Lecia forever looking out for her, Karr navigated a tricky path from one school to another, from one neighborhood to another, one abusive relative to another.But far from pulling the reader into the sort of depression one thinks would be the result of such a life, Karr offers a cool accounting of even the most horrific details, and splashes a bit of levity into otherwise dark corners. Her descriptions of people and places, her ability to capture the dialect she grew up around, and her unerring sense of pacing make this book worthy of every award it received.You might think you know how this story will unfold, but you don't. Read if for yourself, and discover what I did: this book is even better than everyone says it is.

If your family is normal, or even quasi-normal, then "The Liar’s Club" will showcase a whole new cultural experience for you. Mary Karr’s memoir describes her 1960s childhood with her sister Lecia in hilarious, horrific detail. For our reading entertainment, the profoundly dysfunctional Karr family takes the proverbial stage in "Leechfield," Texas (a pseudonym for the Port Arthur area). Leechfield is a lower-middle class town where the land and the air, and a lot of the people, smell like oil.Per Mary’s telling, her mother (whom she simply calls Mother) is a tortured artist, full of inner grandeur, and stifled by the bounds of poverty. She’s philosophical, passionate, and brilliant in her own ways, but she’s immobilized by mental illness and alcoholism. Her artistic flamboyance is so out of place in Leechfield, no one knows what to make of her, and the community writes her off as lunatic. But their assessment doesn’t seem unfair. Mother’s wildly destructive behaviors are the primary thrill factor of the book. Only the glowering, disapproving grandmother can subdue her, to the astonishment and disappointment of young Mary.Mary’s father (Daddy) is the saner parent. He’s an alcoholic too, but since he’s unplagued by mental illness, he isn't ostracized. He holds a job in the oil refinery, feeds his family, and dotes on his little girls. Daddy is famous in Leechfield for his masterful telling of tall tales among friends (inspiring the title "The Liars’ Club").Although Mother and Daddy do love Mary and Lecia, Mother’s illness overshadows every aspect of their lives with insanity. Mary and Lecia have few boundaries. While Lecia assumes the responsibility that her mother shirks, Mary grows sassy and wild.When Mother comes into some money, they all move from oil-permeated Leechfield to an idyllic ranch in Colorado, where the girls roam the wild countryside on horseback in mountain-fresh air under wide open skies. But as it has been said, no matter where you go, there you are. Addiction and illness follow them. Mother and Daddy divorce soon thereafter, and the children are abandoned to themselves and tossed around with fantastical carelessness.To conclude the memoir, Mary skips to her young adulthood. Mother’s new money has been squandered, Mother and Daddy have reconciled, they’ve returned to Leechfield, Daddy is bedridden, and a great family secret is disclosed. Suddenly, the insanity makes sense. But don’t read ahead. You need the blindness to appreciate Mary’s bewildering, focusless upbringing.Throughout the book, Mary hints that she and Lecia have grown into contributing, productive humans, but as she describes her childhood, you may wonder how that outcome is possible. Maybe this is what saves the girls: Despite all the chaos, a thread of love is evident. The girls are not rejected by either parent, nor by each other. They learn attachment.Karr’s narrative is a mashup of childish perspective and grown-up introspection. Her lexicon is deliberate and selective. She crafts each sentence like a poet (which she also is). In her writing, you’ll see glimpses of the good genes she’s inherited. She’s an artist, like her mother, and a taleweaver, like her father. Enjoy "The Liar’s Club" like wine: Some of it is unsavory. Some of it is exquisite. All of it will alter your outlook.Check out my other reviews at [...]

Mary Karr gives amazing specific details in this memoir, but I found it tedious at times. At first, the details captured me, but by the end, it went on and on.

A good book about the ravages of alcoholism/addiction and some about other forms of mental illness, especially as it relates to young children. My copy, bought new from Amazon, was marred by missing ink and had a small font. The diction and syntax were unusual, slowing my reading and causing some frustration. These matters are unique and endearing to many, often leading to the reputation of this book as humorous. Its sarcastic tone did evoke chuckles. This author's ability to make the reader feel the scene is well honed. She uses her sense of smell, a most evocative sense, to guide us through the trauma of her childhood. She seems amazingly well adjusted at this point for what she went through. She was obviously blessed with awesome intelligence and a desire to inquire, contemplate and analyze. Her command of the language is exemplary though her telling of her story was a struggle at times with the idioms, syntax and diction.

Karr's facile, natural prose slipped easily into my own internal dialog. This memoir proved so therapeutic that I spent several sessions with my shrink unpacking what it revealed.

I didn't just read this book. I recognized how good it is immediately. I was completely taken by surprise by the poetic and funny writing, outlining Mary's childhood in a dysfunctional family; so captivated that I found myself underlining passages and the wonderful way she describes everything, such as when her father came home. She didn't have to write that he was drunk. Instead, she writes, "Every now and then he'd come home lurching around like a train conductor." The image made me stop, laugh, and marvel, and it happened throughout the book. It is a true pleasure, such as when she said something to a neighbor after he got after her for shooting his son with a b-b gun. She writes, "And I came back with a reply that the aging mothers in that town still click their tongues about." This is the best memoir I have ever read, and I have ordered her sequels. I recommended this to my friends and the ones who bought it are raving about it.

There is no attraction in this book.There is no story. Okey, I can understand it, because it is a memory of the author.But Narration is bad. Wring style is certainly not fun to read, so much raw, dry, tasteless rambling with trivial details.After 50 pages I have decided I wasted enough time.

Where has this book been in my life? SO good. Brutally honest, heartbreaking, with moments of humour and a distinctive voice. TOP quality writing.

A powerful story and often tragic story that is an absolute privilege to read. The author's courage and honesty, as well as her humour and ever present voice make this a classic memoir.

I've read this book a bunch of times, from my teenage years on up. Continues to be excellent, and I appreciate it every time I read it. Best I've read of Mary Karr.

In a similar vein to ANGELA'S ASHES, this book vividly recalls details of the author's childhood with a capricious, artistic Mum and a downbeat Dad, both far too fond of the bottle. Mary brings a poetic insight and language to the story and there's a heartwarming ending. Read it!