The book describes the real-life story of the author's grandmother. Born at the turn of the century into a Texan small-holding family. It tells of her growing up, the history of her family in the early days of colonial America, her siblings, her parents and eventually her husbands. She doesn't seem to have had friends or not as I would know them.
The book was written in the first-person and starting as a youngster, not even a teenager, the language seemed to me to contain a naivety and simplicity that I found really engaging. I am not sure whether this type of prose matured as the book follows the girl into her adulthood and eventual old-age. Regardless I enjoyed this style of writing. The story was strong too, appealing to my personal interest in how individuals deal with the major social changes evident in the 20th century.
At the end though - looking back over the story, there are weaknesses. There is a sense that many episodes are just being retold as if remembered by a grandchild, without colour, without depth and quite often without any real context. In that sense the narrative does not flow well at all. The subject of the book turns out to be a rather cold, unemotional woman and quite possibly not a very pleasant person; that's a tall order for anyone to write but about your grandmother, nigh impossible. We can expect a rose tinted sheen about the woman - we wonder how unpleasant could she really have been.
A very odd conclusion to reach, a book I enjoyed and hesitate to recommend. Really I just think the style suited me and doubt you would agree. We would both probably agree on the content so maybe best if you pass on this one.
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