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    <name><![CDATA[Sotoleon]]></name>
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  <id type="integer">242006</id>
  <isbn>031242227X</isbn>
  <isbn13>9780312422271</isbn13>
  <ratings_count type="integer">42356</ratings_count>
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  <title>Running with Scissors: A Memoir</title>
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  <link>http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/242006.Running_with_Scissors_A_Memoir</link>
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  <id type="integer">3058</id>
  <name>Augusten Burroughs</name>
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    <rating>4</rating>
  <votes>0</votes>
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  <read_at>Fri Jun 01 00:00:00 -0700 2007</read_at>
  <date_added>Tue Jun 12 23:31:06 -0700 2007</date_added>
  <date_updated>Wed Jun 13 00:55:53 -0700 2007</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[At first, the writing seemed stilted and TOO restrained, too pretty. But then, in terms of content it got better (or worse, depending on how you look at it since the rest of the memoir is about Augusten living with the insanely(!) funny Finches; the stuff that occurs includes a naked little boy---Boo---who takes dumps near the piano, the seduction of Augusten by a 34 year old loser who is a pseudo-member of the family, and a character who happens to have my first name, Cesar, spelled just that way and which I've never seen in a literary work [it's usually  spelt Ceasar] who . . . I can't even say it.) Anywyay, I realized halfway through the book that Augusten's writing is reflective of how he survived his unconventional (and this is a huge understatement) upbringing: by imposing an ironically aestheticized structure on his memories. Maybe an open gash sort of memoir would've a) been too hard to write b) too hard to read and c) not as effective. The ridiculousness of situations that occur (one more: destroying the kitchen roof because it was &quot;too low&quot; and installing a makeshift skyline whilst members of the family walk by to get orange juice without seeming too perturbed that hairy and plaster-y debris is littering the kitchen, profusely) are almost impossible to believe.  <br/><br/>In short, the book won me over, if depressed me somewhat. Augusten Burroughs is a master of dry irony and biting humor.]]></body>
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