When Steve Luxenberg took a year off from his job as a newspaper editor to investigate and write this book, it appears he left his editor's eye and skills back in the newsroom. For the first 80 or so pages of Annie's Ghost, I literally became dizzy at times reading it. Not only did the author apparently include every question in his head about "if mom had a sister", he also included every thought in his head about the matter. This is not good in a book. A book like that quickly starts sounding more like therapy than a story; the author starts seeming more like a man with a bad obsession, than a man trying to discover the truth. At one point, I thought if I read the phrase "if mom had a sister" one more time, I would take a bat to this book!
After around page 80, though, the book settles down a bit. This is also when, talking to a therapist, Mr. Luxenberg reveals some of his true motives for writing the book--he feels guilty about being irritated at his elderly mother for becoming needy and clingy, as she aged; he feels guilty about leaving her in a psychiatric hospital for two weeks, when she begged him to get her out. Guilt plays a major role in this book. I could not figure out at times, though, if the author was trying to make his mother out to be guilty or not. He obviously wanted to alleviate his own guilt feeling about her . . . and he strangely did so by making the memory of his long forgotten aunt the reason for almost everything his mother did and said, since the day his aunt was put away in a mental institution in the 1940's.
That was the truly bizarre thing about the book--the constant questioning that every thought or action by his mother was somehow related to his aunt's commitment at Eloise. It was like he could not possibly entertain the idea that his mother simply pushed the memory of her handicapped sister into the background; that she rarely, if ever, thought about her; that actually, little or nothing she said or did had anything whatsoever to do with her sister. Her reaction to being placed in a psychiatric ward for two weeks was probably very, very typical of a woman of her age and background, or of almost any woman finding herself in that situation. Yet, Mr. Luxenberg creates the idea that she must have acted as she did because she remembered how her sister had been committed. Maybe she did. But maybe she didn't. Maybe her whole adult life did not revolve around her sister's memory, as possibly her childhood itself did revolve around her sister's life.
In many families with a handicapped child, the entire family revolves around the child. This can be very detrimental to siblings. When they grow up, they want to get far away from the situation and the memories of it. This sounds more like what happened with Beth, the author's mother. The author, however, apparently really does not want this to be the case. He wants to make his aunt, Annie, with this book, the center of his mother's adult universe. It is too bad she was not in good health when the author found out she had a sister, so he could ask her about it, and hear what she really thought and felt. It is too bad; not to mention, totally unethical; that her final written message to her children was "rewritten" in this book by her son, to show that every comment she made to her children was actually based on her "guilt" about her sister.
Mr. Luxenberg did not grow up with a handicapped sibling; he did not grow up in dire poverty; he appears to not even be very close to his extended family, including his father's siblings. Yet, he writes about his forgotten aunt like he is her savior; he is bringing her life and story to the light; he will not let her be forgotten. Commendable. But how much of it is based on true family love and the need for justice, or just sentimentality and the need to alleviate his own feelings of guilt? It is so easy to be everything to someone who is no longer around to need anything, like time and attention and love and care. Since the author states himself he did not like being around his own mother as she got emotionally needier in her old age, it would probably be a fair guess to assume he, as a child or an adult, would not have wanted to spend much time with a mentally and physically disabled aunt.
Read the book for its exceptional descriptions of Eloise, early immigration, Detroit in the '20's-'70's, Anna Schlajn and the town of Radziwillow during WWII, and many other things. But don't expect all these interesting stories to solve some great "shocking" mystery about the author's family. There is no great mystery. There is nothing shocking. There is only a family secret. The reader learns that secret in the very beginning of the book, and that is what the reader has at the end of the book. Mr. Luxenberg's aunt, Annie, was born with physical and mental disabilities, and was institutionalized in 1940, because she started showing signs of severe mental problems.
The only great mystery about this book is why the author spent so much time guessing and fantasizing about what his mother was thinking about her sister since 1940. He should have spent no more than a few pages doing that, not a whole book. His mother took her thoughts and feelings about Annie with her to her grave. What right does anyone, including her son, have fantasizing; in a published book, no less; what her thoughts and feelings actually were about her sister? One can only guess . . . and the author, unlike his mother, is alive to dispute this, if he wishes . . . the more guilty his mother is about everything, the less guilty he has to feel about anything. Guilt appears to be one of the main reasons this book was written; and yet, ironically, guilt is one of the main reasons this book is no where near as good as it could have been.
(Note: I received a free ARC of this book from Amazon Vine.)