From one of our most astute cultural observers, a piercing memoir about a family’s breakup and the need simultaneously to embrace and distance ourselves from the people and events that shape us.
North Carolina in the 1950s and 1960 A child surrounded mostly by grandparents, aunts, and uncles born in the previous century, Malcolm Jones finds himself underfoot in a disintegrating marriage. His father is charming but careless about steady work, often gone from home and often drunk. His mother, a schoolteacher and faded Southern belle, clings to the past while hungering for respectability and stability. Jones vividly describes their faltering marriage as it plays out against larger cracks in the convulsions of desegregation and a popular culture that threatens the church-centered life of his family. He also recalls idyllic times and the ordinary, easy moments of an otherwise fraught discovering an old Victrola, attending a marionette show—experiences that offer a portal to other worlds.
Richly evoking a time and place with rare depth of feeling and a penetrating, often bittersweet candor, Malcolm Jones gives us the fundamental stories of a life—where he comes from, who he was, who he has become.
I enjoyed this book, which walked the line between wryly funny and sort of depressing. I wouldn't want to overstate my enjoyment, though: it wasn't a hilarious book, nor did it take me on any incredible journey into the author's mind & heart. It did, however, contain lots of neat "historical" details that will be a nice trip down memory lane for readers who were alive in the 50's & 60's, and a nice little insight for those who were not. Likewise, a few details were specific to the region (North & South Carolina). And, the author at times sneaks up on you with a really clever turn of phrase. Basically, this is the story of the author's experience as the only child from a home that started out as dysfunctional & semi-broken, and became completely broken. (This at a time when that was really rare.) His dad was an unreliable alcoholic, very uncommunicative yet somehow charismatic. His mom was an egocentric prototype for that particular breed of single moms who cast their sons as confidantes when they are way too young to be burdened as such. Interesting read-- not fantastic, but not a huge time investment, either, so probably worth checking out.
I really enjoyed this memoir; as a divorced mother who always fretted over finances raising my three children, I could relate to Malcolm's mom's struggle. I loved the intelligent, insightful child he was; so carefully observant of the adults around him. I loved that he always went to the movies with his mom, something my youngest son, at 16, is still willing to do with me. I ached for his pain, but cheered his strength. I love that time period, the 50's and early 60's, though I have a romanticized view of it- I so wish we had Charles Chips nowadays!!! Great book.
I am still always surprised how much I enjoy memoirs and Little Boy Blues is an excellent one. Jones grew up in the 1950's and 1960's in Winston Salem and other towns in North Carolina and South Carolina and this made the book especially sweet for me. His parents marriage was difficult, his father an alcoholic, and his mother strong but wanting not have to be. I liked his kind and gentle treatment of the people in his life and his amazing near photographic memory of places and events.
I enjoyed this memoir, though I confess that the book I have read since then (another memoir) has eclipsed this one in my memory! I guess people with odd/stressful childhoods often are compelled to write memoirs, and this one is no different. If you enjoy well-written nonfiction set in the south (in this case, North and South Carolina), then perhaps you'll enjoy this book.
I have a fondness for memoirs, especially when they are set in the South. That's where I grew up and while my family circumstances were different from Malcolm Jones, I could relate to many of the things Jones write about in the 1950s.