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Holler Rat: A Memoir
From a critically acclaimed performance artist, a funny, vivid, and ultimately heartbreaking memoir about forging identity in the chasm between cultures and classes
Anya Liftig grew up with a foot in two very different worlds: While her mother’s upbringing was so rural that the other kids called her “holler rat,” her father came from a comfortable, upper-middle-class Jewish family. Liftig spent school years in affluent Connecticut and summers in the holler. Shaped by the experience, she would go on to win a scholarship to Yale and become an acclaimed artist, using provocative performances to explore the contradictions and unanswered questions of her life. But when the world Liftig was building for herself shattered, she was forced to reconcile where she’d come from with who she was and who she wanted to be.
In Holler Rat, Liftig masterfully interweaves family lore from her Appalachian childhood with her performance art pieces and scenes of the yearlong period in which her life fell apart, and plumbs the cathartic self-reckoning that followed. She takes us from her Mamaw’s porch to Yale; from the site of a violent family land feud to a pre-gentrified Bushwick loft; and from a devastating childhood leg injury to having 243 raw eggs pelted at her in the name of art. In visceral, beautiful prose that ranges from raunchy and outrageous to sobering and tragic, Holler Rat is the origin story of an unconventional artistic life and a captivating account of the stumbling blocks, sacrifices, and discoveries along the way.
Anya Liftig grew up with a foot in two very different worlds: While her mother’s upbringing was so rural that the other kids called her “holler rat,” her father came from a comfortable, upper-middle-class Jewish family. Liftig spent school years in affluent Connecticut and summers in the holler. Shaped by the experience, she would go on to win a scholarship to Yale and become an acclaimed artist, using provocative performances to explore the contradictions and unanswered questions of her life. But when the world Liftig was building for herself shattered, she was forced to reconcile where she’d come from with who she was and who she wanted to be.
In Holler Rat, Liftig masterfully interweaves family lore from her Appalachian childhood with her performance art pieces and scenes of the yearlong period in which her life fell apart, and plumbs the cathartic self-reckoning that followed. She takes us from her Mamaw’s porch to Yale; from the site of a violent family land feud to a pre-gentrified Bushwick loft; and from a devastating childhood leg injury to having 243 raw eggs pelted at her in the name of art. In visceral, beautiful prose that ranges from raunchy and outrageous to sobering and tragic, Holler Rat is the origin story of an unconventional artistic life and a captivating account of the stumbling blocks, sacrifices, and discoveries along the way.
288 pages, Hardcover
Published August 15, 2023
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4516 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 66 reviews
September 3, 2023
This felt like two different books - one about the two sides of her family and how she felt pulled between them while she was growing up, and the other about her adult life as a performance artist struggling with mental health issues. I was much more engaged in the first and didn't always feel like the two parts held together as a cohesive whole.
November 16, 2024
I enjoyed much of this—both the descriptions of family in Kentucky and life in the contemporary art world. Her feelings for her family in Kentucky resonate with my own for my family in Western Kentucky. I do agree, though, with the comments about this feeling like two different books.
November 8, 2023
Liftig is a notable Best American essayist, and her literary talents are on delicious display here.
I loved this book. I dogeared so many pages I’m going to have to revise this later when I’m at an actual computer and then consider opening a dog shelter.
If you have disposable income these are the ppl in your life you should gift this to: aspiring artists, young flyover-country democrats considering moving to Brooklyn or matriculating at Yale, your liberal-arts-grad loved one who also grew up in BFE…
You may not be in a position to love this book if: you’re 26 or younger and have never been depressed, you haven’t heard of Marina Abramovic, you dislike independent films, you resent people who have been to Yaddo, or you only read straightforward plot-driven books that you can buy at eg Target or Costco.
(There is nothing wrong with checking any of those boxes but honestly as a marketer emeritus I don’t know why ARCs of this book were given to people who clearly check at least one of those boxes, because _of course_ they weren’t going to get it or finish it or rate it above 3 stars. smh)
You will probably love this book if: going to college risked you getting the bends from a socioeconomic class perspective, your younger self has done things you instantly regret in an attempt to win back an ex, you’ve felt torn between different worlds, you’ve cried yourself to sleep, you’ve felt like you’re not “living up to your potential.” “ “ “ “
Well paced, nicely structured, artfully interwoven, honest and warts-and-all open without coming off as LOOK AT ME OR I WILL CEASE TO EXIST in that uncomfy way you sometimes get from some performers who are more into succubus-esque taking from their audience than giving.
Etc:
1 Aside from the scattershot distribution of ARCs, I am also aggrieved on the author’s behalf about a handful of copyediting oversights that the publisher missed. Rude!
2 I couldn’t help but notice no shout out to her sister in the acknowledgments but maybe that’s just because I am feeling especially fond of my own siblings these days 💅🏽
3 I do prefer conclusions where I don’t worry about the narrator — I think this comes from my being a student of standup comedy (and a standup myself). Standup only works —esp if it trucks in dark humor — if the audience is confident the performer is okay, is joking about topic xyz and we can laugh because we know the comic has worked through and has an asymptotically healthy-ish relationship with the material. (This is why H Gadsby’s stage work should not be seen as standup comedy necessarily but more of a one woman show with a microphone.) But here you don’t know in the end if the narrator is ok. There is not enough “okay stuff” pacing in the final pages to feel like things have worked out okay — it feels like a perfunctory recycled holiday gift wrap bow has been upchucked hurriedly — so in this way the reader can be left wondering if it was ok to peer so closely at certain aspects within the memoir, because the pacing at the very end make you unsure if the narrator is okay or even if they are okay with being not necessarily okay (which is a form of okay).
4 I appreciated that the author changed names, and I also felt that her narrative treatment of certain aspects of her relationship with her ex felt fair — in that I, as someone who has met and interacted with and knows at least a teeny weeny bit both of these people IRL from the olden days, I quite frankly only find myself feeling more fondly about both the narrator and her ex after having read this. All of us can be broken misfit pieces of shit du temps en temps and sometimes our jagged edges make us wabi Sabi and complementary to another, and other times they make us dangerous and inadvertently hurtful.
5 which brings me back to point 3 and to what the green eyed Elizabethan asked of the narrator - I am left wondering at the end, my hand on hers - “are you down?” Because surviving is not thriving and existing is not living and the reader/audience needs to know the journey has meaning if only so we can look at the potholed muckety muck white mold encased ephemera of our own lives and feel that, yeah — maybe there will be marathons of DOWN BUT we’ve got eleven fingers clutching hard to make sure we’re not out, like the crazy cousin who should maybe take a hint but dangit we’re NOT going OUT without a fight etc etc
Or something
I loved this book. I dogeared so many pages I’m going to have to revise this later when I’m at an actual computer and then consider opening a dog shelter.
If you have disposable income these are the ppl in your life you should gift this to: aspiring artists, young flyover-country democrats considering moving to Brooklyn or matriculating at Yale, your liberal-arts-grad loved one who also grew up in BFE…
You may not be in a position to love this book if: you’re 26 or younger and have never been depressed, you haven’t heard of Marina Abramovic, you dislike independent films, you resent people who have been to Yaddo, or you only read straightforward plot-driven books that you can buy at eg Target or Costco.
(There is nothing wrong with checking any of those boxes but honestly as a marketer emeritus I don’t know why ARCs of this book were given to people who clearly check at least one of those boxes, because _of course_ they weren’t going to get it or finish it or rate it above 3 stars. smh)
You will probably love this book if: going to college risked you getting the bends from a socioeconomic class perspective, your younger self has done things you instantly regret in an attempt to win back an ex, you’ve felt torn between different worlds, you’ve cried yourself to sleep, you’ve felt like you’re not “living up to your potential.” “ “ “ “
Well paced, nicely structured, artfully interwoven, honest and warts-and-all open without coming off as LOOK AT ME OR I WILL CEASE TO EXIST in that uncomfy way you sometimes get from some performers who are more into succubus-esque taking from their audience than giving.
Etc:
1 Aside from the scattershot distribution of ARCs, I am also aggrieved on the author’s behalf about a handful of copyediting oversights that the publisher missed. Rude!
2 I couldn’t help but notice no shout out to her sister in the acknowledgments but maybe that’s just because I am feeling especially fond of my own siblings these days 💅🏽
3 I do prefer conclusions where I don’t worry about the narrator — I think this comes from my being a student of standup comedy (and a standup myself). Standup only works —esp if it trucks in dark humor — if the audience is confident the performer is okay, is joking about topic xyz and we can laugh because we know the comic has worked through and has an asymptotically healthy-ish relationship with the material. (This is why H Gadsby’s stage work should not be seen as standup comedy necessarily but more of a one woman show with a microphone.) But here you don’t know in the end if the narrator is ok. There is not enough “okay stuff” pacing in the final pages to feel like things have worked out okay — it feels like a perfunctory recycled holiday gift wrap bow has been upchucked hurriedly — so in this way the reader can be left wondering if it was ok to peer so closely at certain aspects within the memoir, because the pacing at the very end make you unsure if the narrator is okay or even if they are okay with being not necessarily okay (which is a form of okay).
4 I appreciated that the author changed names, and I also felt that her narrative treatment of certain aspects of her relationship with her ex felt fair — in that I, as someone who has met and interacted with and knows at least a teeny weeny bit both of these people IRL from the olden days, I quite frankly only find myself feeling more fondly about both the narrator and her ex after having read this. All of us can be broken misfit pieces of shit du temps en temps and sometimes our jagged edges make us wabi Sabi and complementary to another, and other times they make us dangerous and inadvertently hurtful.
5 which brings me back to point 3 and to what the green eyed Elizabethan asked of the narrator - I am left wondering at the end, my hand on hers - “are you down?” Because surviving is not thriving and existing is not living and the reader/audience needs to know the journey has meaning if only so we can look at the potholed muckety muck white mold encased ephemera of our own lives and feel that, yeah — maybe there will be marathons of DOWN BUT we’ve got eleven fingers clutching hard to make sure we’re not out, like the crazy cousin who should maybe take a hint but dangit we’re NOT going OUT without a fight etc etc
Or something
October 1, 2023
Liftig’s life story is interesting and well told, but I was particularly impressed with the writing itself. The things she doesn’t say. The woman who wrote this book is clearly not the same woman she was in the stories we’re told, but she doesn’t walk us through that shift. Liftig mentions how most of her career, her performance work was silent, and I think even in this tell-all genre, she continues to utilize silence in a powerful way.
The story is pitched as being one largely informed by socioeconomic class, and class certainly plays a role throughout, but Liftig’s visceral experience of womanhood is equally central to her story. Yet I think this is still too broad a generalization to accurately reflect what this book is. Really, this memoir is an examination of all the things that make up a life.
Liftig’s class and gender, her aquired disability and mental health, her art, her traumatic experiences, her relationships, her love, her passion, her pain are all inextricably linked. Everything that has happened to her and that she has made happen is a culmination of all that came before. Both events out of her control and those where she exercises her agency have a certain air of inevitability.
Liftig shares the peculiarities of her life not by making them relatable, but by fleshing out her experiences in so much detail readers can’t help but understand.
I really enjoyed this book. On a surface level, it was a captivating and fascinating look into a life I think most people would find, in a word, strange. On a deeper level, Liftig has a lot to say about class and gender and disability and art, and a whole host of other topics. I know she mentions she studied English at Yale, but I still find myself impressed that this is her debut book. If she writes another, I’ll definitely be reading it.
The story is pitched as being one largely informed by socioeconomic class, and class certainly plays a role throughout, but Liftig’s visceral experience of womanhood is equally central to her story. Yet I think this is still too broad a generalization to accurately reflect what this book is. Really, this memoir is an examination of all the things that make up a life.
Liftig’s class and gender, her aquired disability and mental health, her art, her traumatic experiences, her relationships, her love, her passion, her pain are all inextricably linked. Everything that has happened to her and that she has made happen is a culmination of all that came before. Both events out of her control and those where she exercises her agency have a certain air of inevitability.
Liftig shares the peculiarities of her life not by making them relatable, but by fleshing out her experiences in so much detail readers can’t help but understand.
I really enjoyed this book. On a surface level, it was a captivating and fascinating look into a life I think most people would find, in a word, strange. On a deeper level, Liftig has a lot to say about class and gender and disability and art, and a whole host of other topics. I know she mentions she studied English at Yale, but I still find myself impressed that this is her debut book. If she writes another, I’ll definitely be reading it.
May 15, 2025
“It’s been twenty-five years since those nights spent shedding layers of myself, and I’m incredulous that I’m now in the midst of what was once my future.”
August 28, 2023
Such a compelling story about two worlds I know a little bit (NYC performance art; private school) and one (Kentucky) I don’t know at all. Much of it so difficult and painful (poverty, medical malpractice, miscarriage, and more), but Liftig is also quite funny, and her writing is gorgeous. Her Mamaw (grandmother) and mother, and the relationships between the two of them, and then also with Liftig, are beautifully drawn. It's a book that would be memorable for the characters and events alone, and then her writing and careful craft elevate it to something really special.
Some passages I loved:
“Allyson and I long ago gave up lobbying to go on normal family vacations and resigned ourselves to becoming connoisseurs of the historical reenactment films that greet us at every national park visitor center. We think the films at places like Mount Vernon and Monticello are far too conventional. We each specialize in subgenres. I am fond of taxidermy displays, fake food, and wax museums, while she gravitates toward electronic maps. I am in awe of the people who work at Colonial Williamsburg and Old Sturbridge Village. When I lie in bed, I imagine churning butter for retired couples and disgruntled schoolchildren.”
“At Mamaw's, the perishable becomes everlasting. Objects attempt to fill the void of all the leaving—Ed, James Edward, my mom, her two exile granddaughters, even her antsy Jewish son-in-law. Maybe for Mamaw they are mortar holding the stone wall of our lives together; maybe they are mental caulking against the sin of poverty. They are definitely homemade shrapnel, a physical retaliation to the humiliation of class oppression. But the truth is Mamaw's home is a museum of gimcrack.”
[in group therapy]:
“A typical conversation between us ladies:
"What about him? He's kind of hot?”
"Sex addict."
"That's not so awful. I mean, channeled in the right direction."
"What about him?"
"Complete burnout trust-fund guy. Parents threatened to sell his Jackson Hole ranch if he didn't get sober, again. Only going to get richer though. Plus side, might not notice if you spent all of his money."
"Well, I guess in some way it's easier to pick guys here. Their issues are up front and clear for all to see. You don't have to be married for fifteen years to find out what is wrong with him."
Then some laughter derived from painful experiences.”
Some passages I loved:
“Allyson and I long ago gave up lobbying to go on normal family vacations and resigned ourselves to becoming connoisseurs of the historical reenactment films that greet us at every national park visitor center. We think the films at places like Mount Vernon and Monticello are far too conventional. We each specialize in subgenres. I am fond of taxidermy displays, fake food, and wax museums, while she gravitates toward electronic maps. I am in awe of the people who work at Colonial Williamsburg and Old Sturbridge Village. When I lie in bed, I imagine churning butter for retired couples and disgruntled schoolchildren.”
“At Mamaw's, the perishable becomes everlasting. Objects attempt to fill the void of all the leaving—Ed, James Edward, my mom, her two exile granddaughters, even her antsy Jewish son-in-law. Maybe for Mamaw they are mortar holding the stone wall of our lives together; maybe they are mental caulking against the sin of poverty. They are definitely homemade shrapnel, a physical retaliation to the humiliation of class oppression. But the truth is Mamaw's home is a museum of gimcrack.”
[in group therapy]:
“A typical conversation between us ladies:
"What about him? He's kind of hot?”
"Sex addict."
"That's not so awful. I mean, channeled in the right direction."
"What about him?"
"Complete burnout trust-fund guy. Parents threatened to sell his Jackson Hole ranch if he didn't get sober, again. Only going to get richer though. Plus side, might not notice if you spent all of his money."
"Well, I guess in some way it's easier to pick guys here. Their issues are up front and clear for all to see. You don't have to be married for fifteen years to find out what is wrong with him."
Then some laughter derived from painful experiences.”
August 25, 2024
The first memoir I’ve read that’s felt like a true page turner. Loved reading about Anya’s family, to whom I could relate, and how it inspired her art.
May 30, 2024
I'm shocked this memoir doesn't have more ratings and reviews. I feel like the author was so authentically herself, and didn't try to paint herself in the best possible light like others often do. The author's writing is so genuine and real. There were so many quotes that were so relatable to me.
"He looks completely clueless, that fog of manhood."
"I want him to read my mind. I want him to know me so well, to be so deeply connected to the grime and gunk in my soul that he knows I could never actually say the words "I want a diamond ring," and then he just goes and gets me one anyway."
"It's depressing to want a baby and not to be able to have one. I can tell you one thing for sure. Once you get a baby, you will smile all the time. The baby will make you smile, smile, smile, and there will be no more of this depression. It will just go away, poof!"
I took a lot away from this work and even if you aren't big into performance art, I feel like there is something in here for everyone.
"He looks completely clueless, that fog of manhood."
"I want him to read my mind. I want him to know me so well, to be so deeply connected to the grime and gunk in my soul that he knows I could never actually say the words "I want a diamond ring," and then he just goes and gets me one anyway."
"It's depressing to want a baby and not to be able to have one. I can tell you one thing for sure. Once you get a baby, you will smile all the time. The baby will make you smile, smile, smile, and there will be no more of this depression. It will just go away, poof!"
I took a lot away from this work and even if you aren't big into performance art, I feel like there is something in here for everyone.
September 1, 2023
DNF - the audiobook - I think I might enjoy this one but will try to get a written copy. I don't particularly like audiobooks narrated by the author and this one is no exception.
December 13, 2023
Really beautiful imagery and character development, but the last third of the book slips a little for me in terms of the unfolding of the story and timelines of events.
August 22, 2023
Holler Rat is, in turns, funny, harrowing, searing, witty…you get the idea. Ostensibly a memoir about a young woman who straddles two worlds—the tony world of Westport, CT and a holler in the hills of Kentucky—the book ricochets through her life as an artist, where her talents help blend the two disparate cultures. The writing is sharp and evokes all her worlds with precision. From the opening paragraph to the emotional clothing, she keeps the reader riveted.
Unlike the self-congratulatory muddle that was Hillbilky Elegy, Holler Rat bares all. I tried to slow down my reading so I could savor it, but I found myself turning the pages, like I was reading a thriller. And that’s the thing: Anya keeps us hanging on to see what happens next. She is a true artist who has mastered many worlds. Brava.
Unlike the self-congratulatory muddle that was Hillbilky Elegy, Holler Rat bares all. I tried to slow down my reading so I could savor it, but I found myself turning the pages, like I was reading a thriller. And that’s the thing: Anya keeps us hanging on to see what happens next. She is a true artist who has mastered many worlds. Brava.
November 29, 2023
So, as a person who has somehow, somewhat jumped my assigned class, I had high hopes for this one. But, Liftig is not the one who jumped class here...it was her mother, Inez. And it was the descriptions of Inez's upbringing in an Eastern Kentucky "hillbilly" holler in abject poverty that worked here...and which were most relatable.
The author's descriptions of herself failed. Anya (whether she wants to admit it or not) grew up middle class in decidedly upper-middle class Westport, CT., the child of two public school teachers. Though I guess she is fairly successful as a performance artist, she came across as little more than many other obnoxious "boho-as-they-want-to-be" art-types I have encountered in my life.
Whittling this down to a biography of just her mother (& her mother's extended family) would likely have made a much more interesting work, I think.
The author's descriptions of herself failed. Anya (whether she wants to admit it or not) grew up middle class in decidedly upper-middle class Westport, CT., the child of two public school teachers. Though I guess she is fairly successful as a performance artist, she came across as little more than many other obnoxious "boho-as-they-want-to-be" art-types I have encountered in my life.
Whittling this down to a biography of just her mother (& her mother's extended family) would likely have made a much more interesting work, I think.
May 4, 2024
Just won this book through Goodreads giveaway page- thanks for picking me!
September 11, 2023
I had trouble putting this one down. Raw, authentic, and unique.
August 25, 2025
I enjoyed the first half more than the second.
May 25, 2025
This memoir gives you a raw, unfiltered glimpse into the mind of an artist. Other reviewers have noted, that they felt like it was two unconnected stories or a jumble of disjointed tales-The story of her childhood visiting her family in the Hollers of Kentucky and the story of her adulthood as a performance artist sprinkled with tales of her struggles with depression and infertility. I believe it's the story of a disjointed woman. A woman whose adult life was defined by a childhood and adolescence where she struggled with where her place was within the social structure of society and even within her own kin. She lived in two separate worlds yet didn't quite belong in either. This fractured sense of self shaped her as an artist. Therefore you cannot have one story without the other. The experiences we have as children mold who we are as adults. In order to try to understand Anya, you must understand that Artists think on a different wavelength, they view the world through prismatic lenses. I view Anya as a broken vase. A vase knocked down from the shelf where she once sat next to her MaMaws collection of deodorant sticks. Anya glued herself back together but left a few pieces on the floor of her MaMaws shack in the Holler. A vase dropped by a Dr who tried to hide his clumsiness by glueing her back together but lost a few pieces on the operating table. A vase looked upon with distaste by her fellow Yalies for its imperfections. A vase shoved in a corner, vying for attention but overshadowed by newspapers, takeout, and pill bottles. A vase who shatters herself over and over again leaving pieces of herself with the audience she daringly stares down. A broken vase that desperately wants to contain Motherhood. I view her as a tragically beautiful vase, unique for all its cracks, holes, and puzzling pieces. I'm grateful to her for so eloquently sharing her story so that those of us who are also broken vases can know that we are part of a collection.
Thank you to Goodreads and their Giveaways for introducing me to Anya's story.
Thank you to Goodreads and their Giveaways for introducing me to Anya's story.
August 19, 2024
This book is quite a wild ride. I don't think I've ever read anything like it.
First, the writing. I give enormous credit to Anya Liftig for her prose. While her voice is certainly unique, it also approximates conversation and is easy to follow. It feels like she's just telling me her story in her unique, original way, hitting all the right notes to get me to understand. She does this in both ravaging stories of battling mental illness, and tender stories of describing her childhood toys. And everything in between. Nothing pretentious, nothing coy, just picking the right word each time.
Thankfully, the stories are told in pretty much chronological order, making everything easy to follow.I mean, how do you reconcile who you are, when a part of you is a hillbilly, and another part is descended from Easter European Jews, when you are a student at one of the most elite schools in the US, and when you struggle with your budget every.single.day.?
Throughout the book, Anya struggles to find her footing as a performance artist, visual artist, tutor. If nothing else, the book is proof that her art is writing. She is home there.
I read this book for my book club's next meeting. I gave it four stars, because while I have nothing but admiration for Anya's prose, some of the content was... a lot. There's a considerable amount of squeamish material. I'm not a prude, but the amount of grossness, horror, and sadness sometimes went beyond where I could manage to go. I needed to take some breaks.
Still, this book defines certain aspects of life in the USA, and life as a girl-teen-young adult inspires introspection and questioning in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. I hope Anya Liftig keeps writing.
First, the writing. I give enormous credit to Anya Liftig for her prose. While her voice is certainly unique, it also approximates conversation and is easy to follow. It feels like she's just telling me her story in her unique, original way, hitting all the right notes to get me to understand. She does this in both ravaging stories of battling mental illness, and tender stories of describing her childhood toys. And everything in between. Nothing pretentious, nothing coy, just picking the right word each time.
Thankfully, the stories are told in pretty much chronological order, making everything easy to follow.I mean, how do you reconcile who you are, when a part of you is a hillbilly, and another part is descended from Easter European Jews, when you are a student at one of the most elite schools in the US, and when you struggle with your budget every.single.day.?
Throughout the book, Anya struggles to find her footing as a performance artist, visual artist, tutor. If nothing else, the book is proof that her art is writing. She is home there.
I read this book for my book club's next meeting. I gave it four stars, because while I have nothing but admiration for Anya's prose, some of the content was... a lot. There's a considerable amount of squeamish material. I'm not a prude, but the amount of grossness, horror, and sadness sometimes went beyond where I could manage to go. I needed to take some breaks.
Still, this book defines certain aspects of life in the USA, and life as a girl-teen-young adult inspires introspection and questioning in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. I hope Anya Liftig keeps writing.
August 31, 2024
As someone from Appalachia, I seek out memoirs and other books by/from Appalachians, and I had high hopes for this memoir - but was greatly disappointed. Liftig's book reminded me, sadly, of a certain pseudo-Appalachian politician's memoir (initials: J.D.V.). Though Liftig seems to want to claim the title "holler rat," she grew up middle-class in a wealthy New England neighborhood but (like this other writer) visited her Kentucky relatives occasionally.
This memoir tries to leverage Appalachian/"holler" status but without the foundation of actual lived experience. Liftig's mother, and her family, have greater claim to this status as folks born and raised in Kentucky. Even though Liftig was born into a mixed-class/mixed-background family (her father is well-to-do, Jewish, and from New England), she skips over the substantial privilege her New England home and position brings. She also (again like this other writer) trots out numerous "backwoods" tropes and stereotypes about her "Mamaw" and her "hillbilly" family, which were hard to read and/or believe. She also deploys the frustratingly common Cherokee-(great)grandmother claim to Indigenous identity without any Indigenous in-community recognition or experience to support her claim.
The memoir held a lack of self-awareness and reflection on this positionality, juxtaposed with peculiar performance pieces that, perhaps like the memoir itself, work terribly hard to try to show the artist/writer in the particular, not-quite-accurate light that she seems to feel will make her work sell/be noticed more.
This memoir tries to leverage Appalachian/"holler" status but without the foundation of actual lived experience. Liftig's mother, and her family, have greater claim to this status as folks born and raised in Kentucky. Even though Liftig was born into a mixed-class/mixed-background family (her father is well-to-do, Jewish, and from New England), she skips over the substantial privilege her New England home and position brings. She also (again like this other writer) trots out numerous "backwoods" tropes and stereotypes about her "Mamaw" and her "hillbilly" family, which were hard to read and/or believe. She also deploys the frustratingly common Cherokee-(great)grandmother claim to Indigenous identity without any Indigenous in-community recognition or experience to support her claim.
The memoir held a lack of self-awareness and reflection on this positionality, juxtaposed with peculiar performance pieces that, perhaps like the memoir itself, work terribly hard to try to show the artist/writer in the particular, not-quite-accurate light that she seems to feel will make her work sell/be noticed more.
August 5, 2023
I was intrigued by the story of Anya – her mother is from an area that I knew nothing about (the Holler which, in her case is rural Kentucky) and her father is from a Jewish family. While I knew this was a memoir I think I was hoping it was more about the juxtaposition of the Holler/Jewish aspects of her life – or as she calls it – being a Jewbilly; but the book is a more holistic memoir. I would say 50% is about being a Jewbilly and the rest is diving into her experiences of being middle class in a wealthy suburb, becoming a performance artist, living the life of a starving artist in NYC and living with her dysfunctional husband.
I would have enjoyed hearing more about her two families and the history of her Holler family (on which her father apparently has done extensive research). While the writing was good and I enjoyed the Holler descriptions and those where her family was part of the novel, I just wasn’t that personally invested in the life of a performance artist. I feel there was a missed opportunity here.
This was a 3.5 star read for me.
Thank you NetGalley and Abrams Press for the opportunity to review.
I would have enjoyed hearing more about her two families and the history of her Holler family (on which her father apparently has done extensive research). While the writing was good and I enjoyed the Holler descriptions and those where her family was part of the novel, I just wasn’t that personally invested in the life of a performance artist. I feel there was a missed opportunity here.
This was a 3.5 star read for me.
Thank you NetGalley and Abrams Press for the opportunity to review.
November 27, 2023
HOLLER RAT: A MEMOIR by Anya Liftig - 3 stars
First, I need to say that the reviews on the back cover of the book demonstrate that three of the reviewers did not read the entire book. They seemed to find things hilarious. That is an odd way to describe a book that depicts Anya Luftig's downward spiral.
Second, I began by listening to this book, really enjoying it, when my loan period ended. I turned to a print copy and became aware of a change in the tone of the book. I found it harder to read and less enjoyable.
Everyone has a story to tell, and Anya's story is a difficult one. She lives a fairly normal life in Connecticut with her parents and her sister most of the year, but the family spends their summers in the hills of Eastern Kentucky visiting her mother's family.
The descriptions of life in Kentucky are sad and disturbing. Anya points out the familial relationships that show a very inbred group. The treatment the visitors receive from their rural members is harsh and mocking.
First, I need to say that the reviews on the back cover of the book demonstrate that three of the reviewers did not read the entire book. They seemed to find things hilarious. That is an odd way to describe a book that depicts Anya Luftig's downward spiral.
Second, I began by listening to this book, really enjoying it, when my loan period ended. I turned to a print copy and became aware of a change in the tone of the book. I found it harder to read and less enjoyable.
Everyone has a story to tell, and Anya's story is a difficult one. She lives a fairly normal life in Connecticut with her parents and her sister most of the year, but the family spends their summers in the hills of Eastern Kentucky visiting her mother's family.
The descriptions of life in Kentucky are sad and disturbing. Anya points out the familial relationships that show a very inbred group. The treatment the visitors receive from their rural members is harsh and mocking.
November 16, 2023
Anya was a senior at Staples High School in Westport, CT when I was a freshman. We had no interaction and I have little to no memory of her, aside from watching her rock out the ballet from Carousel from the orchestra pit. There were some other people mentioned in this book (the names were slightly changed but I could still tell) who I knew a little better, and it was amusing to see who were arch enemies in high school.
This book (which I read in solidarity after seeing it in the town blog) shows me that you never really know where others come from or what they're going through, and everyone has their story. I had no idea about her second life in hillbilly Kentucky, or her career in performance art (just in case you have any doubt that the salmon dance happened, there's video on her website!). It's mostly lighthearted but gets very heavy in the last 20% (I am all too familiar with Silver Hill as well....)
This book (which I read in solidarity after seeing it in the town blog) shows me that you never really know where others come from or what they're going through, and everyone has their story. I had no idea about her second life in hillbilly Kentucky, or her career in performance art (just in case you have any doubt that the salmon dance happened, there's video on her website!). It's mostly lighthearted but gets very heavy in the last 20% (I am all too familiar with Silver Hill as well....)
December 10, 2023
I liked the juxtaposition of rural Kentucky and Ivy League/East Coast; the discussion of religion, class, and economics was interesting.
But there is a lack of self awareness in the memoir. The seeming inability of the author to recognize the consequence of her own actions. In one paragraph she explains that not contributing equitably to household expenses made her feel less entitled to her and her husband's shared lifestyle. However, at the same time, she was upset she didnt get a big diamond engagement ring and urged her husband to buy a bigger house. And then, when he asked her to move out, she wrote how entitled she felt to their apartment.
The dissolution of her marriage and miscarriage were difficult to read about; the pain, abuse, and abandonment were clearly communicated. It was also difficult to read about her going through ivf while in the midst of a mental health crisis.
But there is a lack of self awareness in the memoir. The seeming inability of the author to recognize the consequence of her own actions. In one paragraph she explains that not contributing equitably to household expenses made her feel less entitled to her and her husband's shared lifestyle. However, at the same time, she was upset she didnt get a big diamond engagement ring and urged her husband to buy a bigger house. And then, when he asked her to move out, she wrote how entitled she felt to their apartment.
The dissolution of her marriage and miscarriage were difficult to read about; the pain, abuse, and abandonment were clearly communicated. It was also difficult to read about her going through ivf while in the midst of a mental health crisis.
October 17, 2024
Struggling with 2 or 3. At multiple times I almost quit reading. Her writing is very captivating, but the book was all over the place. It felt like a bunch of great short stories, and then some filler chapters to make it cohesive.
I heard her speak on a panel, and this just wasn’t what I was expecting after that interview, or by the description/ reviews of the book.
I enjoyed reading about her life in KY and her relationship dynamics within her family. I wasn’t expecting as much performance art, and that’s just not my thing. I was expecting more about her reconciliation with New England and KY family and experiences.
I’d consider recommending this book, but only to very specific people. It was quite sad, a very raw book, and will stay with me. Kudos to Anya for her bravery sharing her story.
I heard her speak on a panel, and this just wasn’t what I was expecting after that interview, or by the description/ reviews of the book.
I enjoyed reading about her life in KY and her relationship dynamics within her family. I wasn’t expecting as much performance art, and that’s just not my thing. I was expecting more about her reconciliation with New England and KY family and experiences.
I’d consider recommending this book, but only to very specific people. It was quite sad, a very raw book, and will stay with me. Kudos to Anya for her bravery sharing her story.
September 5, 2023
I have a high bar for autobiography because it feels really difficult. The great authors somehow manage to anesthetize their own egos so that they can fully splay their insides open for the public, but they don’t anesthetize so much that they lose their facility for writing beautiful sentences, threading a coherent narrative, or palpating the malignant masses they find within their vivisected lives with curiosity that feels both macabre and scientific. Some books I’ve loved in this genre include Westover’s Educated, McCurdy’s I’m Glad My Mom Died, and — until he turned out to be a total asshole — Vance’s Hillbilly Elegy. Liftig’s book is up there with the best of them because it demonstrates (over and over) the bravery that autobiography requires in order to be great.
March 12, 2025
first off, the writing is visceral and the author's voice distinctive. all the parts about mawma, matriarch of the holler, and the vast maternal lineage in the rural kentucky "holler" are compelling. how inez, her mother, left this world for another, yet was inescapably tied to it, how her departure was held against her. the pride, the sense of dignity, the abject poverty, the kabillion cousins, the can-do spirit, the family tree of stubbornness and collecting.
but then we get to the bits about anya's performance art, which often involves debasement & body horror and the gross pretenses of "making it" in the art world. the book would have been stronger overall had these storylines been kept separate.
but then we get to the bits about anya's performance art, which often involves debasement & body horror and the gross pretenses of "making it" in the art world. the book would have been stronger overall had these storylines been kept separate.
April 28, 2023
This is a tough book to rate. Overall I thought the writing was quite good and readable. The story Liftig told (her own) was compelling enough that it was often hard to put down and I applaud her bravery and vulnerability in sharing it. It also made me quite uncomfortable, especially near the end, which I feel confident was part of the point. That being said, I don’t know if I would recommend it to everyone. It’s a book that I would say has its readers, so if the premise sounds interesting, I encourage you to give it a try.
Thank you to NetGalley and Abrams Press for the review copy.
Pub date: August 15, 2023
Thank you to NetGalley and Abrams Press for the review copy.
Pub date: August 15, 2023
August 13, 2023
I can’t describe effectively why I find people’s family history so enticing. When I read how different the author’s families were I had to read it. Hill people and east coast posh produced Liftig. She writes the most about her Kentucky clan.
Parts are hysterical (her father and his bagpipes and many scenes with Mamaw) to just sad, mainly the author’s struggles with her issues.
I couldn’t relate at all to her performances; I found them bizarre.
I also couldn’t grasp why her grandmother would leave her mother such a twisted land problem when she had all the paperwork for the uncles.
It’s a different read, for sure.
Thanks to Abrams Press and NetGalley for the early copy.
Parts are hysterical (her father and his bagpipes and many scenes with Mamaw) to just sad, mainly the author’s struggles with her issues.
I couldn’t relate at all to her performances; I found them bizarre.
I also couldn’t grasp why her grandmother would leave her mother such a twisted land problem when she had all the paperwork for the uncles.
It’s a different read, for sure.
Thanks to Abrams Press and NetGalley for the early copy.
September 11, 2023
The premise of this book lends itself to too many worlds.
Liftig is an artist. As art, this book garners a rave review from me. Personal connections to symbols tumble from every crevice. Leftig’s approach to storytelling is personal and unafraid of the reader.
As a book meant to be read, “Holler Rat” misses the mark. It contains the following through lines: parenthood, heritage, Appalachia, Jewish identity, and artistry. In this level of detail, these are too many for one book. They are intense, but too brief. They are personal, but can read as pretentious.
The unresolved vignette conclusion (the story of how the book begins) is wildly frustrating, lending the reader a sense of wondering what just happened, but more importantly why it just happened.
TLDR: If you want to read art, this is your book. If you crave memoir, look elsewhere.
Liftig is an artist. As art, this book garners a rave review from me. Personal connections to symbols tumble from every crevice. Leftig’s approach to storytelling is personal and unafraid of the reader.
As a book meant to be read, “Holler Rat” misses the mark. It contains the following through lines: parenthood, heritage, Appalachia, Jewish identity, and artistry. In this level of detail, these are too many for one book. They are intense, but too brief. They are personal, but can read as pretentious.
The unresolved vignette conclusion (the story of how the book begins) is wildly frustrating, lending the reader a sense of wondering what just happened, but more importantly why it just happened.
TLDR: If you want to read art, this is your book. If you crave memoir, look elsewhere.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 30, 2023
Liftig's title is a bit of a misnomer—she wasn't a "Holler Rat," that distinction belongs to her mother, who grew up poor in rural Kentucky. Liftig spent summers visiting her Kentucky grandmother, a memorable character, but didn't grow up there. She was deeply influenced by the place and its people, using her experiences to create a niche for herself at Yale and later as a performance artist. It was interesting to read about Liftig's art, chaotic post-Yale years, tumultous marriage and mental health struggles, but overall, I found this memoir to be a bit uneven.
July 18, 2024
I can’t really describe how much I hated this book. This woman is the most desperate for attention and lost person I have read about in a while. She clearly suffers from mental illness and is one of those people who just thinks of dumb shit and calls it art. All of her “performances” are ridiculous. I’m actually shocked at her ability to survive. She survives like a homeless person and blames her problems from belonging from two different places. What a joke. Her parents are probably epically disappointed with her life. I know I am.
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