How to Walk with Steve is a memoir of a boy's connection with his autistic brother in a family defined by alcoholism, art, and death in a decaying Midwestern city. With exposed-nerve scenes, Robert Fromberg immerses us in an early childhood made relentlessly unpredictable by autism and addiction; teenage years alone in 1970s New York City; and young adulthood as guardian of his brother after the death of their parents.
With short, immersive segments - conversational, candid, and often humorous - this potent new memoir finds moments of human intimacy amidst a story of love and loss, struggle and survival.
Never have I read a memoir so lacking in ego or self-aggrandizement and so full of sensitivity, kindness, vulnerability, and wit.
In a brilliant nontraditional method of storytelling, Fromberg chooses the most salient, deeply felt moments of his life and examines them in crystal-clear, heartbreaking detail. You feel his shame, his isolation, his joy, his curiosity, and especially his unconditional love for his younger brother Steve.
The author's story starts in Peoria, Illinois in a family defined by art-making, addiction, and a sibling with special needs. It includes scenes from the 1970s New York punk scene, a wedding in a police station, and several muggings. The emotional through-line is the unbreakable bond between the author and his brother.
Don't let the nontraditional format scare you. This book reads like a breeze and feels like a warm hug from the author.
I recommend How to Walk with Steve to anyone interested in: memoir, addiction, coming-of-age stories, families with special needs, relationships, self-development, human behavior/psychology, punk rock, New York City.
Absolutely stunning work and I am embarrassed it took me so long to get the review posted. You can find it over on my blog: https://allthebookblognamesaretaken.b...
The word "trauma" gets tossed around so casually these days, but rarely are we invited to consider what it felt like in real time—or consider what happens next. The distance between those life-altering, spotlight memories and the intimate, mundane details of our daily life are sometimes closer than we realize; Robert Fromberg brings us back to these delicate moments of in-between. He artfully sifts through his childhood for moments that bring his story to life; I got the sensation of locking eyes with an intriguing stranger on the bus, and not wanting to look away. I have tremendous respect for what Fromberg has done here and I am honored to be among the first readers for this extraordinary memoir.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Good memoir makes you feel like the author is sharing the deepest part of themselves with you; you feel privileged to receive it and you feel you have made a new friend in the process. Great memoir holds its shards of memory up to the light, looks into them, through them, to something larger. How to Walk with Steve does both. Fromberg shares forensic details of his childhood with an alcoholic, pill-addicted mother and his brother Steve, who has autism. We watch as he reveals his deep caring for Steve, and we cringe as he blames his mother's behaviors on himself, as so many children of alcoholics do. We watch in real time the daily grinding down inflicted by that alcoholic mother: the shame, the self-flagellation, the internalization of the alcoholic's criticisms. The book is told in vignettes, like memories that flash through our minds, imprint their pain and move on. The effect is almost like being inside Fromberg's mind. We feel his victories, his embarrassment, his pain along with him. We commiserate with him every step of the way, and his reflections on his pain comfort us in our own. I loved this book.
Robert Fromberg's stream of conciousness writing style takes some getting used to but is very effective in getting his experiences, thoughts, and reactions across. The middle child in a dysfunctional family defined by alcoholism, addiction and the impact of the autism of his younger brother Steve, Robert was continually trying to find a place where he fit in. The unpredictability and instability of his young years and the tremendous anxiety he carried as a result are heart breaking.
The book covers his childhood years, life as a teen living on his own in NYC, and his life as a young adult when he became guardian of Steve following the death of his parents.
Touching, painful, raw, and yet sometimes funny, I applaud the author's courage in sharing his experiences with us. This book is a lesson in resilience, spirit, and love,
My thanks to NetGalley and Mindbuck Media for allowing me to read an ARC of this memoir which is scheduled to be published 9/7/2021. All opinions expressed in this review are my own.
This book was so distasteful to me, I had to stop reading. There were no redeeming characters or situations. I had to pause and read the summary to make sure it wasn’t the narrator who was autistic. This family was so totally dysfunctional, and the prose so disjointed, I finally had to give up. I just don’t understand the high praise other readers gave it. One review stated that Rob ( the author) was the kid 99% of the class thought was cool. What I have read so far Rob is clueless with no friends. I guess he must reinvent himself as he gets older but I don’t think I can continue reading to find out. So I jumped to the last section of the book and feel vindicated in not wasting my time. I don’t know who was more out of touch with reality Steve or his brother. What a downer!
Thanks to NetGalley and Mindbuck Media for the ARC! ----- The one thing that really stuck with me from the beginning of this book was the style of writing. At first, I wasn’t sure how I would like reading a book that seemed more a stream of consciousness than an ordered plot, but it turned out to be one of my favorite things about it. • I love that as a child, Fromberg has a unit of measurement for how long it would take him to recover from an embarrassing situation. I love his descriptions of Steve. The way he had to grow up prematurely, and his descriptions of the things he went through.
Fromberg has a really beautiful, inviting voice. The entire book felt like a personal conversation with a great storyteller. The interwoven vignettes create relatable and poignant moments across a lifetime and it reads like looking through a family photo album. While this work explores autism, this is not an "book about autism" - it is more an everyday element in the lives of the characters, in the same way that being in Peoria or experiencing certain pieces of art shape their world. Easy to read but not fluffy. Introspective yet still universal. Fromberg's prose is the shining star of this book.
This memoir reads with a methodical pace that feels both empathetic and thorough, particularly with the author's ability to recount specific details from decades ago and from what must have been a peculiar and hectic young life.
It's an interesting memoir in that it's not the typical "I was born in blah blah blah" chronological regurgitation and/or irrelevant scope that plague the more typical memoir. Rather, it's a collection of snapshots. Detailed snapshots, yes, but not tedious or irrelevant. Somewhat documentary but with a degree of detail that brings you, the reader, into the room/situation/experience described at the time.
Short and interesting, honest and without sappy sentiment.
Fromberg has written a wonderfully fascinating book not only about his relationship with his autistic brother Steve but also about family, relationships and his place in the world. His style is direct and witty; the format of the book, short vignettes set within specific time periods, propelled the story along for me. It was very hard to put down. Highly recommended! Bravo, bravo, bravo!
Plain and simple: I love this book and think you should read it. It is a collection of microbursts, illuminating the human condition with both humor and tenderness. I can't recommend it highly enough.
I finished this book weeks ago, and am still unsure of how to properly review it. I LOVED the viewpoint of raising an autistic brother, especially in a time when autistic folks weren't treated well. I am from close to where the author grew up in Illinois, so I also loved knowing exactly where he was talking about - Bradley University, Lamb's Farm, etc.
However, I struggled to get into the writing style. I understand the choice to write in such a chunked way, alluding to how our memories of childhood are scattered and not linear. Not sure if I struggled with it because I was reading it on vacation, and my brain wanted a "lighter" read, but I was never fully invested in Robert's story in the way I'd hoped I would be. Too many holes in the story - a second wife and kids, for example, that I would have loved to know more about!
In all, it's still a book I would recommend to people with autistic siblings or children, but I don't know that I'd recommend it widely to anyone looking to read a biography.