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astoney's review against another edition
5.0
http://ashleighstonehewer.wix.com/the-book-shelf#!Review-Boy-Lost-by-Kristina-Olsson/clao/5540620e0cf2731335014852
The front cover of Boy, Lost defines Kristina Olsson’s work as a “family memoir”. And it is. It tells of how a whole family is affected by the grief of one moment: a mother has to deal with the loss of a son who is stolen from her arms, a lost boy has to search for his stolen childhood, and a family has to live with the ghosts of that boy, lost, who haunts them.
But the devastating truth is that Boy, Lost tells the story of more than just one family. It tells the story of many families all over Australia, of children lost and stolen, and it is fed by the ghosts of an Australian history that is often forgotten. There is often a desire to ignore the mistakes of our past, but Boy, Lost refuses to let that happen; it draws the reader into the past, into the heart of the storm, and forces them to witness the truth of our past and the lies on which this country is built. There is no escaping it either because once you delve into Boy, Lost you are lost in its pages, trapped by both the poetic prose, which marches you forward through devastating acts and heartbreaking emotions, and a world that has been created in such a way that it feels real and inescapable.
Olsson succeeds in transporting a contemporary reader back to a time they might not know or remember; she recreates a history—and, for many, a reality—that seems to rise from the pages of the book. It is then that the reader cannot escape the reality of what they are reading: Boy, Lost “wasn’t a story” (220).
We are led to question in what kind of world can a lawyer tell a mother not to fight for her son? In what kind of world do people not help a frail and scared young woman whose son is being ripped from her arms? In what kind of world does a little boy get returned to a home that is not safe or healthy? We are so sucked into the book, trapped in it, that it is impossible for us to escape the truth: our world. It was in our world, in our country, in our home that these realities happened day in and day out, to families all over Australia, and Boy, Lost will not let us escape that again.
Boy, Lost is a family memoire. It is a memoire for all the children that have been lost and stolen, for all the parents who have lost and been stolen from, and for all the remaining family members who were left, as Kristina Olsson and her siblings were, to deal with the darkness buried behind the happiness of a good childhood with a grieving mother.
Olsson’s memoire frees her family from the ghost of a lost boy that had haunted them and from the grief that cascades down the generations; however, Peter’s reunion with his lost family “wasn’t even an ending” (220), because it is real life and that does not just end. Despite that, Boy, Lost leaves us with that hope that if the memoire is not an ending, perhaps it could be a beginning where there is a new boy, a new man, waiting to be found.
The front cover of Boy, Lost defines Kristina Olsson’s work as a “family memoir”. And it is. It tells of how a whole family is affected by the grief of one moment: a mother has to deal with the loss of a son who is stolen from her arms, a lost boy has to search for his stolen childhood, and a family has to live with the ghosts of that boy, lost, who haunts them.
But the devastating truth is that Boy, Lost tells the story of more than just one family. It tells the story of many families all over Australia, of children lost and stolen, and it is fed by the ghosts of an Australian history that is often forgotten. There is often a desire to ignore the mistakes of our past, but Boy, Lost refuses to let that happen; it draws the reader into the past, into the heart of the storm, and forces them to witness the truth of our past and the lies on which this country is built. There is no escaping it either because once you delve into Boy, Lost you are lost in its pages, trapped by both the poetic prose, which marches you forward through devastating acts and heartbreaking emotions, and a world that has been created in such a way that it feels real and inescapable.
Olsson succeeds in transporting a contemporary reader back to a time they might not know or remember; she recreates a history—and, for many, a reality—that seems to rise from the pages of the book. It is then that the reader cannot escape the reality of what they are reading: Boy, Lost “wasn’t a story” (220).
We are led to question in what kind of world can a lawyer tell a mother not to fight for her son? In what kind of world do people not help a frail and scared young woman whose son is being ripped from her arms? In what kind of world does a little boy get returned to a home that is not safe or healthy? We are so sucked into the book, trapped in it, that it is impossible for us to escape the truth: our world. It was in our world, in our country, in our home that these realities happened day in and day out, to families all over Australia, and Boy, Lost will not let us escape that again.
Boy, Lost is a family memoire. It is a memoire for all the children that have been lost and stolen, for all the parents who have lost and been stolen from, and for all the remaining family members who were left, as Kristina Olsson and her siblings were, to deal with the darkness buried behind the happiness of a good childhood with a grieving mother.
Olsson’s memoire frees her family from the ghost of a lost boy that had haunted them and from the grief that cascades down the generations; however, Peter’s reunion with his lost family “wasn’t even an ending” (220), because it is real life and that does not just end. Despite that, Boy, Lost leaves us with that hope that if the memoire is not an ending, perhaps it could be a beginning where there is a new boy, a new man, waiting to be found.
ajane13's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
sad
fast-paced
4.0
maree_k's review against another edition
5.0
Boy, Lost is an incredible book. I knew of it (vaguely) but it wasn't until it won the 2014 Kibble Award that I picked it up to read. From the beginning, its raw honesty drew me in.
This is not an easy book to read. For me parts of it echoed events that had happened in my life, and the lives of my family. This is one of the great strengths of this memoir, that Olsson draws parallels between the events suffered by her mother and family and those suffered by many other Australians: the Stolen Generations, the Forgotten Children, those abused and violated by institutions supposed to care for them.
The writing is brilliant. I want to go through it line by line and try to tease out how she imbues such power in her writing. Each phrase, each paragraph is composed and controlled while simmering with pain. In the early stages of the book I almost found it too difficult to read; it literally took my breath away with the brutal honesty of its portrayal of domestic violence and grief.
But this book is life. It examines with honesty and love the tragedies that shape our lives, the holes they create, and the ways we strive to fill them. I can't recommend this book highly enough. It is an important book not only about one Australian family, but about many.
This is not an easy book to read. For me parts of it echoed events that had happened in my life, and the lives of my family. This is one of the great strengths of this memoir, that Olsson draws parallels between the events suffered by her mother and family and those suffered by many other Australians: the Stolen Generations, the Forgotten Children, those abused and violated by institutions supposed to care for them.
The writing is brilliant. I want to go through it line by line and try to tease out how she imbues such power in her writing. Each phrase, each paragraph is composed and controlled while simmering with pain. In the early stages of the book I almost found it too difficult to read; it literally took my breath away with the brutal honesty of its portrayal of domestic violence and grief.
But this book is life. It examines with honesty and love the tragedies that shape our lives, the holes they create, and the ways we strive to fill them. I can't recommend this book highly enough. It is an important book not only about one Australian family, but about many.
amrap's review
5.0
I read a review of this memoir and was intrigued. A young bride in the 1950s is escaping from her abusive husband. She's sitting on the train with her one year old son on her lap when her husband appears like a horrible nightmare. He snatches the boy and threatens to kill her and him if she ever tries to find her son.
And so this family memoir of loss, grief, and longing begins. It's the story of a mother who is always grieving and searching, a son who is lost without a maternal presence, and a family that grows up in the shadow of this. It's a memoir about a time in Australian history when children were stolen, when women had no agency and when motherhood was viewed as a personal burden. Reading this memoir made me so angry and sad at the way society failed mothers and children, and so grateful to be born in this time. Cannot recommend this highly enough.
And so this family memoir of loss, grief, and longing begins. It's the story of a mother who is always grieving and searching, a son who is lost without a maternal presence, and a family that grows up in the shadow of this. It's a memoir about a time in Australian history when children were stolen, when women had no agency and when motherhood was viewed as a personal burden. Reading this memoir made me so angry and sad at the way society failed mothers and children, and so grateful to be born in this time. Cannot recommend this highly enough.
wtb_michael's review against another edition
4.0
A heartbreaking memoir about a family with a missing piece. There's solace to be found in the life that Olsson's mother manages to piece together after her horrific first marriage and the loss of her first child, but it's riven through with sadness and regret. The ending felt a little rushed, and the author sweeps aside some potentially interesting post-reunion tensions between mother and son, but there's a terrific/awful story here that deserves a wide audience.
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