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keight's review against another edition
4.0
"A memoir of a political childhood," Saïd Sayrafiezadeh writes of growing up as a child of an Iranian father and a Jewish mother who are members of the Socialist Worker’s Party. His parents separated when he was very young, so for most of his early years, his father was absent fighting for the revolution, while he stayed with his mother attending party meetings and selling The Militant on street corners. It's an intriguing look at how political ideology can be confusing to a child, as when Sayrafiezadeh doesn't understand why he can't eat grapes during the 1965 boycott in support of striking workers. Eventually his mother relents, to a degree, by encouraging her son to eat them in the produce aisle, since stealing from a capitalist system seemed enough of a form of revolt to her. Read more on my booklog
jonbrammer's review against another edition
3.0
Radicalism of any stripe tends to make people less compassionate - their ideology takes the place of real human relationships. This is shown in Sayarfiezadeh's memoir, as his dyed-in-the-wool communist parents are so self-involved and immersed in the world of the Party that they give little thought to how to raise their son. Amazingly, Sayrafiezadeh seems to emerge from the twin childhood traumas of neglect and indoctrination relatively psychologically unscathed. The narrator's politics seem to end up muddled - he has no strong opinion about communism; in fact, he doesn't even know what it is.
haaris's review against another edition
4.0
Saïd's father Mahmoud -- an Iranian immigrant -- and his mother Martha -- Jewish American -- are so enamoured by the promise of the communist revolution that no sacrifice is too large, even if that means abandoning their youngest son's childhood.
Saïd grows up in a world where his father chooses to leave him and his mother. His father is more obsessed with himself and the glamour of being an inspiring leader for the rank-and-file, churning out platitudes on demand. He even tries to bring the revolution to Iran and fails ignominiously.
His mother loves him and cares for him but she cannot leave the imperatives of party activity. She attends Socialist Workers Party meetings and conventions, and enthusiastically and blindly trusts shady comrades. Rather egregiously, she chooses to deprive her son of every little joy (despite having the money and means to provide them) because eschewing ice cream and skateboards means eschewing the evils of capitalism.
The mental scarring this ordeal creates in Saïd's life is palpable. That the pursuit of greatness (or of great-causes) often means jettisoning loved ones into the wilderness is well-known. Take most great names and search beneath the glowing narrative of their achievements: you will surely find spouses left in the dust, children abandoned, parents left to fend for themselves in destitution. This memoir is a reminder that the same torture is endured by family and friends of countless individuals who fail too badly for anyone to write about them.
Saïd's memoir has considerable humour and little sentimentality even though it is, at its core, a heart-breaking story. Through his childhood and as an adult, Saïd wants to be closer to his father Mahmoud, despite his Quixotic endeavours. This attraction and longing for Mahmoud is shared by Saïd's mother Martha as well, who continues to love her husband decades on. Martha's obsession with the SWP, however, poisons her relationship with her son. That they all survive -- especially Saïd -- through all this madness is a miracle.
It's a good memoir.
Saïd grows up in a world where his father chooses to leave him and his mother. His father is more obsessed with himself and the glamour of being an inspiring leader for the rank-and-file, churning out platitudes on demand. He even tries to bring the revolution to Iran and fails ignominiously.
His mother loves him and cares for him but she cannot leave the imperatives of party activity. She attends Socialist Workers Party meetings and conventions, and enthusiastically and blindly trusts shady comrades. Rather egregiously, she chooses to deprive her son of every little joy (despite having the money and means to provide them) because eschewing ice cream and skateboards means eschewing the evils of capitalism.
The mental scarring this ordeal creates in Saïd's life is palpable. That the pursuit of greatness (or of great-causes) often means jettisoning loved ones into the wilderness is well-known. Take most great names and search beneath the glowing narrative of their achievements: you will surely find spouses left in the dust, children abandoned, parents left to fend for themselves in destitution. This memoir is a reminder that the same torture is endured by family and friends of countless individuals who fail too badly for anyone to write about them.
Saïd's memoir has considerable humour and little sentimentality even though it is, at its core, a heart-breaking story. Through his childhood and as an adult, Saïd wants to be closer to his father Mahmoud, despite his Quixotic endeavours. This attraction and longing for Mahmoud is shared by Saïd's mother Martha as well, who continues to love her husband decades on. Martha's obsession with the SWP, however, poisons her relationship with her son. That they all survive -- especially Saïd -- through all this madness is a miracle.
It's a good memoir.
mnemognose's review against another edition
2.0
Long, long, long winded. If not reunited would be TL;dr. Now just TL.
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