Sweet Summer by Bebe Moore Campbell
Synopsis: A memoir of 'daddy' and ‘family men' in Bebe’s life.
Writing Style: First person, warm, genuine.
Pacing: Dawdling, though very engaging.
Premise: A distinct portrayal revealing how the QUALITY of time fathers and men spend with children affect their lives.
Personal Highlights: I simply loved this book through and through; from the touch and feel of the cover, to the sights, sounds and feeling of what’s being depicted… starting with Bebe as a child sitting on the steps sucking her thumb anxiously waiting for her paraplegic father to drive up to the house, retrieving her to spend yet another summer with him in the South; to her grandmothers, her mother and aunts…who she refers to as the bosoms, to the many men, in addition to her dad, who guide her through life, and on through the ironies, cultural beliefs and occasional clashes and overall relatedness of her memories… just too much to comment on.
In general I really felt for her cousin Michael… got a good chuckle out of that ‘no bread’ (as in money) ‘no meat’ put in a sandwich, and once more was too titillated to (yet again in a another book) come across mention of one of my favorite poems by Paul Laurence Dunbar… ‘In the Morning!’
I love, love, loved this memoir. Highly recommended!
Writing Style: First person, warm, genuine.
Pacing: Dawdling, though very engaging.
Premise: A distinct portrayal revealing how the QUALITY of time fathers and men spend with children affect their lives.
Personal Highlights: I simply loved this book through and through; from the touch and feel of the cover, to the sights, sounds and feeling of what’s being depicted… starting with Bebe as a child sitting on the steps sucking her thumb anxiously waiting for her paraplegic father to drive up to the house, retrieving her to spend yet another summer with him in the South; to her grandmothers, her mother and aunts…who she refers to as the bosoms, to the many men, in addition to her dad, who guide her through life, and on through the ironies, cultural beliefs and occasional clashes and overall relatedness of her memories… just too much to comment on.
In general I really felt for her cousin Michael… got a good chuckle out of that ‘no bread’ (as in money) ‘no meat’ put in a sandwich, and once more was too titillated to (yet again in a another book) come across mention of one of my favorite poems by Paul Laurence Dunbar… ‘In the Morning!’
I love, love, loved this memoir. Highly recommended!
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