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“Pop left when I was eight to become a famous painter, and returned twenty-five years later as a playful, cantankerous, opinionated shadow of his own ambitious youth, and still unknown. I've painted him here, in words, as I came to know him through his last two decades, moving toward a surprise ending that was, in retrospect, entirely consistent with his eccentric nature and his life. A wry and uncompromising tribute from an exasperated, bemused, admiring daughter.." |
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— SMC |
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From [Suzy] Charnas, a true and tender account of caring for her aging father from the time of his truculent arrival at her home to his irascible last illness and death... The author makes good use of entries from [her father's] journals, full of amusing, brittle, sad, and hopeful anecdotes and musings, epigrams, and reflections on art and life... to capture the mix of guilt, longing, impatience, and empathy that characterizes their relationship. Anyone who has cared for aging and ill parents will recognize and perhaps be comforted by this frank delineation of the mixed emotions called up by the death of a father. |
— Kirkus Reviews |
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.... a moving, thoughtful... never sentimental account of how daughter and father get to know each other in middle and old age. . . Robin's unique combination of eccentricity and strength speaks for itself... Charnas' story is bound to be a guidebook and an inspiration for anyone caring for aging parents. |
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— USA Today |
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An Excerpt:
Most Americans talk about “family” and “family values” without having a clue as to what we’re dealing with here. All of our schematics about this -- ideals of the Right and of the Left -- fall so breathtakingly short of the variety found in reality that there’s hardly anything to do in response but fall down laughing hysterically, turn on the TV, or walk off a rooftop, depending on your mood at the time.
Sometimes I am sorry for Pop, the archetypal loner, hanging baffled in a web of women and other entangled men, trying to separate from it but always linked by threads he can’t quite break—and doesn’t quite want to (no one forced him to keep coming for dinner, or staying in touch with his daughters).
Sometimes I am sorry for Pop, the archetypal loner, hanging baffled in a web of women and other entangled men, trying to separate from it but always linked by threads he can’t quite break—and doesn’t quite want to (no one forced him to keep coming for dinner, or staying in touch with his daughters).
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Editions: |
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ElectricStory.com |
e-version |
May 2001 |
ISBN: B0040R1W |
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Jeremy P. Tarcher |
Hardcover |
September2002 |
ISBN: 1585421855 |
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