March 1, 2009
NPR commentator Hannon explains why"hardship and hard living are great enhancers."
"Nonsmokers, Yankees, professors and even men" can also be Cracker Queens, she avers, so long as they live by this dictum:"I have a choice in how I see and react to things. I can choose to accept whatever comes at me with love and gratitude. I don't have to be oppressed—or anyone's victim. I can live large even if I'm huddling in a hovel." Given this premise, it's not surprising that the author recounts a difficult youth of scant means dominated by an alcoholic, mentally ill mother and a much-loved father she saw only on weekends and holidays. Entitlement is not an issue here, and Hannon hails the power of laughter as the iron lung of life. Nonetheless, she frequently wrings the heart with her portrait of a home life ever on the verge of combusting, periodically igniting into mayhem. Crazy relatives came by the bucketful, and the author draws a careful line between complete losers ("Scooter was the nastiest waste of protoplasm that ever walked the earth") and those whose weaknesses are evidence of their humanity. Her uncanny emotional balance allows her to extract nuggets of goodness from a mother with a lavish soul but a lot of problems, and from her Savannah, Ga., neighborhood, so crime-ridden that the local old men formed a"Geriatric Militia" armed with .45s and .38s. Life is short, so why be tasteful, she asks. Isn't it better to be fearless, authentic and have a sense of humor? Wouldn't you prefer love, forgiveness, thankfulness and purpose? These are not merely palliatives for Hannnon, but daily considerations.
A bracing, heart-gladdening embrace of human foibles and strangeness.
(COPYRIGHT (2009) KIRKUS REVIEWS/NIELSEN BUSINESS MEDIA, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)
April 1, 2009
As Hannon, a contributor to NPR's "All Things Considered", writes of her impoverished childhood in a dysfunctional family in Georgia, her college experiences, and a career in marketing, she touts the core values of love, forgiveness, and gratitude that helped her make her way; she also writes that one needs to conquer fear and whup some ass. Despite the soundness of the values she espouses, the hard-luck story she relates here is nothing more than a series of sound bitesshe jumps from one incident to another without much cohesion or continuity, e.g., one chapter starts and ends with Hannon buying school clothes but takes unrelated detours in between. There are some fun chapters on "haints" (the Southern term for ghosts), but the book feels more like a marketing tool for Hannon than a memoir of substance. Not recommended.Gina Kaiser, Univ. of the Sciences Lib., Philadelphia
Copyright 2009 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.
April 1, 2009
Hannons is no ordinary hard life turned golden via bootstraps and hard work. Born into southern poverty, herseemingly effortless wit refreshes despite the pain.Everything you need to know I learned inside a singlewidesets the scene for a world populated by folks staggering drunk, missingfront teeth, and wearing clothes stolen from Kmart. Herchildhood with a hard-drinking mother and relatives only a generation away from eating clay and trapped in a world of polyester and pestilence and overhead fluorescent lightwill breakhearts. Hannonsmusician/itinerant teacher father, an anchor in her life, lived a couple of trailers away until hedied when she was 17, poised for a new life as his ended. Thanks tohis influence and caring, she makes it through school and establishes anacademic life at Atlanta Technical College. She also had a paternal great-aunt whose love of life helped her see choices other than oppression or victimization. Hannons is a distinct voice reminding us that even cracker queens savor and learn from everyday experiences.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2009, American Library Association.)