Circus Parade (Autobiography)

 

by Jim Tully

Publisher : Devault Graves Books (August 12, 2019)

Softcover, 239 pages

Amazon Listing 

“He was one of those people in the subterranean valley who somehow managed to grow and give something to a world that had no thought of him. Under the make up of a clown his somber expression left him. He pushed his magnificent yellow body around the ring in a tawdry fool’s-parade. He did not walk, he shambled. Over his yellow face was the white paint of the clown. He was, in the language of the circus, a whiteface.”

Originally published in 1927, this is an autobiographical romp of the nearly forgotten writer Jim Tully who growing tired of being a hobo, joined a traveling circus, meeting many interesting characters here. Tully is considered the co-father, along with Dashiell Hammet, of hard boiled literature. He writes with a blunt, brutal style, occasionally mixing in similes to offset the amoral attitude of the author and his companions.

The author quickly rips away any glamour to the occupation which myth or romanticism might have draped circus life with. In fact those who did join with romantic ideas in their heads, were used for quick labor, then robbed and red-lighted - thrown from a moving train car in-between cities. Only the hardnosed, hard hitting crooks who hated everyone ever lasted in the circus. It was a profession for the born loser, the malcontent, the innate drifter, and the simple-headed. Not the young boy with stars in his eyes.

  

Author Jim Tully

Like his previous books, Shanty Irish and Beggars for Life, the book is presented as a series of vignettes, focusing one circus character or aspect about life in the big top. As it is not presented chronologically, it seems that Tully spent much longer in the circus, rather than actually six months. We are given glimpses of interesting characters like the Moss Haired Girl, who died to hair to look like mossy tree bark and pretended to be feral; Lila the Strong Woman, who read too many romance novels and ended up having her heart broken; and John Quincey Adams the black clown who worked in whiteface who, after finding his true calling, comes to a terrible end.

Tully was criticized for the obvious embellishments he made during some of the stories here. Several circus men pointed out his lack of usage of slang idioms common in circus life. The author did write it later in life, and there probably weren’t too many reference books he could consult on the topic, so I believe that accounts for any factual errors. But overall it is a telling and often brutal look behind the tarp of circus life. A world which literally is part of a bygone era - now that Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus has folded its big top for the last time.

For more readings, try books by Rex Hurst.

R. Crumb's: Bible of Filth (Humor)

 

by Robert Crumb

Publisher : David Zwirner Books (December 12, 2017)

Softcover, 336 pages

AmazonListing

This is technically a reprint - or reedition - of a 1990s French collection of Robert Crumb’s work. A “worst of” collection, showing his most shocking, sexual, or brutal material. This reedition adds about a hundred pages of further Crumb material. I was amazed that they managed to weed it down to only 325 pages, as there was so much to choose from. The presentation of the book is a work of art in itself. Leather bound, printed in gold-edged onion-skinned Bible paper, and attached red bookmark. Takes me back to the type of Bible my grandmother would tote around everywhere, except it’s filled with material I actually want to read.

To me it was such a breath of fresh air and reminded me why I became a fan of Crumb in the first place. It is unadulterated pornographic material created without restraint or consideration of outraging the puritan mob. Of course, when much of this material was first created the puritans tended to be conservative Christian republicans, now the pendulum has swung and all the censorious wailing is stemming from the Left. Many of the activist types would have heart attacks at the material here, crying every kind of “ism”, or they might let it go since he’s ostensibly “one of them”, but they often don’t shy away from eating their own. Let that stand as the trigger warning - If you read this book and become offended, then it’s your own fault.

The only recurring characters are Mr. Natural, Flakey Foont, and Devil Girl - who have about three stories together. In them Crumb diagnosis the standard dilemma many men find themselves in today. That of the alpha, beta orbiter (or incell), and female passive antagonist. Well before terms like red pill and cuck were common, we see Crumb basically using those ideas in his art. Mr Natural has the Devil Girl in his pocket, but Foont lusts after her. Upset that this nasty woman openly despises him, Font pretends to be disgusted by all of the horrible sexual things Natural does to her, but is really just upset that he isn’t in the driving chair. A perpetual weakling, who wants to be taken care of, but lusts after women who aren’t willing to do that.

 For more readings, try books by Rex Hurst

Dotter of her Father's Eyes (Biography)

 

by Mary M. Talbot  (Author), Bryan Talbot (Artist)

Publisher: Dark Horse Books; 1St Edition edition (February 21, 2012)

Hardcover, 96 pages

Amazon Listing

This is a fascinating juxtaposition between memoir and biography as the author tells the story of her tempestuous relationship with her father, a scholar on James Joyce's writing, while simultaneously comparing it to Joyce's own relationship with his daughter, Lucia. 

While there are a few surface similarities, such as having the standard love/hate relationship with daddy dearest, there isn't much between that is the same. The author was encouraged by her father to get a career, while Joyce barely noticed his daughters. Mary Talbot went on to have university success in the groan-inducing field of gender studies, while Lucia Joyce spent most of hers in a mental institution, dying around 1982. Perhaps that is part of the point, the shifting dynamics in women's roles in society, but it isn't really presented as such. 

As it turns out, Lucia's is much more interesting. Well her story took place mostly in Paris during the 1920s, how could it not? However not enough of Lucia's mental condition is explained. Her first commitment is almost shown as being almost arbitrary, and that she was frustrated at not pursuing a career. A deeper look shows she is repeatedly diagnosed with schizophrenia, and she was as interested in a family as any woman of her generation. Only no one could measure up to her father. Still it was an interesting read. 

For more readings, try books by Rex Hurst.

Just Tell me When to Cry: A Memoir

by Richard Fleischer

Publisher: Carroll & Graf Pub; 1st Carroll & Graf ed edition (July 1, 1993)

Hardcover, 439 pages

Amazon Listing

“Movies are a funny business. For some reason it is almost impossible to tell a serious story about the film industry without everyone laughing. The worse the disaster, the more hilarious it becomes. You can tell of careers being ruined, fortunes being lost, people being injured, or worse, and the reaction is always laughter. The trouble, I suppose, is that while it’s a serious business, it seems too ridiculous to be taken seriously. After all, it’s only moving pictures on a silver screen.”

This is the memoir of director Richard Fleischer whose career spanned over four decades of Hollywood - a massive feat- and yet still his name remains relatively obscure. Sixty two credits to his name and a host of important critically acclaimed films such as: Soylent Green, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Dr. Dolittle (the original), Tora! Tora! Tora!, Fantastic Voyage, Compulsion, Conan the Destroyer, Red Sonja - the last two he doesn’t mention at all. All well-known films. Many of which still stand up, but still the name remained unknown.

I was more familiar with his father, Max Fleisher, the famous animator - who invented the rotoscope where a film and animation could overlap each other. The creator of Betty Boop. The early rival of Walt Disney, whose only feature film Gulliver’s Travels still stands up. And who was brought down by the heads of Paramount who couldn’t see innovation until it bit them in the ass. But enough of that.

This book is a collection of anecdotes about the authors four decade career and his dealings with various Hollywood talent. It isn’t a straight shot of his life, the author decides to pick out the best, juiciest morsels and give them to us. Who was the best to work with, Edward G. Robinson, and the worst, Charles Bronson, and everyone in-between - Kirk Douglass, Robert Mitchum, Charlatan Heston, Rex Harrison, Orson Welles, John Wayne, Howard Hughes, and so on.

The stories are fun and provide a glimpse into old Hollywood - minus the casting couch - and characters lurking behind the scenes. Truly what a weird, unique, and terrible world. My only consternation is that the best bits for all the films mentioned are already recorded in the trivia section on their respective IMDB pages. So you might as well go look at them rather than spend money here. My only other regret is that he doesn’t mention working with Schwarzenegger at all. You’d think that’d be worth one anecdote. Ah well.

For more readings, try books by Rex Hurst.

Author Richard Fleischer

Confessions of a Cereal Eater (Autobiography)

by Rob Maisch  (Author), Bo Hampton (Illustrator), Scott Hampton (Illustrator)

Publisher: Nbm Pub Co (February 1, 1996)

Hardcover, 64 pages

Amazon Listing

This is an unusual book. People seem to either love it or hate it, depending on how close in age and economic situation they are to the author. This is a collection of five autobiographical tales of varying success, detailing the misspent youth - more or less - of the author. The stories range from when he was very young, to early middle age. The stories of early age and high school are the best, ones which everyone can relate to easily. However, he shows himself to be sexually repressed, socially awkward, and kind of a jerk as he grows older. One who still has passions for the joys of his youth, but can’t emotionally handle adult situations and setbacks without childish explosions or sulking.

 

Each story is drawn by a different artist, but there is a consistency in look and tone running across all of the stories, and remains one of the strongest reasons to read the book. The first story, “Slow Dance” deals with the author’s tribulations at a middle school dance where he’s bullied by jerks, turned down by girls, but eventually the miracle of a first kiss occurs. In “Mean Old Man” the author and some of his buddies take on the neighborhood crank and eventually do enough to run him out of town.

The next tale, “Griffin Love and the Hooker” is a hearsay story about how a pal of the author claims he lost his virginity. A time jump happens in the next story, “Klingon Battle Helmet”, where the writer is in his 20s. He and a friend rip-off a kid with a fake Star Trek collectible. Finally the last one, “Back in the Saddle” is a retread of the old homily “never meet your heroes.” As the author, now manager of a plaza, brings the star of an old Western TV show to promote it and deals with all normal problems surrounding an alcoholic washed-up celebrity. A decent read for the right price.

   For more readings, try books by Rex Hurst.

Stitches: A Memoir (Autobiography) (Graphic Novel)

by David Small   

Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company; Reprint edition (September 13, 2010)

Hardcover, 336 pages

Amazon Listing

“My mother died in 1970, age 58. Maturity, reflection, and some family research have unearthed a few facts, which give a slightly different picture of this taciturn and difficult person. Her physical problems were beyond what I could imagine or understand as a child. Because nothing in our family was ever discussed outright, I only became aware of them years after her death.”

Set in Detroit, Michigan, this autobiography of the semi-famous artist David Small. The author’s family, while seemingly successful on the surface, was a crucible of repressed desires and suppressed hate. The author had respiratory problems as a child and his father, a radiologist, attempted to cure it through x-rays and radiation therapy, which was a common practice back in the day. At fourteen he discovers a lump in his throat, which his parents let go for three years, until it is absolutely necessary to remove. By then it had developed into full blown cancer, and required the removal of his thyroid gland and half of his vocal cords.

If you can believe it, things go downhill from there. He realizes he’s trapped in a house where his father is aloof and his mother doesn’t love him. This leads to the usual juvenile delinquency and eventually a host of other revelations. The author’s only escape is to disappear into his art. I won’t mention them here, but all sorts of things begin to snap into place in this twisted, yet timeless, story. It must have been terrible to live through these events, but it certainly makes for riveting readings- I zipped through all 300-odd pages in a single night.

Art matches the story in tone and brevity. Less is more is the mantra of the visual portion of this memoir and it is certainly effective. Black strokes and grey tones belie a lifetime, family generations, of grey existences and mediocre compromises. It is a grimly uplifting tale, not one that offers much in the way of hope, but there is a slight glimmer at the end of the rainbow. Well worth a read.

  For more readings, try books by Rex Hurst.

The Burning of the World: A Memoir of 1914 (History) (Autobiography)

by Bela Zombory-Moldovan; Peter Zombory-Moldovan (Translation, Introduction)

Publisher: New York Review Books Classics (August 5, 2014).

Softcover, 184 pages

‘What are you up to, Drafi?’

He was about to jump to his feet to report, when the mate spoke up.

‘Sir, he’s found a potato. He wants to plant it in the ground.’

‘It’s got such good shoots. It wants to live. I’m going to plant it. It might live longer than me.’

Poor Drafi.

The potato did indeed outlive Drummer Janos Drafi of the Royal Hungarian Army.”

A brief moment of time with deals with the immediacy of death in World War I, though the author did not realize it at the time. In fact, in 1914 every side assumed the whole thing would be over in a few months with their glorious nation as the absolute victors. With hindsight, we all know that to be nonsense. The tactics of the time, somewhat left over from the 18th century, could not overcome advancements in technology. The machine gun overruled everything.

We see that idiocy in certain parts of the narrative. Hungarian soldiers were ordered by their generals not to dig foxholes to hide from incoming shell fire, because it “smacked of cowardice” and would destroy the discipline of the men. After a General is killed by a direct shell hit, it seems that the order was hastily reversed, but not enough entrenching tools were issued. The author recounts having to hastily dig a foxhole with the top of a biscuit tin. During this campaign, 80 percent of Hungarian officers were killed.

The author in his uniform

While firsthand accounts of life at the front of World War I (or the Great War as they called it at the time) are somewhat commonplace, ones about the Galician campaign are rare. In the course of the battle, the Austro-Hungarian armies were severely defeated and forced out of Galicia, while the Russians captured Lemberg and, for approximately nine months, ruled Eastern Galicia until their later defeat.

This was meant to be an autobiography covering the author’s entire life, but only the part dealing with 1914 was ever finished. The author died in the late 1940s when communism had claimed Hungary. The author, an artist, was ousted from having his work ever displayed again and retreated into solitude to paint by himself and write this unfinished memoir. It was finally published in 2014- one hundred years after the events of this book take place.

Hungarian soldiers at the front

However the actual events of battle is only covered in one chapter of the book, accounting for a total of 21 pages, where he suffers a near fatal head wound and spends the rest of the year recovering. The following six chapters show him traveling about the country, noting how even at the beginning of the war thing had notably changed, mostly for the worst.

For more readings, try books by Rex Hurst. 

Make Me a Woman (Autobiography) (Graphic Novel)

by Vanessa Davis

Publisher: Drawn and Quarterly (September 28, 2010)

Hardcover, 176 pages.

There seems to be a plague of autobiographical graphic novels by Jewish women writing about the “exciting” events of their everyday life, but all they truly do is describe themselves as being banal and tedious. Why are so many of these types incapable of drawing any sort of strip that doesn’t involve their narcissistic self? This group of half-finished shorts is the most tedious yet. While Crumb pretty much popularized the autobiographical comic, at least he drew a lot of other things and wasn’t only masturbating over the minutia of his life like a bland Seinfeld episode.

Clocking in in over a hundred and fifty pages this book offers published work by the author in various magazines, and is padded out with black and white half-finished strips from her sketchbook and full page watercolor paintings of some random character in a dance pose.

Don’t get me wrong. I have read many autobiographical graphic novels by men and women which were great, but this one was simply did not have anything of interest. She grew up in a Jewish dominated community and does not seem to have left that community. In various parts of the United States some of the Jewish customs and foibles are different. The End. There isn’t anything else going on in this book. 

The art style is childish, similar to what a bored twelve year old would doodle in their science textbook. While I suppose this is a stylistic choice and, I’m assuming, that the author is capable of more sophisticated art, it becomes somewhat tedious. No matter what the price, give this book a miss. If you really want to read an autobiographical graphic novel by a female artist, there are so many other good choices to make.

For more readings, try books by Rex Hurst. 

American Widow (Autobiography) (Graphic Novel)

by Alissa Torres & Sungyoon Choi   

Publisher: Villard (September 9, 2008)

Hardcover, 224 pages
 

“I welcomed the grief in the screams of my hard-earned labor. I invited you into each one, mourning you each time as I had not done previously. So badly, I now wanted these moments of unfettered noise that I didn’t have to explain. As I screamed, it felt like sex. I invoked you in my mind as the contraction rose to my lips. I remembered your physicality upon me as I rode each wave of pain. My first intense physical sensation in fifty days. It recalled that world of lust and body I used to inhabit, now made manifest only in grief, with each thrust of life.”

This is an autobiographical graphic novel about the aftermath of 9/11. The author’s husband began his second day of work at a finance office located in the World Trade Center. He was an illegal immigrant who had difficulty finding a job. She was pregnant and the pair had had an argument the night before, from which she was still angry. Then the towers fell and she was left to pick up the pieces and deal with emotions left dangling in the wind.

She is barely a newlywed and is pregnant when her husband Luis died. The story covers the tower’s collapse, the fears, the devastation, the initial support from various agencies (Red Cross, other charities, and eventually the federal government). After which the attacks against the families of (specifically widows) of 9/11 began in the leftist media. The high point of which occurred when Ted Rall published a cartoon mocking the victim’s families and implying that they were all now happy their family members died.

For more readings, try books by Rex Hurst. 

 

 

Definition (Autobiography) (Graphic Novel)

by Ariel Schrag    

Publisher: Slave Labor Graphics (1997)

Softcover, 79 pages
 

 

Once again the back racks of some ancient comic book hole have coughed up rare gem that I was otherwise unaware of. I found this one buried deep in the back of discount graphic novels and for three bucks and thus I discovered an artist I have never heard of before.  Only 19 when she drew this collection of stories, yet the author has a depth of skill unusual for her age.

A collection of autobiographical stories from of the author’s awkward teenage years. They are a fun frank group dealing with the author’s sexuality, various creepy encounters in California, and the thrill of growing up in the latter half of the nineties/early 2000s. It deals with early seuxality and experimentation (both wonderful and terrible). Being a male, it’s interesting to see the perspective of such things from a different gender.

 

The black and white artistic style is one of exaggeration where the emotions of the protagonist are portrayed in bombastic style. The innocent girls, not knowing or unable to change the world, are shown as wide-eyed does threatened by an assortment of ugly and scabby individuals looking to use and abuse them. A little like Red Riding Hood the world is full of wolves wishing to devour their goodies.

While this is a fun story, I have been looking through the author’s other works and see that all of them are simply collections of stories of her growing up, indicating that the author is limited to just talking about themselves.

For more readings, try books by Rex Hurst. 

 

Talk Like Jazz (Autobiography)

By Joseph Cooper

Publisher: Weasel Press (March 18th, 2019)

Softcover, 268 pages 

 

“Because I visit the Remedial Center, I automatically equate my attendance there with stupidity. Hey you stupid stuttering faggot a jock says before pushing me into a locker. Another knocks books out of my hands. Girls cover the laughter in their mouths. It never before occurs to be that I might be stupid or even what stupid means. Only now that I have to speak more slowly thinking intensely of every word I speak and how I intend on speaking it I cannot help but question my intelligence. I only know that for the first time instead of being anonymous or invisible I’m an outsider. See you after class fuckhead another jock shouts. I collect my books and turn the knob hearing fractals of sound collide with silence.”

This is collection of vignettes from the author’s life. The title refers to his lifelong struggle with stuttering, a theme which dominates the text, spiced up with various sexual material. Like many people with similar afflictions he channels his frustrations and humiliations into his artistic endeavors.

Author Joseph Cooper

          In a sense, this book is a typical coming-of-age story of a young boy growing up in a savage town. What sets it apart is the episodic manner that the story parcels out the story. It gently leads you through his various stages of life - from naive early age, to the slap-in-the-face realization that he is different, to the irrational shame one feels in adolescence, to him embracing his differences- all the while still doing all the stupid shit a young man gets up to.

The style is “grammatically light”. The author, known mostly for writing poetry before this autobiography, eschews all apostrophes, commas, quotation marks etc. If you’re one of those anal retentive types that flips out over every misplaced comma you might wish to spare yourself some aggravation. The use of periods means that the disorientation is only mild, a slight bout of linguistic vertigo, rather than a full blow attack as you have with McCarthy’s Blood Meridian, where the lack normal grammar creates a surreal mental landscape.  It reminds of me more of Raymond Federman’s casual conversation style as in Double or Nothing or Smiles on Washington Square.

For more readings, try books by Rex Hurst. 

Children of Yesterday: The 24th Infantry Division in the Philippines (War) (Autobiography)

by Jean Valtin  

Publisher: Battery Press (March 30, 2014)

Softcover, 354 pages

“During an island raid in the Sibuyan Sea I saw a Japanese prisoner tied to a tree and tortured to death by guerillas. The censors refused to pass this not uncommon truth about the war in the tropics. They also stopped an account of Mindanao guerilla groups fighting on the enemy’s side, and a story about an American officer who “built morale” among Moro volunteers by having them mix fresh Japanese blood with hot G I coffee; or an account of the Tacloban brothels where soldiers stood in queues two blocks long in the hot sun with military police allotting no more than five minutes to each man. The censors were sensitive, too, about the unprotested practice of robbing Jap corpses of money, watches, and fountain pens; of the occasional killing of Jap wounded to save labor of nursing and feeding them; about the mere mention of the effects of tropical diseases on our troops; about casualty figures; about the fact- long known to everyone-m that enemy cadavers, if ever buried, were dumped into shallow trenches dug out by bulldozers, or about an Army chaplain who during the burial of an American soldiers was forced by snipers to jump into the grave atop the dead man and fight back. However in a story of an infantry division’s deeds, these are minor details, significant only in their accentuation of the two-sidedness of the misery and the graceless brutality of war.”

This is the follow up biography to Jan Valtin’s Out of the Night where the author described his indoctrination into the Communist party in 1920s Germany, his disillusionment with the authoritarian Leftist policies and their rank hypocrisy, his capture by the Gestapo and being forced to work as an informer for the organization, and his eventual escape to the United States. The previous book was also the first one reviewed on this blog.

Author Jean Valtin aka Julius Krebs

Jan Valtin, as has been since discovered after his demise, was the pseudonym for Richard Julius Herman Krebs. After he resettled in the United States, he published the first book, a best seller, which was later on cast into doubt in certain claims he made in the book. The New York Mirror called it, “A huge literary hoax”. Others defended it. Whatever the case, Children of Yesterday is cut from an entirely different cloth.

Being drafted in 1943, Valtin was deployed to the 24th Infantry in the Philippines to defeat invading Japanese forces. Perhaps mindful of the claims against his last book, which lambasted the lack of official documents to back up his statements, Valtin writes his accounts hand-in-hand with excerpts from the Division Record of the Infantry’s movements. He adds more flavor and color to each action, he was involved with by personal accounts from the men involved in the fighting.

24 Infantry Division

In fact, this barely is an autobiography and is more of a military journal, accentuated by official records and the anecdotes of his fellow fighting men. After the first chapter, he barely mentions himself at all. The results is an excellent, blow-by-blow of the divisions’ actions in the Philippines, the bloody tool it took, and personal snapshots of the men who died to defeat the enemy, from October 1944, until the Japanese surrender.

For more readings, try books by Rex Hurst. 

Shanty Irish (Autobiography) (Crime)

by Jim Tully, Paul J. Bauer (Introduction)

Publisher: Black Squirrel Books (June 2, 2009).

Softcover, 320 pages

“A wife, six children, two cows, a hog, a blind mare and a sense of sad humor, where my Father’s only possessions.  We lived in a log house, in and out the windows which the crows of trouble flew.

My Father was a gorilla-built man. His arms were long and crooked. The ends of his carrot-shaped mustache touched his shoulder blades. It gave his mouth an appearance of ferocity not in the heart. Squat, agile, and muscular, he weighed nearly one hundred and ninety pounds. His shoulders were early stooped, as from carrying the inherited burdens of a thousand dead Irish peasants.”

Jim Tully, along with Dashiell Hammet, was the creator of the hard-boiled style of American writing. This style was later picked up and refined by Ernest Hemingway, H. L. Menchen, and Raymond Chandler. But Tully stands out from all these others in the fact that they simply wrote in the style, while he lived it.

Author Jim Tully

Originally published in 1927, Shanty Irish, like the other novel of his I reviewed, Beggars of Life, this is an autobiographical tale of his life before writing. While the other book dwelled on his life on the road, Shanty Irish, is about the author’s growing up dirt poor in a log cabin in the late 19th century Ohio.

The term Shanty Irish is a derogatory term for poor and uneducated members of the race. As opposed to the Lace Curtain Irish who rose in power, education, and prosperity in America. The equivalent today would be the pejorative “white trash”. Of course, even being educated didn’t stop the old world of America from looking down on the Irish, as the old joke goes-

Q: “What’s the difference between Shanty and Lace Curtain Irish?”

A: “Lace Curtain Irish move the dishes out of the way before they piss in the sink.”

Like many of the old time autobiographies, the author gives a statement of facts as he saw them, but rarely offers any personal emotional insight or comment of his own. This is him relating stories from the past as he saw it, not a pity party for himself. It's what differs this book from Angela's Ashes, Tully offers no pathos for his own childhood.


The author with Charlie Chaplin. If you don't know which is which, punch yourself in the face.

Central to the action is the clan patriarch, his grandfather, Old Hughie Tully. A large boisterous alcoholic who spent most of his later days telling tall tales in saloons in exchange for drinks. Tully's own father was a cold-eyed distant ditch digger. Horse thieves and fraudsters polluted both sides of the family. Poverty was their bumper crop. They were so poor that after his mother died, Tully was placed in an orphanage for six years. All of it potentially heartbreaking, but Tully is a man about it. You would never have known it affected him at all.

Now as to how accurate the book is. That's difficult to tell. Nothing obvious sticks out as false, but Tully was six during the first half of the book, then went to the orphanage and didn't emerge until he was twelve. Thus he had to rely heavily on other's memories. So, a touch of exaggeration, a smidge of the big fish story, was bound to slip in, but that does not mean this isn’t a worthwhile look into a long dead America.

For more readings, try books by Rex Hurst.