I very much enjoyed the research he was able to share in this book, but I think his definition of what is “good” is skewed in that he thinks it isn’t good UNLESS it is directly and intentionally social.

sorry, this was just so poorly written it was not worth wading through. Come on people, if you have a story to tell, tell it, don’t torture it!

I say that because . . . well, there were so many reasons not to like this book and yet I did, a lot. I guess most importantly, the guy can write and he has a story to tell and it was unusual and about things I’m generally interested in.

So, what was wrong? First of all, the whole autism thing. I don’t believe in it. But then, he himself admits in one passage that autism (particularly “spectrum”) will likely one day be considered normal, not something in need of treatment. I would add, as it once was.

Second, there were several times in the book that I thought, geez, if someone treated me like they treat their son, I’d be autistic too. What I mean by that is that they just seemed way too condescending (“good talking”) and judgmental (“good talking” again) and concerned about what the “experts” on autism thought. Add to that that my most normal child had some poop issues herself and absolutely would NOT poop in the pot until she was nearly five . . . and their problems just don’t seem that extreme to me.

And third, considering the above two, maybe the kid didn’t need “healed” at all. Ah, but, the family certainly did. Nothing like shamanism to give that to you!

Great adventure, great setting, great descriptions.

maybe because we have such “survivor personalities” in this family anyway, I didn’t find much in the book surprising. But the various survivor stories were a lot of fun. And it was nice to run into the idea of traumatic growth instead of just PTSD—truly what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.

When Eustace showed up in NYC in his buckskins, he was called Daniel-fcking-Boone. My mother used to say to us, “I don’t know why in the world you all want to live that Daniel Boone life.” You could say I felt a connection.

I guess if I just got down to it, I’d say that you have to read this book. Really. But it is complicated for me because the author is a bigot at the beginning of the book and that horribly irritates me. Examples? She describes Eustace’s neighbors as the “aptly named Hicks clan” and goes through this thing about red necks in SW Virginia not knowing where Maine is when clearly it is that they do not give a sht about a man walking from Maine but do care about a man walking to Georgia. I’ve read her other work and she does not engage in such bigotry about Italians, Indians, Balinese, the poverty stricken or uneducated of any area, hell, not even her fairly hated ex-husband . . . just about hillbillies. I am so sick of it being ok to malign hillbillies. Hillbillies are the very last niggers, or at least we are the very last people you can cop derogatory attitudes toward and still be pc and “inclusive”. Then too, there are some simple mistakes that irritate me because they show her ignorance in ways that Eustace would understand—a passive solar office building with room for two work spaces could not possibly be 20 sq. feet (this is like checking out in the supermarket with 3 items that sell for $1/each and the total coming to $13 and you not noticing that something didn’t add up right) but must be 20 feet square. Or that Eustace’s horse is not a Standard Breed but a Standardbred.

So there’s that. Which pretty much disappears after the first one-third of the book. But then in the last one-third of the book she takes on the doctor/counselor role to diagnose our beloved Eustace, to tell us what is wrong with him, when frankly what is wrong with his is just as obvious from his story as what is so right about him. Just tell his goddamn story already.

But, if you can read this book and get past the author, well, Mr. Eustace Conway is a character, a most admirable character. Both perfect and perfectly flawed.

What I really admire about Eustace is that he lives with reality. The author says he’s the only person she knows who doesn’t live in metaphor but is the real deal. Yeah, that. Nature doesn’t say, “let’s reach an agreement here.” With nature, it really is, lots of times, one way or the other. You screw up, you pay the price. I totally get Eustace’s hard-ass-ness. Because nature, and life really, is hard-ass. But life is also forgiving—like the bread is edible even if it isn’t perfect and at least as this author portrays him, he doesn’t quite get that. You don’t want to try to fillet a squirrel but, you know, maybe you can relax on some of the other stuff.

And maybe there is some problem in talking more about your life than you live it. But considering that most people don’t even have a life, considering that most people pay lip service to tons of things without really living any of it, considering that people are not human if they are not in touch with the earth, I think Eustace’s life says quite a lot.

I wouldn’t really put “not worth consuming” on this if I could figure out how to change it back to wishy washy. Oh well.

Truthfully this book offers little to nothing, unless you’ve lived a life totally devoid of introspection. It is just trite, not bad. It states the obvious and doesn’t develop it. Saccharin, not sugar.

isn’t it funny that this book came into my life right now? There are no coincidences. Loyalties and betrayals. There ya go.

Ok, so the truth is that she and I were the same age and I was contemplating marriage when I watched hers (except I didn’t, I fell into the abyss instead which, come to think of it, was an improvement over the possibility of marriage) and I don’t have the updated version and I still found it very interesting and also boring, depending. Just like life.

not the easiest or clearest read, but so little real cherokee information is available, it is interesting.

easy and entertaining read.

Although the real story is the death of her grandmother and the small town’s reaction which she doesn’t entirely tell. I think there are a few other “real” storied buried in there that she glosses over too. Get brave girl! Tell it.

Half my family had read the book when we saw it. I hadn’t. We all thought it was lovely and well done. The story stayed with me all through the next day too.