Educated by Tara Westover


by Tara Westover

I hadn’t planned on reading this book, mainly because I have a weird aversion sometimes to anything that gets a lot of hype, and this one has been sweeping best seller lists and social media for a while.  I also read enough about the book to know that it had to do with a woman who was “homeschooled,” and not in a good way, and being a homeschooling parent myself, I’m a little weary of all the stories out there about bad things that happen in homeschooling families that are misguidedly blamed on homeschooling itself.  In any case, I ended up reading it because it was chosen by my book club for this month.

So, if you’ve been living under a rock and haven’t heard about Educated, it’s a memoir about the author’s experience growing up in rural Idaho with parents who are fundamentalist Mormons, survivalists waiting for what they believe are the End Days, and not a little off their rockers.  Westover believes that her father is bi-polar, and perhaps even paranoid schizophrenic, though, because he is utterly anti-medical establishment, he’s never been diagnosed as anything.  Either of those diagnoses seem plausible, and it’s hard to say about Westover’s mother, who seems more manipulative than anything else.

Westover grew up the youngest of seven children, and she didn’t set foot in a classroom until she was 17 years old, when she decided she wanted to go to college despite her complete lack of even a hint of formal education.  To say that she was homeschooled is misstating the reality that she was mostly neglected (and abused, both physically and emotionally).  She did know how to read, but the only books she was exposed to growing up were the bible, the Book of Mormon, and an old history book her father had in the house that described slavery as a terrible institution – for the slave owners.

Her father owned a junkyard and made his living selling scrap from the junkyard, and doing construction.  His goal was for his family to become completely self-sufficient for when The End came; the family stockpiled home canned food, ammunition, and even had massive amounts of gasoline buried on their property.  The kids had “head for the hills bags” which were at the ready for when The End came, which would be prefaced with an attack by government officials (this vision had to do with the real life events at Ruby Ridge, which Westover’s father somehow twisted in his mind in a way that somehow had to do with them).  Westover’s mother worked as a midwife/healer.  She made her own salves, tinctures, oils, and homeopathic medicines that the family relied on for income and for their own medical needs – including terrible injuries that resulted from car accidents, junkyard accidents, fires, and explosions.  The children were expected – no, forced – to help with the junkyard and construction businesses, as well as making medicines.

Westover’s upbringing was filled with violence.  Her father repeatedly exposed the family to horribly dangerous situations which he justified with his faith in the Lord, and Westover’s older brother was especially violent and physically and emotionally abusive.

When Westover was 16, she decided she wanted to go to college so she could learn about music – perhaps be a church music director at some point.  Her desire to get a formal education created a wedge between her and her parents who were adamantly against formal education and believed school to be a favorite haunt of the devil, but Westover made up her mind to teach herself enough algebra and grammar to pass a college entrance exam and be accepted to BYU when she was 17.  From there, she ultimately won a scholarship to Cambridge and attended Harvard where she earned a Ph.D.  It was during her time at Harvard that she became estranged from her parents and most of her siblings – not because she pursued formal education (which ultimately led to her examination and rejection of the religious beliefs she had been raised with), but because she reached out to her parents about the abuse she had suffered at the hands of her older brother, and her parents rejected her version of events.  In interviews, Westover has referred to it as being gaslighted by her parents.

Purely as a piece of writing, Educated is very well written.  It’s thoughtful and articulate and deep.  It’s a good book, and a good story.  At times I felt that it was a bit repetitive and long, but still, a very good book.

I relate to the author quite a bit.  While I didn’t grow up with fanatical religious parents, I did grow up in a very toxic environment that ultimately led to my estrangement from my family, which has gone on for almost 20 years now.  So I very much relate to the damage one suffers as a result of being a vulnerable child at the mercy of violent, abusive bigger people, and I very much relate to the feelings of loss one carries around because of family estrangement.

I did find myself feeling a little frustrated, and even disdainful, at Westover’s willingness to keep going back for more abuse from her family, and also her generosity towards her parents in expressing her belief that they are good people, that they loved their children and did their best.  I have a hard time seeing it that way.  Her father was reckless, abusive, and even sadistic at times, and her mother neglectful, disingenuous, and manipulative.

I also felt frustrated at the portrayal – intentional or not – of both homeschooling and homebirth/midwifery as “fringe” institutions.  As someone who has engaged in both, it bothers me that both of those things are still widely seen as “crazy,” dangerous, etc.  They’re both valid and safe options when approached with knowledge and care, but no doubt many people will read this book and have their worst suspicions about homeschooling and homebirth confirmed.

I went with a friend to a literary lecture last night and Tara Westover was the speaker.  It was fascinating seeing her in the flesh and listening to her talk about some of her experiences and about the writing of her book.  For everything she has experienced and accomplished, she’s actually very young: 32.  One thing she talked about that struck me was that she doesn’t want her story to be seen as one of triumph over adversity, that she’s averse to narratives of people overcoming and achieving through pure grit, because the reality is that it always takes help in one form or another in order for anyone to accomplish goals and overcome hurdles.  So true.

Something else she talked about that resonated with me was how the first version of ourselves given to us by our families does not have to be the final version of ourselves.  This may seem simplistic on its face, but there is a deep truth to this, and isn’t it liberating to know that we can always continue to learn and grow and evolve?

Westover poses a profound question, which really is at the heart of her memoir: What is one to do when one’s obligations to family come into conflict with one’s obligations to oneself?

Educated is an extremely thought-provoking book.

Zinsky the Obscure by Ilan Mochari

zinsky.the.obscure Zinsky the Obscure
by Ilan Mochari

Zinsky the Obscure is a book I agreed to read and review for TLC Book Tours.

tlc-logo-resizedIn this debut novel, we meet Ariel Zinsky as a child.  His parents have divorced, his father leaving the family for another woman, whom he marries and with whom he proceeds to create a second family.  Ariel’s childhood is marked by periodic visits from his father, which are always accompanied by severe beatings.  In between those dreaded visits, Ariel lives with his closest friend, his mother, who serial dates until she, too, lands in a second marriage.

Ariel grows up and becomes, in some ways, larger than life: a six-foot-eight giant with no hair – all of it literally disappears overnight.  He is a deeply flawed, lonely man, scarred by the beatings of his childhood, as well as the absence of love from his father.

We watch him traverse three romantic relationships as an adult: first with a beautiful college co-ed who seems to be lowering herself to date and sleep with Ariel while she’s on the rebound – until Ariel slaps her one night and that’s the end of that; then with the HR supervisor from the accounting job he left, an intelligent, independent, beautiful woman with such an irrational fear of pregnancy that she refuses to have traditional intercourse over the entire three years of their relationship; and a beautiful older woman for whom Ariel pined from afar for years before actually becoming romantically involved with.  Even these relationships manage to seem somewhat mythical: it seems that stunningly beautiful, over-six-feet-tall women are a dime a dozen.  Ariel manages to spectacularly screw up every one of these relationships, perpetuating his own misery: believing himself too flawed, too ugly for real love, he sabotages every opportunity for real love, proving that he isn’t good enough for real love.

Meanwhile, over the course of several years, his obsession with football, conceived in childhood, develops into a pursuit to make it big writing an annual football draft guide, and he goes from living in near poverty and drowning in debt to being a wealthy entrepreneur.

When I agreed to read and review this book, I was cautioned that the scenes of brutality inflicted by father on son might be especially disturbing and difficult to stomach.  I did not find this to be true at all.  Sure, it was unpleasant reading about a father repeatedly punching his nine-year old son, but I’ve certainly read worse.  Those scenes involving Ariel and his father actually fell a little flat for me – they felt one-dimensional and devoid of raw emotion.  More disturbing, I thought, were the scenes of a grown man shitting in a parking lot, near constant masturbation, and graphic depictions of anal sex.

The story sometimes made me laugh, often had me scratching my head in puzzlement, but never made me cry.  I had a tough time with Ariel; I saw his vulnerability and rooted for him up to a point, but in the end, I didn’t like him much, and I didn’t feel a whole lot of compassion for him.   He turns out to be just as big an asshole as the father he despises.  I wanted to see him transcend the abuse of his childhood, but he never does.  He remains fixated on it, blaming the deprivations of his childhood for every bad turn his adult life takes, never taking genuine responsibility for his own life and his own happiness – at least not without inflicting great pain on other people.   There never seems to be an epiphany or turning point for him.

Mochari is a wonderful writer.  Interestingly, despite the fact that I didn’t much like the characters, the writing kept me reading – it moved along at a good clip and held my interest.  However, it lacks a climax, and in the end, although I enjoyed the author’s talent, I was left wondering what the point of the story was.

Then again, the book has received rave reviews elsewhere, which makes me wonder if I just missed the boat.