Believe It or Not

From the first sentence in The Glass Castle and throughout the book, one unbelievable event to next continues to unfold.  It’s as if that familiar kid that everyone knew in elementary school is back from summer vacation telling one fantastic tale after another.  You never knew rather to believe the stories of adventure and wonderment or shrug them off as just another fairytale in the life of a third grader with a hyper active imagination.  However, there is something endearing and honest about Jeannette Walls’ memoir that convinces the reader to believe every word, every occurrence, no matter how unbelievable they appear to be.

              It could be argued that the events in The Glass Castle are believable because the book is a memoir. Memoirs have to be true, right?  Perhaps the book is believable because the narrator is also a character in the book, but, as a fiction writer I must admit that it crossed my mind that maybe the creative portion of creative non-fiction occupied more space than the non-fiction portion.  Seeing one’s mother “rooting through a dumpster” and instead of leaving the comforts of your taxi to help, you instruct the driver to “turn around and take me home to Park Avenue” reads more like a rags to riches box office hit than a memoir. Regardless, what makes the book endearing is the narrator’s guilt “I was embarrassed by them, too and ashamed of myself for wearing pearls and living on Park Avenue while my parents were busy keeping warm and finding something to eat.” This is where things get interesting.  If there is guilt, there is a relationship with meaning.   Once the reader makes this connection it becomes plausible that a three-year-old cooking hot dogs can set herself on fire and consequently needs recusing for the safety of a hospital to return home where she is unattended, “You don’t have to worry anymore, baby,” Dad said. “You’re safe now.

              Walls skillfully reveals the irrational decisions of Rose Mary by providing vivid examples of characters from a child's point of view. Rose Mary Walls for example turns every unfortunate turn of events into something wonderful.  When she pulled a piano from the front door through the back instead of into the house, she said, “Oopsie-daisy most pianist never get the chance to play in the great out-of-doors, and now the whole neighborhood can enjoy the music too.”  The fact that most people don’t drive pianos through the house or leave them in the back yard is never discussed. As a craft choice, not discussing it shows how irrational Rose Mary really is and further convinces the reader to believe unbelievable behavior.

 It’s not until her children are starving that change occurs, “It’s not my fault if you’re hungry!” she shouted. Don’t blame me. Do you think I like living like this? Do you?   The family rule had been broken, "We were supposed to pretend our life was one long and incredibly fun adventure." For the reader, things begin to come into focus, unbelievable events become normal. I believe.