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Growing Up Haunted
by Jennifer Finney BoylanFrom the bestselling author of She's Not There comes another buoyant, unforgettable memoirI'm Looking Through You is about growing up in a haunted house...and making peace with the ghosts that dwell in our hearts.
From the bestselling author of She's Not There comes
another buoyant, unforgettable memoirI'm Looking Through You is about
growing up in a haunted house...and making peace with the ghosts that dwell in
our hearts.
For Jennifer Boylan, creaking stairs, fleeting images in the mirror, and the
remote whisper of human voices were everyday events in the Pennsylvania house in
which she grew up in the 1970s. But these weren't the only specters beneath the
roof of the mansion known as the "Coffin House." Jenny herselfborn Jameslived
in a haunted body, and both her mysterious, diffident father and her wild,
unpredictable sister would soon become ghosts to Jenny as well.
I'm Looking Through You is an engagingly candid investigation of what it
means to be "haunted." Looking back on the spirits who invaded her family home,
Boylan launches a full investigation with the help of a group of earnest, if
questionable, ghostbusters. Boylan also examines the ways we find connections
between the people we once were and the people we become. With wit and
eloquence, Boylan shows us how love, forgiveness, and humor help us find
peacewith our ghosts, with our loved ones, and with the uncanny boundaries,
real and imagined, between men and women.
Dirty Deeds
I was in a biker bar. There were worse places. My colleagues, who had names like
Lumpy and Gargoyle, thought no less of me simply because I was an English
professor. It's nothing to be ashamed of, one dude suggested. It's what's inside
your heart that counts.
The venuethe Astrid Hotel, in Astrid, Mainewas famous not only for the
skankiness of its patrons but also for its ghost, an undead girl who walked its
tattered hallways weeping in her pajamas. She'd drowned in the twenties, in the
nearby Kennebec River. The girl was determined, supposedly, to find her father
and her sister, who'd been guests of the hotel, back in the day. Hey. Don't you
know I can't swim?
I had come to the Astrid to play with my friends in an R&B band, Blue Stranger,
up on the hotel's grandiose stage, in what had once been a fancy ballroom. Now
it had a cement floor, fiberglass tiles on the ceiling. On one wall was a
rough-hewn mural of the north country. ...
An unexpectedly graceful mix of ideas about ghosts, childhood, sexuality, gender, family, death, and the many ways one can be haunted...continued
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(Reviewed by Lucia Silva).
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