This is a solid 3.5. Alexandra Fuller's previous "horrible book" is better, but her writing is very good in this one as well.

In this book, the author describes the path of both her parents and their families that lead them to live in a few countries in Africa. Fuller's family is very eccentric and went through many life-changing events, remaining stoically true to themselves. The author is completely honest about the way her ancestors thought of their presence in african countries and how they lived. I learnt a lot about the recent history of these countries and Fuller doesn't mince words regarding the deeds done in the name of the british empire. There are some very sad moments in the book and the life of the family but eventually their stoicism, humour and love of life would always ressurface. I really enjoyed it so I may try to find the other "Awful Books".

Very moving and thoughtful story of Fuller's parents' lives in Africa and the shift from colonialism to African independence during their time there. Fuller balances a willingness to criticize her parents' worldview with a respect for the challenges they survived. She shows how much Africa changed over a very short period of time. Her family stories are often hilarious and the historical context she offers around events like the Mau Mau uprising and the Boer and Rhodesian wars are fascinating. She has an eye for detail that tells the story better than any litany of dates and events.

I have read other stories of growing up in Africa that focused more on today and what led to some of the conditions today. This story touches on that, but focuses on the land, the animals, the people and why someone would choose to stay and live in Africa, even after conditions deteriorate. It is beautifully written.

Not nearly as good as Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight....

Not as good as "Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight", but worth the read.

At first I found the book to be a bit disjointed. It was set up to feel like an apology letter to Fuller's mom for her first book "Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight", referenced throughout this memoir as the Awful Book. It wasn't until after about 130 pages that I felt a story was emerging -- but it was similar to the one I read before. It has been a long time since I read the first book, so it's hard to tell what new nuances Fuller offers. I liked it well enough, but I recall liking the first much better. She referenced the bad stuff, but sugar coated the details.

I enjoyed Fuller’s first book more, but this one, an homage to her mother, was also quite interesting. Although the book attempts to organize itself linearly, it actually flits around and skips big chunks of time, but the chapters are so packed with interesting information that you forget to notice. The most interesting thing about the book, in my opinion, is how it sucked me into completely seeing things from a racist, colonialist perspective. Fuller’s mother, Nicola Fuller of Central Africa, is one million percent Scottish Highlander, with a genetic predisposition for valuing clan, land, and feuding. Her mother is also an uppity Brit, but does not relate to being posh. Somehow, she and her husband transfer their powerful ethnic identities to their love of Africa and their identities as white Africans. They are hard-working, hard-drinking, hard-living people, and they bounce from being members of the right “set” and full of privilege to being homeless and unable to get health care for their dangerously ill baby. They love Africa and all they want is to own land there, to have their own farm, and to work hard, surrounded by their beloved animals. They believe completely in their right to be in Africa, to run real Africans off their land, to fight and kill real Africans in order to have access to the most fertile and beautiful pieces of Africa’s red soil. Fuller does any amazing job of capturing her parents’ love for Africa, its healthy soil, its unmatched equatorial light, the wide open spaces and wild animals, and the sense that living their brings life-or-death adventure every day. Fuller herself, although raised in Africa, has enough distance from colonialism to recognize her parents’ racist and crazy colonialist attitudes . . . but even so, I was sucked right in to their point of view.

Alexandra Fuller has the ability to completely capture a moment or a person's character in a perfect sentence or a well-placed quote. Just as when I read her first memoir, I was completely immersed in her portrait of her family and a vanished society; her thoughts on the inevitable but long-drawn-out end of that society, its costs, and the nature of healing and survival are beautiful and gracefully written.

The book starts a little slowly, but builds powerfully. I had to put the book down and take a break at the chapter "Olivia" because I'd read the first book and knew what was coming, but another loss later I had forgotten, and the terribleness of that moment was presented in all its layers (the sadness, the indifference of the nurses and why). The last couple of chapters feel redemptive. I don't know if her mother will read another of her Awful Books, but this one is a complex, fascinating, and deeply loving portrait.