![]() ![]() ![]() Some reviewers seem to take offense that Queenan is so hard on his father, only assigning blame. As appalling as that sounds now, it was what it was. I can also remember my mother chastising me for walking home from school with a "colored boy", and telling me to be carefule of Eye-talians". As a Protestant, I remember being very jealous of the Catholic girls at St.Benedict's because they got to wear white dresses and veils for the May procession. I left just as the neighborhood began to change, in the early 60's, but this book rang true to the personalities, the sounds, the catch-phrases, and the mind set of the place. I grew up in that neighborhood about 10 years before Joe. The book holds a particular interest for me. And in a perverse way, Queenan's retreating into books as an escape became, in part, his salvation. It is obvious that Queenan owes his love of language and reading to his father, and gives him credit for such. Quite the contrary, I think Queenen does a good job of trying to find some good to wrap around his father's memory. Other reviews have chastized Queenan for being self-serving and of not seeing any good in his father. ![]() Anyone who has had to deal with an alcoholic in the family can relate to the author's love-hate relationship with his father. ![]() I'd like to read more.Ĭlosing Time is not refreshing, nor is it delightful. ![]()
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