The Glass Castle

This is a beautiful and heart-wrenching tale, one that somewhat resembles my childhood. It’s a story of survival, and triumph. Some of the stories remind me of things that happened in my childhood. And, reading this made me grateful for what I did have, because what I went through was not quite as bad as everything that Jeannette and her siblings endured.

A very vivid story was when the author (Jeannette Walls) described a room in the rotting house she and her family were living in. There was mold covering the walls, and holes in the floor that led all the way to the dirt below. When I was growing up, our house was a “fixer upper” and somewhat dilapidated, but the holes in our floors at least went directly to the basement and not the true outdoors.

Her father was a drunk, and her mother was always very lost in her art. She mostly just forgot that she had children, and they were left to fend for themselves.

They didn’t go to school; her mother “homeschooled” them. Meaning, she left them to their own devices, and they read books from the library. This is one of the parts that reminded me of my life. I feel like my mother left us alone to fend for ourselves. Our curriculum was also based almost solely on library books. Because they were free.

When Jeannette was about five years old, she burned her stomach while cooking. Her mother was off in another room, painting. She had forgotten about her children. She would often disappear into trance-like states, where nothing existed in her life, except whatever painting she was working on.

(This reminds me of my life because, after my mom got her first computer in 1994, she checked out. That was the demarcation point where she stopped paying attention to her children. We were by then old enough to fend for ourselves at that point (not boiling hot dogs on the stove at five years old) but it still hurt.)

Jeannette had seen her older sister boil hot dogs. She was hungry, so she attempted to make them for herself. The scalding hot water splashed onto her belly and she ended up in the local hospital with third degree burns.

There were questions about her well-being. The doctors asked her if she felt safe and secure in her home. It was the only life she knew, she did feel safe, and it was her home. She knew nothing different. This is why, when the topic of reporting my home life to authorities came up in my very young life, I chose not to. Because the monster you know is better than the monster you don’t.

The doctors wanted Jeannette to stay in the hospital for a few days, because the burning was quite severe. But her father broke her out of the hospital. Shortly after, she and the rest of the family were on the move.

Their family moved all the time. There were many times they could not pay the rent, so they would skip town and try somewhere new. Her mother and father would always spin it as an adventure. (They were also running from the authorities, as they had never paid taxes. They didn’t want to give the government any money.)

They lived as nomads. Sometimes, they would sleep in the car because they could not find anyone who would rent to them. Her father was a drunk who could not keep a job. Her mother every now and again could sell her paintings, but the money never lasted long.

One time they got a lot of popcorn and got sick, eating too much popcorn. But it was all they had. There was no money for food. Her mother hid chocolate from her children and kept it for herself. She was not well. Jeannette tells of her anger at her mother for doing this. But, Jeannette as an adult, I feel as if she forgave her mother, because she realized her mother was insane.

It was a miracle that the children even ate at all.

Her father was always telling Jeannette about this wonderful glass castle he would build “one of these days” for their family. He would tell her about his blueprints and all the lovely things he would create. He would describe each detail to her as if he was a painter, creating a masterpiece.

Eventually Jeannette realized the castle was a creation that would only ever exist in his mind.

Jeannette Walls weaves this horrible tale with grace, forgiveness, and understanding. She holds no grudges against her parents.

Everyone should read this book

The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls, 2005

This post is part of the 31 Days of Bibliophilia series.