Anne Roiphe's memoir is stark and to the point. She begins the first chapter with poignant descriptions of her neighborhood, its people, daily activities, and important locations to her childhood. Although what she describes, is beautiful architecture, and sophisticated lifestyles: this is the 1930s, who lives like this? She writes, "All the women had their hair done, permed, dyed, set in curlers, and dried and combed out twice a week, and a lady came to the house to wax their legs and a traveling salesman came to the door with his suitcase of fine linens imports, who knows how, from war-torn Europe." (8) She explains that "Jewish" is not accepted in normal, Episcopalian society; therefore, Jews have a whole section of Park Avenue to themselves with their own clubs, doctors, apartments, grocery stores, and the like. She explains that they don't celebrate Jewish holidays, they don't learn Hebrew, and once on American soil they try to forget their roots, not embrace them. Her prose is matter-of-fact, but shockingly truthful in what she reveals. After discussing quite plainly the affluent nature of her childhood, she goes on to describe the day her little brother was born. Breast-feeding is not allowed. She is not allowed to touch her little brother because her nanny, Greta, fears that she will infect him with germs. She is not allowed to wear blue that color is for boys only. Anne's mother, Blanche, is virtually drugged unconscious during the whole birthing. Anne's father, Gene, is not present. He's at the club. He sent flowers. When she describes methods used for potty training, it is foreign to modern readers' eyes:

Children were trained by and force and usually soon after their first birthdays. Disobedient children were wrapped up in their soiled sheets and left in their beds for hours. Disobedient children could be enclosed naked in a closet. You trained a child the way you trained a puppy. This was not cruelty. This was common practice… (13)

Anne reminisces about the strained relationship between her...

Since she doesn't spend that much time with her mother, only fifteen minutes each day after dinner and before bed, and even less time with her father, she contemplates her parents the way a psychologist contemplates a client. Perhaps parents are unwilling or unable to discern how much children glean from daily interactions between adults, but they understand more than we give them credit. From the beginning of understanding, Anne is aware that her household is at odds. She knows that her father is not particularly in love with her mother, and perhaps finds Blanche annoying. He runs hot, with a loud temper and an even icier exterior. Her mother is perpetually anxious and self-doubting; is this the correct dress to wear? Am I capable of taking care of my sick son? Better let the nanny do it.
Anne explains her brother's sickness: "He has allergies and gets rashes that drive him crazy with a need to itch. He gets impetigo and sores that don't heal. He is covered with creams and smells of sulfur…He gets asthma from the fibers in the rugs…He sneezes and wheezes from pitch pollen and from pine needles, from goldenrod and roses." (33) She contrasts her brother's weaknesses to her robust strength and love of the outdoors, the sunshine, the park. Her bother despises it.

The end of chapter five outlines her father's contempt for his son and his wife. He feels they are short, weak, and anxious; qualities he despises. A defining moment for this chapter is when there is a conflict between Blanche and Gene, which erupts into a verbal fight in the hall. Gene is hurling insults at Blanche when Anne's brother, Johnny, in his weakened state from asthma attacks, totters down the stairs to launch himself at Gene, screaming for him to leave his mother alone, beating Gene's legs with his weak arms. "After my brother charged forward to protect his mother there was a bond between us, I am older Gretel, he a younger Hansel, a dangerous wood, a longer night ahead and we are short of bread crumbs." (47)

In…