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My Fathers' Houses : Memoir of a Family | Steven Roberts | Warm, insightful and honest
 
 


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 My Fathers' Houses...  

My Fathers' Houses : Memoir of a Family
Steven Roberts, 2005 - 272 pages

average customer review:based on 4 reviews
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Bayonne prepared me well for a larger life and a larger world. I knew who I was and where I was from. I was connected by innumerable little cords to people and places that gave me strength and identity. On The Block I was safe, secure, loved. I even had a number, 174, the address of our house, but the number wasn't a badge of anonymity. To the contrary, it marked my place, where I belonged.

As moving as Russell Baker's Growing Up and Calvin Trillin's Messages from My Father, My Fathers' Houses is the story of a town, a time, and a boy who would grow up to become a New York Times correspondent, television and radio personality, and bestselling author.

In this remarkable memoir, Steven V. Roberts tells the story of his grandparents, his parents, and his own life, vividly bringing a period, a place, and a remarkable family into focus. The period was the forties and fifties, when the children of immigrants were striving to become American in a booming postwar world. The place was one block in Bayonne, New Jersey, and the house that Roberts's grandfather, Harry Schanbam, built with his own hands, a warm and reassuring home, just across the Hudson River from "the city," where Roberts grew up surrounded by family and tales of the Old Country.

This personal journey starts in Russia, where the family business of writing and ideas began. A great-uncle became an editor of Pravda and two great-aunts were original members of the Bolshevik party. His other grandfather, Abraham Rogowsky, stole money to become a Zionist pioneer in Palestine and helped to build the second road in Tel Aviv before settling in America. Roberts returns his saga to Depression-era Bayonne, where his parents, living one block apart, penned love letters to each other before marrying in secret. His father, an author and publisher of children's books, and his uncle, a critic and short story writer, instilled in him a love for words and a determination to carry on the family legacy, a legacy he is now passing on to his own children and grandchildren.

Roberts, too, would leave home, for Harvard, where he met Cokie Boggs, the Catholic girl he would marry, and later, for the New York Times, where he would start his career -- across the river and worlds away from where he began. An emotional, compelling story of fathers and sons, My Fathers' Houses encapsulates the American experience of change and continuity, of breaking new ground using the tools and traditions of the past.


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TOUCHING and REAL

Steve Roberts has written a charming memoir that celebrates his family and an era gone by. Roberts grew up in Jersey City, an area usually reserved for punch-lines of stupid jokes, but Roberts captures all that is to be valued in his hometown. It is refreshing to read a memoir that is not so much motivated by anger and discontent. MY FATHER'S HOUSES is a memoir written to give credit where it is due.


Warm, insightful and honest

First: I'm a big fan of Team Roberts. But I was not expecting the depth of emotion and connection this book evoked in me. I'm a bit younger than Steve, grew up on the West Coast in a WonderBread world, but his descriptions of his background and growing up, full of all the anguish of the less-than-perfect teenager, were astonishingly affirming. I have passed the volume on to another, and expect it will continue to make the rounds. I'm hoping for volume two that picks up at the time they were married and carries on, since there are surely many more stories!


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A refreshing take on the memoir

I am not Jewish, I did not grow up in New Jersey, and I was born the year the author graduated from Harvard. How can I explain the reasons I loved this book? Perhaps the reviewer below summed it up best: it IS refreshing to read a memoir that is not fueled by anger, contempt, or confession. This is a very pleasant visit to a time and place that, while not my own, echo a love of family connections and triumphs. I hope there will be a sequel and I applaud Mr. Roberts for taking the time to reflect upon and share his childhood. We need more books that aren't someone else's therapy.


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