I admit that I picked up The time Mom met Hitler, Frost came to dinner, and I heard the Greatest Story ever told by Dikkon Eberhart because of the cover. It was too interesting, too poetic not to read it.
Unfortunately, I only made it half way through before I realized that I didn't care about the story. Had I been a fan of, or even had heard of the poet Richard Eberhart, I think I would have enjoyed this memoir more. I would have known more of where Dikkon Eberhart was coming from.
Instead, all I felt through the first half of this book was name dropping. Frost this, Ginsberg that, and so on. Yet none of these encounters, none of these memories seem to hold substance. Yes, Eberhart met and grew up around literary geniuses, but the meetings within the book are so fleeting and seem so insubstantial. I felt like every page dropped a new name but there was no story behind it.
Granted, I am not a big reader of poetry. So I may have been prejudiced even before I began reading. Again, I feel like those who are poetry lovers would have felt more immersed in the reading of the book. Besides the well known poets listed, I didn't recognize the other people mentioned, so their name dropping meant nothing to me.
Eberhart did have an interesting upbringing. His memoir does impart some wisdom and fun stories. But for the most part it didn't interest me enough to continue reading it. A poetry lover would probably feel completely different and would probably recognize each and every person that Eberhart mentions in the book. That could make all the difference for a reader!
This book was sent to me by Tyndale Publishing in exchange for my honest review.
No comments:
Post a Comment