I bought this years ago and loaned it to a friend before I got around to reading it. That friend loaned it to another friend, who loaned it to another friend... I never got my copy back.

They all had excellent things to say about it, though.

This was an enjoyable read, definitely, but the controversy around it is one of the many reasons I dislike the "memoir" genre. Burroughs has certainly fictionalized and exaggerated large chunks of the life story he presents in this book, and I hated to read articles later on about the real people he hurt by misrepresenting.

So: read this, enjoy it, but take it all with a grain of salt. Memoirs are all about sculpting one's life events into a cohesive story, and in Burroughs case, it seems to have taken more than a little fiction to do so. ( )

(Reprinted from the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com]. I am the original author of this essay, as well as the owner of CCLaP; it is not being reprinted here illegally.)

I've mentioned here regularly the entire idea of there being an "underground-arts canon;" that is, that just like the academic community, what we call the modern cutting-edge arts has now been around long enough (arguably since the early 1900s) that we can now say, "If you want to consider yourself well-versed on the subject, you need to make sure to read this person and this person and this person." This is a hugely important subject among intellectuals, after all, because that's what intellectualism is mostly based on in the first place; of that entire group of deep thinkers coming together and collectively deciding what is most important to their group, of what most directly and profoundly helps any intelligent person understand what that group is all about. And thus in the last year and a half have I been desperately trying to fill in the holes of such a canon in my own life; for those who don't know, see, I spent the 15 years before opening CCLaP not as an academe but as an actual working artist, so mostly spent those years actually photographing and writing instead of reading and studying. It's important that I fill in these intellectual gaps now, precisely because I am trying to be a full-time arts critic these days, because it matters with artistic criticism just how much you know about the subject; and thus it is that I'm constantly having to admit these days to a woeful lack of exposure to this artist or that, as I finally make my way through the first of their projects and talk about them here at the site.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, brings us to gay Generation X memoirist Augusten Burroughs; because Burroughs is precisely one of these shining lights of the so-called "contemporary canon," according to his fans, one of those "must-read" authors you absolutely need to be familiar with, in order to understand the contemporary underground arts in any kind of sophisticated way whatsoever. His work has previously always simply eluded my attention, for whatever reason; before last week, not only had I never read any of his books, I hadn't even seen the slick high-budget 2006 Hollywood adaptation that was made of his first bestseller, the horrifically comedic / comedically horrific coming-of-age tale Running with Scissors, much less the four other freaking personal memoirs written since or the absurdist novel written before. And whether you like him or hate him, the simple fact is that my non-knowledge of his work is a weakness for me as a critic and book reviewer; there are simply so many people familiar with his books by now, so many references made in other literary reviews to his manuscripts, that any decent reporter of the underground needs to make sure they're familiar with him, for no other reason than so they're on the same page as other lovers of the underground.

And it's all this, of course, that made it even such a bigger shock than normal when I actually sat down and read two of Burroughs' memoirs, his oldest (the aforementioned Scissors from 2002) and newest (A Wolf at the Table, from 2008), and realized the following: "Oh my God, Augusten Burroughs' memoirs f-cking suck." How can this be?, any intelligent person will ask at that moment -- how can it be that these books have had so much praise heaped on them over the years, when they turn out to be such weak excuses for compelling literature? Has there been...what, a massive hypnotic spell placed over all the people who gush and gush about the stirring prose and fascinating storylines found within? Has the collective lack of education and anti-intellectual stirrings of Neocon America over the last thirty years finally hit its tipping point, with the American populace simply no longer able to distinguish good books from bad ones? Is that what happened? Or is it that Burroughs got in during the last gasp of an artistic movement that we now consider trite and passe, exactly the "Generation X" house-of-cards I mentioned earlier, and thus suffers the dated wrath of a veteran like Douglas Coupland but at a fraction of the time?

Because let's make no mistake -- when the snotty pop-culture historians of the future think back to these days, and specifically the whole New Age middle-class suburban Oprah Hillary "It Takes A Village" politically-correct pink-ribbon crowd, they will think of Augusten Burroughs. Because that's basically what both of these books are, through and through, from the first page to ostensibly the last; they are whiny, victim-oriented, badly-written, semi-made-up so-called "true stories" about just how bad poor little Augusten has had it his whole whimsically funny life, of how every terrible thing that's ever happened to him is everyone else's fault but his own, and how by the way all those bad things just happened to be poetically poignant and contained the exact kind of dialogue that makes middle-aged suburban Oprah-worshipping pink-ribbon-wearing New Age soccer moms swoon. Nice coincidence, that!

And in fact, that brings up one of the first and ultimately biggest problems I encountered with Burroughs' work, when I tried to make my way through it for the first time last week; that it simply comes off as untrue, as made-up, not exactly a lie under the legal definition of the term, but definitely "cutsied up" so bad that it might as well be a fictional story. Because, see, for those who don't know, both of the books under review today supposedly cover Burroughs' early childhood among dysfunctional hippies in the "let it all hang out" 1970s, a series of vignettes that he actually writes from the mindset and viewpoint of that particular age; so in other words, if he's recalling an event from when he was five years old, he actually writes it as a five-year-old would supposedly see it. And in that manner, Burroughs essentially gets to have his cake and eat it too; he gets to say outrageously offensive things about all the real people around him at that time in his life, absurdly unprovable things that rely as much on magical realism as...you know, realism, while still having the convenient James-Frey Oprahesque New-Age excuse of, "I'm a writer, and I'm paid to write about how something felt. And this is how these events felt to me. And it doesn't matter if what I say is exactly true or not, not from a factual standpoint, because they are factual accounts of how I felt at that moment, or perhaps how I felt thirty years later when looking back on it through the filter of a mainstream publishing contract and looming deadline."

I think it's very telling, for example, that his own parents freaking sued him for defamation when Scissors came out*, but that this hasn't stopped any of these publishing companies from continuing to put out, put out, put out yet another semi-crap childhood memoir and yet another semi-crap childhood memoir by him. Because simply, we live in an age where a huge majority of the American public can no longer distinguish fact from fiction -- an age where over 50 percent of all Americans believe that The DaVinci Code is a true story, an age where over 50 percent of all Americans believe that The Secret is a true story. And that's because our country's educational system has been steadily crumbling since the end of World War Two, since the moment the US first started embracing the military-industrial complex, and first started diverting more and more of our national budget away from everything else and towards the military. No one gets a decent education in the United States anymore, critics claim, not unless they seek one out as an adult as the theory goes; and therefore most Americans are no longer even educated enough to understand the difference between true and made-up, the difference between science and "Intelligent Design" (i.e. "Creationism" with a new name), the difference between "memoir" and "sh-t I pulled out of my ass that sounds all tragic and crap, and that no one can exactly either prove or disprove."

And that's why earlier, I said that I was only guessing at what was the "ostensible" endings of these books; because to admit the absolute truth, I only made it about halfway through Running With Scissors before finally giving up, and couldn't even get thirty pages into A Wolf at the Table without doing the same. And seriously, Mr. Burroughs, if you just happen to ever come across this review -- I understand that writers with unique voices are easy to parody, precisely because they have unique voices, but do you really have to make it so damn tempting as well?

"Me. Pre-natal. What are these fleshy jail-cell walls that hold me in so tightly? Probably the result of my mother, of course, the cocktail-swilling fool. I wish to yell at her, wish to express my disgust at her smothering yet cold presence. But then I realize -- Oh yes, that's right, I'm a fetus. I'm not yet capable of advanced thought or human speech. So why is it that I'm already so eerily attracted to the Six Million Dollar Man?"

UGH. It's writers like Augusten Burroughs that makes me want to turn my entire back on Generation X in general, despite me actually being a member of Generation X; it's books like these that makes me understand why kids currently in their twenties hate me and my friends so much, of why they feel the desire to angrily vomit whenever the subjects of tattoos or Pearl Jam are brought up. I have a feeling that history will look on Burroughs a little more kindly, as simply a result of what our entire times encouraged; as someone, though, who's kind of had his fill for now of that moment of history, may I please be the first one to stand up in public and urge you to skip over the ouevre of Augusten Burroughs. Ten years from now, he will be retro and cute, the sign of a time that has now passed; but right now, he's mostly maddening and infuriating, the exact poster boy for why you should no longer trust anyone over the age of forty. It was a surprise, a real surprise, to learn about this otherwise highly respected author; a reminder that nothing is ever as it first seems when it comes to the underground arts, which of course is why at the cusp of forty myself I still find it so important to listen to the underground arts, to listen to what all those angry drunken twenty-year-olds have to say. I'm sure that Burroughs will eventually be seen as important; I'm just not sure at this point whether he should be considered relevant, especially at this particular moment in artistic history. Proper caution is advised with all of his books.

Out of 10: 1.9

*And for the sake of legality, let me inform you that the family defamation suit mentioned earlier was settled privately out of court earlier this year; an undisclosed amount of money was exchanged between child and parents as a result, and Burroughs agreed to call the manuscript in the future simply a "book" instead of a "memoir." ( )

I really, really hated this book. Richly pointless. ( )

I really, really hated this book. Richly pointless. ( )

I really, really hated this book. Richly pointless. ( )

Oh my gosh! I kept reading just to see what was going to happen next but.....this story was creepy. ( )

Completely discusting after page 140 or so. Could not stand to read it any further. ( )

W-o-w. I must say, I am ashamed of myself for letting this one slide down TBR Mountain for so long. I'm not sure quite how to review it, except to say that this is one of those books, those turbulent memoirs, that has to be read to be believed. If you can believe it in its entirety at all, that is.

Augusten Burroughs was a strange child. He liked shiny things, making his hair lie flat, and generally being fabulous. His mother was a poet dangling over the precipice of insanity, and his father turned to alcohol to cope. Out of his life fell his father, and into his life wandered Dr Finch, his mother's psychiatrist, in more than a little need of therapy himself. While his mum hails Dr Finch as her saviour and his dubious methods as genius, Augusten is drawn slowly away from her into the madness of the Finch household. Hope worships her father and believes that her cat is talking to her in dreams. Agnes eats dog biscuits and has to put up with her husband's patients taking over her house. Neil, a patient of Dr Finch's, wastes no time in setting up a bizarre gay relationship with 13-year-old Augusten. A lady with OCD lives in a room upstairs and never comes out. And Natalie, cynical and driven to madness by her family, becomes his new best friend.

This world - and the book itself - is by turns repulsive and attractive, brilliant and insane, hopeful and hopeless, hilarious and deadly sober. It is incredible, it is bizarre, and the memorable childhood translates into a memorable autobiography. I liked it so much that I just ordered the movie version (starring Annette Bening and Brian Cox) and I'll be looking for 'Dry' - the follow up and by all accounts just as good - very soon! ( )

A combination of Glass Castle and A Child Called It. Rather unbelievable in many places like A Million Little Pieces but overall a good read. ( )

Wow. If you've ever thought you had it rough, this book will make you rethink your definition of rough. ( )

In the grand tradition of memoirs about dysfunctional childhoods comes Augusten Burrough's Running With Scissors. I heard a lot of hype about this one, and looked forward to reading it. However, I was shocked at how disjointed and poorly written it was. The chronology is vague and characters are introduced late in the game and then inexplicably never mentioned again. After a hundred pages in, we learn Augusten has a brother. According to a Vanity Fair article, the brother witnessed many of events in the memoir, but he is only mentioned once or twice in passing after his late introduction in the memoir. The prose is entirely story-driven, with no remarkable style to call the author's own, except a turn of phrase here and there.

Fans of the dysfunctional family memoir, however, will get their fill on Augusten's memories of the past. Born to a distant father and a mother who was more interested in fulfilling her dreams of being the next Anne Sexton than being a mom, the family gives the unorthodox methods of Dr. Finch a try in order to solve their problems. It's a decision that forever affects their lives: Augusten's parents divorce, and he is handed over to be raised by the Finch family, who live in ambivalent squalor, eating dog food and plucking candy canes from the dried-out Christmas tree in May, among many other oddities. Since the Finches believe that 13 is the age of adulthood, the kids were allowed to do as they please, with whomever they please. Augusten falls into a predatory relationship with one of the doctor's other adopted patients, despite there being nearly a thirty-year age difference between them. Augusten is often conflicting about how his behavior was recieved by the Finches. He notes their lax attitudes towards discipline, but notes that he was more open to hang with his older boyfriend and smoke around his mother.

While the Finches are oftentimes dirty and eccentric, Augusten misses many chances to humanize them. Hope comes close with her empathy, but even the Finch he was closest to, Natalie, gets treated like a filthy, foul-mouthed hobo. Augusten's purpose in telling this story seems to be to say, "Look at these people! Weren't they weird?" Well, yeah, they were, but this style lacks any empathy or warmth. It's a coming-of-age novel without any lessons learned, just a shell-shocked "Oh, these people were awful! Let me tell you about them." ( )

There's much controversy about whether this book is really a memoir, how much is true, how much is exaggerated. We can save all that talk for another day. However, as I read this book about a young man left to live with his mother's eccentric psychologist while she's off being crazy somewhere, I kept hoping that none of it was true. The one thing I said over and over to myself while reading this is "this family is f-ed up!" Here's just a bit about the Finch family: one of the sisters is big into "Bible dipping" (I think that's what they called it), in which a question is asked and you open the Bible, put your finger down anywhere on the page, and you get your answer; the father, Dr. Finch, reads his poop like some people read tea leaves; another sister was legally adopted by her much older lover; and Mrs. Finch sits on the couch eating dry dog food out of the bag like you or I would eat cereal. Augusten and Natalie decide they want a skylight, so they start tearing apart the ceiling and Dr. and Mrs. Finch don't say a word. This book gives a new definition to crazy and messed up, but it certainly made me feel better about my little dysfunctional family, that's for sure. If you're not offended by a young boy running around naked and pooping on the living room floor, or Augusten's sexual relationship with one of Dr. Finch's pedophile patients, or Dr. Finch and Augusten's mother allowing him to attempt suicide to get out of having to go to school, then go ahead, attempt this book. I will say that the book was a bazillion times better than the movie. If I'd seen the movie without reading the book, I'd still be sitting there scratching my head wondering what it was all about. ( )

- If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere -

Sapevo con assoluta certezza che da grande volevo diventare o un medico o una celebrità. L'ideale sarebbe stato fare la parte di un medico in una serie tv.
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Ma lei lo amava davvero. Io ci credo. So esattamente cosa significa. Amare qualcuno che non lo merita, perchè è tutto ciò che hai. Perchè un'attenzione qualsiasi è meglio di nessuna attenzione.
-----
Avevo gli stessi occhi di mia madre. Me lo dicevano tutti. Avere i suoi occhi mi spaventava, perchè temevo di avere tutto quello che nascondevano, qualunque cosa fosse. ( )

I gotta say - I didn't get it. All the high praise about uproarious laugh-out-loud moments - it just never happened. There were definitely some amusing turns of a phrase and humorous bits of sarcasm or ironic pondering. But overall, it was dark and sad - and far more gross than was really necessary (and they supposedly edited "worse" things out! Yuck!). If weird is your thing, you'll probably love it. Me, not so much. ( )

This book might appeal to voyeurs, or kind souls who don't mind donating the price of a book to someone who "writes it all down" as part of their therapy - and then cashes in on the outcome. It's hard to understand what makes people interested in the dysfunctional lives of others who have done nothing out of the ordinary, except to surive their dysfunctional past. Millions of people are survivors, but fortunately for the reading public, only the most ego driven find a need to make a book out of it. In this case, the book would have been better (but just a little better) if it had been promoted as fictional black humour. As a "memoir" it is neither interesting (past the initial shock/horror/how could this happen reaction) nor believable. Possibly there were some incidents that formed the basis of the events it portrays, but one suspects they have been embellished by a hefty dose of "literary" ?? licence. If you find the thought of a detailed analysis of the meaning to be interpreted from faeces in a toilet bowl a bit off putting, don't read it. ( )

An absolute train wreck, so much so, you can't not finish it. If you're into dysfunctional family reading -- this is the book for you! ( )

Lively, contemporary, and kind of quirky. I liked it! ( )

Running with Scissors was weird. don't attempt this book if you are easily upset. it's just impossible to read about this guys childhood and not cringe. ( )

This book is a very strange book. Giving different stories and experiences that most people would not think to mention, I would suggest that this be for a more mature audience. The story is a memoir about a young boy, Augusten, who is abandoned by his dysfunctional mother Deirdre, and his alcoholic father whom he is neglected by, and lives his life under the roof of his mother's psychiatrist, Dr. Finch. His mother is undergoing psychiatric treatment with Dr. Finch, due to her mental instabilities that she has acquired during her abusive relationship with Augusten's father. She visits Dr.Finch many times and her sessions with him seem strangely long. After the divorce of Augustens parent's, his mother abandons and leaves him to live with Dr.Finch who soon becomes his legal guardian, while she moves to Amherst. Dr.Finch has numerous other children and his house is dirty and unappetizing. Many people live in the house and the only room clean is of the OCD woman who keeps her room and bathroom clean. Augusten stays with his mother occasionally, but his main residence is Dr.Finch's house. Augusten soon learns that Dr.Finch has bad notions to him, and is not as much of a saint as perceived. Dr.Finch believes in sexual relationships between children and adults, prescribing unnecessary medicine, abusing his doctoral privileges, and adultery. In the third chapter, Dr.Finch shows Augusten a small room in his office in which he calls his, "Masturbatorium", which he uses to relieve himself after or sometimes during his patient sessions. Augusten is disgusted by this. Dr.Finch has also brainwashed his children, his daughter Hope says that his Masturbatorium is normal and that she wants to marry someone such like her father. Dr.Finch has many children and adopted patients which he refers to as his children. Augusten becomes good friends with Dr.Finch's daughter Natalie, and eventually moves out with her at the end of the story. But anyways, Augusten changes his ways while living with the Finch's, he turns gay and begins smoking, Hope, one of Dr.Finch's daughters, introduces him to one of Dr.Finch's adopted patients, whose name is Neil. Augusten and Neil go on a walk and bgin talking, but soon, Neil takes advantage of Augusten and pursues him sexually. Augusten's first sexual encounter occurs when he is forced into giving oral sex to Neil, with Neil explaining that he has to learn what to expect as a gay man. But soon after, the two become lovers. With Neil being 33 and Augusten only 13, it is not a big deal in the Finch family that they are sexually involved. Towards the end of the story, Neil leaves to New York unexpectedly and Augusten does not hear from him again. Augusten and his mother have a relationship still, yet he does not see her much, when learning that he can get away with skipping school, he walks in on his mother and another woman having sex. He then realizes his mother's lifestyle, yet tells her he is understanding. Soon, Augusten drops out of school after Dr. Finch sets up a fake suicide attempt for Augusten. Augusten has an older brother, Troy, the most normal in the family, yet very distant. Once, he invites Augusten to New York to see KISS, the band that Troy works for. Augusten's mother leaves Fern, for a new woman, Dorothy, one of Dr.Finch's patients, after being with dorotthy for a while, she meets a man named Cesar, of whom she takes to Dorothy and he begins to have sex with both Dorothy and Deirdre. After, Cesar moves to Dr.Finch's house and for forty dollars Natalie has sex with him, and then he leaves the house. Augusten and his mother become closer, but she her mental instability has not improved, and she tries to attack Augusten. He, hiis mother, Dr.Finch, and Hope and Natalie all move into a motel living there for a while. Natalie gets a low-paying job at McDonalds, and she and Augusten move out. She pursues school while Augusten drops out, again. His mother lets him know that Dr.Finch has raped her and gives her unnecessary medication, and wants to leave, Natalie says that her father said that Deirdre has lost it and needs to go to the hospital. Augusten doesn't want to take sides and instead leaves and wants to start a new life. He gets a job and his own apartment, and begins a new life on his own. ( )

This memoir is just a little too dysfunctionally cute - its like the author wrote it with a checklist of dark quirk in hand. Although a number of genuinely disturbing things actually happen in the book, they are all presented in a light, breezy style that I found rather disturbing. Nothing, no matter how bizarre or wrong, ever seems to faze young Augusten. Everything is fodder in his quest for fame. Nearly everyone in this book is completely idiotic and reprehensible, but not in an interesting way. Augusten and his mother are weak narcissists who prey on mentally disturbed individuals for their own gratification - both emotional and sexual. The book displays an almost infantile delight in bodily fluids, excrement, and sex-related noises; I'm not a prude, but I was grossed out. The book itself just seems so cheekily self-aware; at some point one of the author's adopted siblings tells him he really HAS to become a writer and should write a book about their crazy family. I was really disappointed in this book, which I at least expected to be funny. I will not be reading any more of this author's attempts to mine his personal tragedies for fame.... ( )

A very good read! Couldnt seem to put the book down, Auguesten Burroughs is a fantastic author and can bring humour in a very dark situation ( )

Entertaining autobiography of Augusten Burroughs teenage years. His alcoholic father and manic depressive mother don't get on and eventually divorce leaving him to cope with his mother alone. His mother's psychiatrist gets him out of school and makes Augusten part of the psychiatrists chaotic and entertaining family. Augusten has a relationship with one of the psychiatrist's adopted son's who is much older. ( )

This was one of the most interesting autobiographies I have ever read. Burrough's adolecent and childhood life are portrayed in a comical way that keeps you reading. Even though I couldn't identify with much of this story, I still enjoyed reading it. You should definately read this book. ( )

Hilarious story! I laughed so much when I read this book... ( )