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| A Wolf at the Table: A Memoir of My Father | 
 enlarge | Author: Augusten Burroughs
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Category: Book
List Price: $24.95
Buy Used: $10.98
You Save: $13.97 (56%)
New (54) Used (42) Collectible (12) from $10.98
Avg. Customer Rating:  129 reviews
Media: Hardcover
Number Of Items: 1
Pages: 256
Shipping Weight (lbs): 0.8
Dimensions (in): 8.2 x 5.6 x 1.1
ISBN: 0312342020
Dewey Decimal Number: 813.6
EAN: 9780312342029
Publication Date: April 29, 2008
Availability: Usually ships in 1-2 business days
Condition: May have small mark or shelf wear / Legendary independent bookstore online since 1994. Reliable customer service and no-hassle return policy.
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| Customer Reviews:
 A Joker at the Word Processor September 11, 2008
6 out of 6 found this review helpful
This "book" was laughable. If it hadn't already been proven in court that Burroughs fabricated portions of his previous memoirs, then this piece of tripe would have done it. Besides the obviously ludicrous "memories" such as recalling the day he took his first steps, how does the author expect that we will believe these stories of his supposedly wretched home life when it can't possibly have happened as he states? Throughout the story he claims to hear his parents calling him by his name, Augusten. He details the way they articulate it, "August-EN" and claims to feel horrid emotions at the way they say his name. Yet his name was Christopher then, since Augusten Burroughs was the name he invented for himself later in life. A false memory.
The author also takes the normal slings and arrows of childhood and exaggerates them to a confounding degree. So his father didn't let him put the snacks he wanted into the grocery cart? Every parent knows that you have to limit what a kid wants to buy at the supermarket or the child will throw every kind of sugary snack in there. This incident is just one of many in which Burroughs takes the most ordinary and trivial of childhood incidents and tries to make them into something sinister.
The whole book was awful and, despite my usual rule to finish a book I have started, about 2/3rds through I just had to end the misery. At least I only took it out from the library and didn't spend my money on this lousy garbage.
 Heartbreaking, Gut-Wrenching September 6, 2008
0 out of 2 found this review helpful
Those looking for a Dave Pelzer-worthy nightmare of parental abuse can look elsewhere. Instead, what is most horrifying about Augusten Burroughs' father is what he DIDN'T do. By virtually withholding all love and affection from his younger son, he created a hole that Burroughs in turn tried to fill with improper relationships, alcohol, and drugs.
Burroughs conveys the horror of his childhood with stark vividness, successfully portraying the emotions and desires of the child he was. A pet dog forced to live outside and refused medical care, a guinea pig left without food and water, a son denied even the barest scraps of love, until he is forced to snuggle with a "father" he has created from old clothes sprayed with aftershave.
This is truly a heartbreaking work of staggering genius, gut-wrenching in its honesty.
Is this book an example of "Creative Nonfiction?" September 3, 2008
4 out of 4 found this review helpful
I disliked this book so much that I didn't even finish it. Mr. Burroughs has clearly run out of material from his own life and seems unable or unwilling to try fiction again. The thing I find most disturbing about this 'memoir' is that I saw Mr. Burroughs at a book reading when Magical Thinking was released and he spoke about his father and how they had reconciled. He also mentioned that he was working on this book at the time and that it had already been optioned to be filmed by a major studio, which was pretty impressive considering the book hadn't even been completed. I wonder how much of his recollection was influenced by the notion that A Wolf at the Table was going to be a movie (although that seems unlikely now, given the critical drubbing the book has received and the poor box office performance of "Running With Scissors.") In fact, during the Q&A, an audience member asked what he thought of "creative nonfiction" writers like David Sadaris (a writer who admits to changing his stories based on audience reactions at readings) and Mr. Burroughs said he had no problem with either the term or concept as long as the book is entertaining. Unfortunately, this book is not.
 Why............... September 1, 2008
0 out of 3 found this review helpful
are people like Burroughs' father allowed to procreate? This story was so sad, but there were amusing moments. I am amazed that one can come through a childhood like his and still feel such obvious love for his parents (I blame his mother too). It's a tribute to his character that he was able to survive and be successful in his life after the madness he was exposed to. Disturbing as this book was, I have always loved his writing and look forward to his next book.
 Fact or Dramatic Fiction? September 1, 2008
1 out of 1 found this review helpful
First,I should disclose that I am a fan of Augusten Burroughs. I even have a desire to meet him someday, perhaps in Northampton,MA, near where I live. I envision lively discussions and comical observations being shared-but I digress....
Having read all of Mr. Burroughs books except for Sellivision, I was eagerly looking forward to this admitted 'change' in tone. I was looking forward to reading a straightforward yet harrowing tale about a difficult father. The cover of the book is menacing enough what with animated, red fork spikes reaching towards some imaginary prey (Augusten?).
I wasn't looking for a laugh, so I'm not disappointed that I didn't laugh out loud every few paragraphs as I did while reading his other books. I am disappointed though. More to the point, I feel deceived. While I'm sure each of the stories presented here started as an authentic memory, the embellishments are just too impossible to swallow.
For one, these memories are supposedly told from the perspective of a child (as young as 1 and 1/2!) but are so impossibly detailed that truth gets jettisoned for the sake of drama: "Sitting in my high chair, I held a saltine cracker up to my eye and peered through the tiny holes, astonished that I could see so much through such small opening...." Really? (And that's just one example).
Here's what happened to me while reading this book: I felt so much here was fabricated for dramatic effect that I went online and googled information about Augusten's father and mother. John Robison (Augusten's father) was an adored professor in the philosophy department at UMASS, Amherst where I have done doctoral work. Margaret Robison, his mom, is still alive and lives in Shelburne Falls,MA where she writes poetry and is working on a memoir herself.
Here's what I also learned: Mr. Burroughs actual name is Chris Robison, even though there are (supposedly) direct quotes in this book where people refer to Chris as Augusten (he didn't change his name until well after the events of this book). This is problematic enough but the fact that 'Augusten' hasn't seen his (sick, stroke-ridden) mother in 8 years so decisively shifts my sympathies to her-and even to his father. There are "memories" here so specific that he would have HAD to have consulted his mom to verify if he had the story straight. But...
It seems, unfortunately, that sobriety (and stability) have left this pseudonymous writer with little material with which to work with except questionable 'memories' of his childhood. Recently, he's resorted to viral marketing via the use of You Tube and a blog and has even promoted his brother's book (about Asperger's Syndrome) in this manner. At some point, the author-as-victim theme grows tired-especially in this case, where most of the memories here are 30+ years old.
Still, I don't begrudge his success and comfortable new life- he is bold to have shared so many potentially embarrassing details of his life.
Whatever his true name, he has certainly paid his dues but the "wolf" at the table was more likely a stressed-out professor dealing with alcoholism, a difficult marriage and poor health. That the wolf didn't pay enough attention to his young son is tragic but I am doubtful, given Burroughs's creative mind, that the neglect morphed into life-threatening scenarios time and again.
In the end you will empathize with him because a hole will always remain in his life where a father's love should reside. This is what's real about this book and Burroughs's life, and always will be (a fact that he has tattooed on his arms lately, to wit: "the scar remains").
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