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Red Dust Road by Jackie Kay
I'm doing a project this year, where I'm trying to read all the unread non-fiction that I have lurking about on my shelves and in boxes at my parents. I thought I might be more likely to complete it if I shared my reports somewhere. In the meantime, I've got a wee backlog of reviews of non-fiction books I read last year too, so I'll share them in between.
Red Dust Road by Jackie Kay, is her memoir about being adopted. It's a warm and funny book, tender and bittersweet, full of the complexities of love and identity. It's written thematically rather than chronologically, which I think nicely corresponds with the complex and piecemeal process of uncovering and exploring the past. The prose is as gorgeous and evocative as her writing always is, and there's a certain thrill as other familiar (Scottish and otherwise) literary figures crop up as characters in the book. (Carol Ann Duffy, Liz Lochead, Ali Smith and Louise Welsh I expected, Chimamanda Adichie was a pleasant surprise.) It was the last book that I read last year, and was a good book to end the year on.
Red Dust Road by Jackie Kay, is her memoir about being adopted. It's a warm and funny book, tender and bittersweet, full of the complexities of love and identity. It's written thematically rather than chronologically, which I think nicely corresponds with the complex and piecemeal process of uncovering and exploring the past. The prose is as gorgeous and evocative as her writing always is, and there's a certain thrill as other familiar (Scottish and otherwise) literary figures crop up as characters in the book. (Carol Ann Duffy, Liz Lochead, Ali Smith and Louise Welsh I expected, Chimamanda Adichie was a pleasant surprise.) It was the last book that I read last year, and was a good book to end the year on.
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