EDUCATED by Tara Westover

Finished Fr 2/21/2020, the February, 2020 selection for the Contemporary Book Club. This was a new book and expensive. I bought this on a site and I thought that I was getting either a trade, paperback, or hardback, but it was an Ebook.

 11,000 Customer Reviews and 14,000 Customer Ratings on Amazon .

This is a non-fiction memoir of a woman who was raised and homeschooled by a family of survivalists in very rural Idaho.
Her mother's teaching was laughable, yet Tara went on to study at Cambridge and Harvard.
Mother was a midwife and this was to be Tara's career.
Father ran a junkyard and made barns and hay sheds.
Abused by her brothers
Buck's Peak Idaho; 123 miles north of Salt Lake City, Utah.
Shawn- brother forklift accident/ motorcycle
Tyler- first brother to college, Tara's close sibling
Charles- boyfriend
Gene- father; Horribly burned while trying to remove a gas tank without draining the tank.
Faye- mother: Permanently damaged in a car accident- head trauma.
Audrey- sister and forever loyal to the family


I liked the book, but not very memorable. Not bad, Not great.

Reminded me of 'HILLBILLY ELEGY'
Link to wikipedia:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hillbilly_Elegy

HILLBILLY ELEGY at amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/Hillbilly-Elegy-Memoir-Family-Culture/dp/0062300547

Review in The New York Times:

"Now in her early 30s, she was the youngest of seven in a survivalist family in the shadow of a mountain in a Mormon pocket of southeastern Idaho. Her father, Gene (a pseudonym), grew up on a farm at the base of the mountain, the son of a hot-tempered father, and moved up the slope with his wife, the product of a more genteel upbringing in the nearby small town. Gene sustained his growing family by building barns and hay sheds and by scrapping metal in his junkyard; his wife, Faye (also a pseudonym), chipped in with her income from mixing up herbal remedies and from her reluctant work as an unlicensed midwife’s assistant and then midwife.

During his 20s, Gene’s edgy and not uncharismatic intensity morphed into politically charged paranoia, fueled by what the reader is led to presume is a severe case of bipolar disorder. Around the age of 30, he pulled his eldest children from school to protect them from the Illuminati, though they, at least, had the benefit of a birth certificate, an indulgence the youngest four would be denied. In theory, the children were being home-schooled; in reality, there was virtually no academic instruction to speak of. They learned to read from the Bible, the Book of Mormon and the speeches of Joseph Smith and Brigham Young. The only science book in the house was for young children, full of glossy illustrations. The bulk of their time was spent helping their parents at work. Barely into her teens, Westover graduated from helping her mom mix remedies and birth babies to sorting scrap with her dad, who had the unnerving habit of inadvertently hitting her with pieces he’d tossed.

Getting hit with a steel cylinder square in the gut was the least of the risks in the Westover household. The book is, among other things, a catalog of job-site horrors: fingers lost, legs gashed, bodies horribly burned. No pointy-headed bureaucrat could make a stronger case for the Occupational Safety and Health Administration than do the unregulated Westovers with their many calamities. Making matters worse is Gene’s refusal to allow any of the injured and wounded (himself included) to seek medical attention beyond his wife’s tinctures — “God’s pharmacy” — a refusal that also greatly exacerbates the effects of two terrible car accidents. “God and his angels are here, working right alongside us,” he tells Westover. “They won’t let you get hurt.” When she gets tonsillitis, he tells her to stand outside with her mouth open so that the sun can work its magic. She does, for a month.

As time goes on, the conflict between father and daughter gathers as inevitably as the lengthening fall shadows from Buck’s Peak above. Gene’s fervor and paranoia are undiminished by the failure of the world to end at Y2K, despite his ample preparations. (Westover offers the pathos-filled image of her father sitting expressionless in front of “The Honeymooners” as the world ticks quietly onward.) Meanwhile, she is starting to test the boundaries of an upbringing more tightly constricted than she can even begin to imagine. Her venture into a local dance class ends with her father condemning the group’s painfully modest performance outfits as whorish. Encouraged by an older brother who started studying covertly and eventually left for college, Westover attempts to do likewise, reading deep into her father’s books on the 19th-century Mormon prophets. “The skill I was learning was a crucial one, the patience to read things I could not yet understand,” she writes with characteristic understatement. (Only very occasionally is Westover’s assured prose marred by unnecessary curlicues.) As if her father’s tyranny is not enough, she must contend also with sadistic physical attacks from a different brother, whose instability was worsened by a 12-foot headfirst plunge onto rebar in yet another Westover workplace accident.

Tara makes her first big step toward liberation by, remarkably, doing well enough on the ACT to gain admission to Brigham Young University. (“It proves one thing at least,” her father says grudgingly. “Our home school is as good as any public education.”) There, she is shocked by the profane habits of her classmates, like the roommate who wears pink plush pajamas with “Juicy” emblazoned on the rear, and in turn shocks her classmates with her ignorance, never more so than when she asks blithely in art history class what the Holocaust was. (Other new discoveries for her: Napoleon, Martin Luther King Jr., the fact that Europe is not a country.) Such excruciating moments do not keep professors from recognizing her talent and voracious hunger to learn; soon enough, she’s off to a fellowship at Cambridge University, where a renowned professor — a Holocaust expert, no less — can’t help exclaiming when he meets her: “How marvelous. It’s as if I’ve stepped into Shaw’s ‘Pygmalion.’”

Westover eventually makes it to Harvard for another fellowship and then back to Cambridge to pursue her Ph.D. in history. Even then, she’s not yet fully sprung, so deeply rooted are the tangled familial claims of loyalty, guilt, shame and, yes, love. It is only when the final, wrenching break from most of her family arrives that one realizes just how courageous this testimonial really is. These disclosures will take a toll. But one is also left convinced that the costs are worth it. By the end, Westover has somehow managed not only to capture her unsurpassably exceptional upbringing, but to make her current situation seem not so exceptional at all, and resonant for many others. She is but yet another young person who left home for an education, now views the family she left across an uncomprehending ideological canyon, and isn’t going back."

From a customer review at Amazon:

"In the interest of full disclosure, I'm the Drew from this book, and although Tara and I are no longer together I’ve met all of the key figures in this book on many occasions. Although I don’t have as intimate a knowledge of growing up in the Westover family as a sibling would, I observed first hand everything Tara describes in the third part of the book and heard many stories about earlier events, not just from Tara, but from siblings, cousins, and her parents themselves. I find the claims of factual inaccuracy that have come up among these reviews to be strange for two reasons. First, in a post-James Frey (“A Million Little Pieces”) world, publishers are incredibly careful with memoirs and “Educated” was extensively fact checked before publication. Second, no one claiming factual inaccuracy can do so with any precision. While every Westover sibling, as well as their neighbors and friends, will have different perspectives and different memories, it is very difficult to dispute the core facts of this book. “Educated” is about abuse, and the way in which both abusers and their enablers distort reality for the victims. It’s about the importance of gaining your own understanding of the world so you’re not dependent on the narratives imposed on you by others. I’ve heard Tara’s parents attack schools and universities, doctors and modern medicine, but more importantly, I’ve seen her parents work tirelessly to create a world where Shawn’s abuse was minimized or denied outright. I’ve seen them try to create a world where Tara was insane or possessed in order to protect a violent and unstable brother. I was with her in Cambridge when Shawn was calling with death threats, then saw her mother completely trivialize the experience. For Tara’s parents, allegiance to the family is paramount, and allegiance to the family requires you to accept her father’s view of the world, where violence is acceptable and asking for change is a crime."

James Frey- A MILLION LITTLE PIECES - A memoir that was savaged because it wasn't 100% accurate. EDUCATED is supposed to be the truth.

Some readers could not believe Tara's isolation. It was the 1990's and she was taking dance and acting lessons- starring in ANNIE. So she had to have contact with other people who were aware of computers, contemporary music, television and movies.

Westover ignores the helping hands of people in her community and at her schools, and she acts as if she did it all herself. I don't agree with this viewpoint, but apparently many readers felt this way.