👶👶👶👶 Wild Game: My Mother, Her Lover, and Me, by Adrienne Brodeur

Although I am generally not a huge fan of memoirs and often struggle with reviewing them, I was interested to delve into this particular autobiography. From the beginning, Adrienne Brodeur lures the reader into this wild, but wicked game. She is an eloquent writer, and a convincing victim in this tangled web. Prior to reading this story, I had never heard of the writer, nor her parents, and purposely did not do any research beforehand so as to not go into the story with presuppositions. The story is one of lies and deceit precipitated by a mother with no moral compass. It was the stuff of soap operas, and it fascinated me that this much dysfunction actually exists in educated families. How a mother could ever be so incredibly immature is unfathomable... however learning about the unimaginable loss in her own life, one can only imagine what such pain would do to a mother's psyche.

After I finished reading this memoir, I did a bit of research, and learned that not everyone in this real-life melodrama agreed that Adrienne was solely a victim. Some felt as though she should have extricated herself from the situation long before she did; that her complicity continued too far into adulthood. Often in familial drama, the whys and hows are so much more complex than any one individual can shed light on. What I can say with certainty is that Ms. Brodeur is a fine author. I was fully engrossed in the story from the beginning. However, I was a bit confused as to why she chose to change names in this memoir, only to reveal their real names later in her acknowledgements.

Many thanks to NetGalley and Houghton Mifflin Harcourt for gifting me with this memoir in exchange for an honest review.

Read 6/20