I've been a fan of Julavits writing for years, and was especially intrigued by this memoir as I knew it covered years where she teaches at Columbia University while I was working there. With Columbia being in the news these past few months, much to my frustration, it still made me a bit nostalgic so I decided to finally pick this one up.

The book is mostly about raising a son to be progressive, feminist, and open-minded in a world that does not want men to be that way. Sexual assault on Columbia's campus in the mid 2010s was a controversial and frustrating issue, and yet another way the administration poorly handled student protests and keeping students safe. Julavits uses this a little as a background to her teaching her son to be a good person, and I appreciated that.

However, the memoir gets to be a bit repetitive over time and I found myself skimming through the second half. As someone who is about to be a Mom for the first time, I appreciated the experimental, internal narrative about raising children the way you think they should be raised vs. how the world will mold them regardless. But the book lacked cohesion and a central theme for me to latch on to.

Much like Heidi Julavits's earlier and highly-acclaimed memoir "The Folded Clock," "DIrections to Myself" is a series of vignettes, this time themed around a mother's job of raising a son and preparing him to live as a decent man in a world that will bombard him with examples of toxic masculinity and casual misogyny--all while coming to terms with the grief of her inevitably diminishing influence over him. Following her son over the course of the four years between 6 and 10--what she calls "the end times of childhood"--Julavits uses the metaphor of nautical navigation to describe both the actual journeys she makes with her son around the sometimes treacherous waters of coastal Maine, where the family spends their summers and where Julavits grew up, and the equally dangerous social currents he will have to navigate on his journey to adulthood. Readers may not agree with every aspect of how Julavits steers the course--she herself admits to uncertainty and questions the methods of other parents (one of whom she calls the Conversational Antagonist in a particularly memorable scene)--but there is no denying Julavits's commitment to the job, or her love for her son. Having a 24-year-old son of my own, I inhaled this book and am definitely the target audience--reading it brought back some of my own melancholy about the ephemerality of childhood, what Julavits calls "homesickness for homesickness." I'm passing this one on to all my mom friends (although I'm not sure how a childless reader would react to it).

Thank you to NetGalley and to Hogarth Books for providing me with an ARC of this title in return for my honest review.

I don't know why, but I didn't want to write a review immediately after I finished reading this. Unlike the other book I read by Julavits, The Vanishers, this book seemed so deeply personal. And yes, I understand it was a memoir, but it was something more than this. I read a lot of memoirs. Unlike most I've read, there was no self-aware layer to this one. I mean, yes, she is aware she is sharing intimate details of her life with me, a stranger, but Julavits did not seem to be polishing them up, holding them out to me in the best light possible. In some cases, Julavits details the most banal events of her day, but there is a touch of grace to everything about it. I think, after reading the book, I wanted a period of time to try to figure out what unique quality made her writing so moving to me. Sure, there is precision in her details, obvious love for her family, and a kind of comfort in their everyday existence. But sadly, I have nothing more concrete than this, so you'll have to read it for yourselves.

An expansive memoir, one of particular interest to me as the mom of a boy who is just at the start of the 'letting go' age, as described by Julavits. This book bites off a big chunk of subject matter and it doesn't follow a clear path (maybe ironically, maybe on purpose given the navigational theme that also weaves through it). I thought it was lovely.

A memoir about being a mother to a son, between the ages of 7 and 11, years when it still feels like you can have an influence, before an easy connection is lost. I do love Julavits's writing. She is the perfect of example of 'show don't tell." She never says how do I make sure my son doesn't grow up to hate women? How do I protect my sensitive son against the harsh world? How do I make sure my son knows who I am outside of being a mom? But over and over again, those questions come up in the interactions she describes as she worries about her son entering gaming culture, as she recounts different relationships and friendship he has with other children, as she works to share her knowledge of boating and the sea with him. There is no clear timeline to this book. There is no clear storyline either. It is episodic and at times you feel lost, just as the writer does, and that felt honest for a book reflecting upon parenting.

𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝑺𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏. 𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒚, 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒊𝒕?
In my experience, time moves quickest while you are raising your children. One day you have a newborn baby in your arms, the next they’re graduating high school. My firstborn is a boy, he is twenty-seven now, but I remember similar concerns. Children will be shaped by their peers, and anyone with a daughter and son knows there are differences in how they are influenced in the world they move through. I have both a son and daughter, and the conversations were often wildly different. As a mother, it is a tightrope one walks in knowing how and when to approach your child and offer your guidance, always there must be solid support. Even more so when they are with their friends, you must allow for a natural independence to develop while also protecting them. In this memoir, Heidi’s son is five years old and transitioning out of childhood, into another stage of development, one she has gone through already with her daughter but raising a son isn’t the same. There is a masculine pushing away that comes with time, boys embarrassed by their mother’s love and often ‘performing mock disdain’ in front of their pals. There is an artform to a mother still making sure her boy is okay but not in such a way that it’s obvious that is what she is doing.

How does one raise a boy, in a world of disgusting sexual violence, particularly against women? How do you stay vigilant in a world that bombards your child with competing messages about sexuality? Too reactionary and your child won’t trust you, and yet too little and your child will be lost. The incident with the word slut is just one conversation starter when her son is still young, and there is such a long road ahead. Older boys will always influence younger boys, short of plugging your child’s ears and closing their eyes, the world will come in and leave their mark in one’s psyche. It happens to us all. Short of living isolated on an island, they do not reach adulthood without the world blowing them about too. “The older boys are full of ideas that my son is thrilled to adopt. Not all of these ideas are good ones. The same is true of my ideas.” We know what we want to teach, but it doesn’t always come out nor is it always absorbed as we hope. She is grieving his growing up, and closer to his friends. It’s a natural progression, but not easy on a mother. Children must, though, learn self-governance, we can’t always be present to be their moral compass. How do we give them the skills they need to make the right choices? Surely all those mothers of boys and men who have committed offenses against women tried to teach their son how to be a decent human being too? Where did it go wrong? How do you prevent it?

Julavits writes of her own childhood on the coast of Maine, motherhood, teaching, and her marriage. As her children grow, she is no longer their center, “my homecoming is no longer the cause of anyone’s elation.” There is grief in knowing this passage of time can never be returned to. It’s an interesting journey, I think it’s easy to get lost. Where do you make a stand, where do you back off, at times you have to approach heavy subjects gingerly, particularly considering your child’s age. You cannot talk over a child’s head (understanding) and yet cannot ignore important topics that sneak in, sometimes too soon. One fact is, you will make mistakes and each child, regardless of their sex, are going to be different in how you teach them. The memoir jumped around here and there, the nautical theme may not work for everyone, but I could relate to her dilemma at times. It’s a tough, confusing world, even for adults.

Published June 27, 2023

Random House

Hogarth

Thanks to Netgalley and Hogarth for the ebook. Over a period of four years the author sees her son slowly, and then swiftly, shed his adolescence. A professor whose college has recently been thrown into turmoil with rape allegations, the author wonders what she can do for her son before she releases him out to the world. She tries to be there for him, question him without always testing him and share the stories of her life that shaped her, including a childhood that was rich with life on the local seas.

I was intrigued by the cover, but I had a hard time getting through this one. As I read, I found myself returning to the book description to remind myself what the book is about. As much as I adore alternatives to the traditional western story arc, I needed more forward thrust to carry me through to the end. This one wasn't for me, but I appreciate the opportunity to read and wish the author the best of luck.

I enjoyed this book--and have read all of Julavitz work--for its focus on the daily and its rigorous honesty. Examining family bonds and motherhood are central here, and I appreciate that.

What I love about reading a memoir by Heidi Julavits is her personality coming through the page. I know I would love her if I met her. She is so clever, and I love the adorable way she thinks. She sees things differently, or maybe more honestly than most. Or she is not afraid to admit her failings and shortcomings. Whatever the case, she is without a doubt my cup of tea.

The honesty present on the page makes Julavits trustworthy. She isn't going to lie to us. You can count on Julavits to teach us something she might have learned, even the hard way. When Julavits once resurrected Jesus on the page I felt a bit of nausea or trepidation at least. But within a second or two I knew she had done it again and surprised me with more of her unvarnished truth. The book is full of these types of comments within the stories of how she connected, or attempted to remember moments involved with raising her young son. The story of the birth of her son, the midwife, the actual labor and what happened is a dandy. There isn’t much in this book that isn’t. Every anecdote fits in this tightly knit memoir. Julavits has done it again.

While the writing in t his book can be interesting and beautiful, the whole memoir is so self-indulgent and so risk-averse that it made no difference. Julavits equivocates about important issues like rape and engages in magical thinking to justify her actions or lack thereof. Ultimately, what was the point of the book? It felt like a betrayal of other women, of professors, of adults as a whole.

Beautifully written memoir of a span of time in the authors life.As a mom of a young boy I I completely related to her son changing no longer the little one completely attached now changing to the beginnings of an independent young man and the emotions thoughts this brings out in the author.#netgalley #randomhouse

This book was difficult for me to get into. I wanted to give right in but for some
Reason the writing was making it hard for me to enjoy the story.

I do appreciate NetGalley for providing me an ARC and I hope the book is a success.

Beautifully written memoir of a certain span of time when a boy changes from toddlerhood to boyhood. Mothers of sons will relate. Julavits is an accomplished writer and her prose is enchanting. Highly recommended. Thank to NetGalley for the ARC.

While reading "Directions to Myself," I found myself thoroughly enjoying Julavits' memoir and how her memories returned me to my long ago days of raising a young daughter. The memoir takes place in their apartment near the university where she and her husband work and at their cottage in Maine, not that far from where she grew up. We learn a lot about sailing, her mother's navigational skills, and the author's navigational skills in parenting, in particular with her young son. I've read parenting essays about raising her daughter, who is just a few years older than the son, and the author points out, they are basically (poor paraphrasing) on their own after ten, and this is about those four years with her son, when she realizes how much her role of parenting will change.

The author doesn't try to make herself look like the perfect parent, quite the opposite, but I'm sure many readers will wish they had the complex conversations she has with children, and they probably have but just didn't notice. She's quite frank about sexuality, frightening stories, and inquisitive reflections with her children. Throughout the memoir, we see how often her son is mistaken for a girl. When her daughter confronts her by saying he wants his hair cut but he's afraid to tell the mother, she provides a list of reasons, some rather New-agey, and one wonders if this is in jest, and she's playing with her readers, or if the reasons are her true reasons, yet, when the book finishes, we never learn that her ten-year-old son has had a haircut.

The prose is not only playful, but poignant. I kept wishing I was reading this in print, not electronically, because I wanted to mark pages to reread later, which I never do with an e-book. I'm quite sure the folks in Maine will be thrilled to have this book on their shelves, as will most parents, and I've already suggested that my daughter order it for her cnf students next fall. It's that good for readers of all ages and places.