The New York Times Book Review - Cheryl Strayed
Between Them is driven by the author's curiosity about who his parents were—both who they seemed to him to be in their lives and who, in retrospect, he imagines they might have been beyond his view. It's through this innate desire to know, paired with Ford's exceptional abilities as a prose craftsman, that these two ordinary people are made vital and vivid to us on the page. His depictions and examinations of his parents before and after he was born—their mannerisms and bearings, their wounds and silences, their squabbles and pleasures—offer a master class in character development and narrative economy…There's a vulnerability that I've not observed in Ford's work before, a tender surrender to the search. What makes this book so moving is, in part, Ford's glorious engagement with the unknowable that we, paradoxically, come to memoir for…It has often been said that to pay attention is the greatest act of love, and Ford has paid masterly attention in Between Them. But he has also done more. In this slim beauty of a memoir, he has given us—the same way he has given us many times in his fiction—a remarkable story about two unremarkable people we would have never known, but for him. Which he couldn't have written, but for them.
From the Publisher
Affection and insightful...deep, attentive...In this slim beauty of a memoir, [Ford] has given us—the same way he has given us many times in his fiction—a remarkable story about two unremarkable people we would have never known, but for him.” — Cheryl Strayed, New York Times Book Review
“[A]n honest recording of two ‘wonderful’ if ordinary parents...Ford notes how the act of writing a memoir, of having the last word, discloses his own shortcomings, then and now...‘It is merely how life is,’ the ultimate truth to which this affecting book is witness.” — Boston Globe
“In this beautiful and tender memoir, Ford seems to see all of the important details. He makes his readers grateful that he shared them.” — Portland Press Herald
“By any standards, this is a singular volume, as peculiarly personal as it is slim…a subtle, careful testament to devotion and a son’s love for his parents.” — Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
“Every page of this little remembrance teems with Ford’s luxuriant prose, his moving and tender longing for his parents, and his affecting and intimate portrait of two people simply living life as best they can.” — Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“A masterful distillation of sensuous description, psychological intricacy, social insights, and a keen sense of place. Ford’s reflections are bright with wit, edgy with candor, and lustrous with extraordinary poignancy and love.” — BookPage
Boston Globe
[A]n honest recording of two ‘wonderful’ if ordinary parents...Ford notes how the act of writing a memoir, of having the last word, discloses his own shortcomings, then and now...‘It is merely how life is,’ the ultimate truth to which this affecting book is witness.
Cheryl Strayed
Affection and insightful...deep, attentive...In this slim beauty of a memoir, [Ford] has given us—the same way he has given us many times in his fiction—a remarkable story about two unremarkable people we would have never known, but for him.
Portland Press Herald
In this beautiful and tender memoir, Ford seems to see all of the important details. He makes his readers grateful that he shared them.
BookPage
A masterful distillation of sensuous description, psychological intricacy, social insights, and a keen sense of place. Ford’s reflections are bright with wit, edgy with candor, and lustrous with extraordinary poignancy and love.
Austin American-Statesman
[A] deeply felt and magnificently imagined work…With Canada, Ford has given us his deepest exploration yet of weakness and betrayal set amid a boy’s coming of age. It is a memorable novel, suffused with love, sorrow and regret.
Toronto Star
While we’ve seen versions of Ford’s parents in his stories and novels, to have them here in their own right is thrilling, heartbreaking and ultimately enlivening.
USA Today
…you don’t read the Bascombe books for plot. You read them for Ford’s gleaming sentences, which in Let Me Be Frank are as burnished as ever, and for the quality of Frank’s questing intelligence, which persists in sensing what’s coming.
The Globe and Mail
Elegant prose . . . unassuming but sweetly profound phraseology. . . . The most moving thing he’s written.
Washington Post
[Canada]confirms his position as one of the finest stylists and most humane storytellers in America… his most elegiac and profound book…
Washington Independent Review of Books
[A] novel about big truths told by a writer with clear vision…solid, satisfying craftsmanship. This is a Richard Ford novel in the tradition of his earlier work. It also is a coming-of-age story, and a story about the discovery of identity.
New York Journal of Books
[Subtle] stories told with wit and grace… Ford has established himself as one of contemporary America’s most interesting storytellers. Let Me be Frank with You does nothing to diminish this well-deserved reputation.
Washington Post
[Canada]confirms his position as one of the finest stylists and most humane storytellers in America… his most elegiac and profound book…
USA Today
…you don’t read the Bascombe books for plot. You read them for Ford’s gleaming sentences, which in Let Me Be Frank are as burnished as ever, and for the quality of Frank’s questing intelligence, which persists in sensing what’s coming.
Kirkus Reviews
★ 2017-03-07
The Pulitzer Prize-winning fiction writer tells what he knows of the marriage of his loving parents—and what he can never know, as the only child who came between them.This is a memoir that seems to have been written more for Ford (Let Me Be Frank with You, 2014, etc.) than for his readers, and it reveals as much about the writer as it does about his parents. Neither of these observations implies fault, only that the renowned novelist recognizes how the selection of detail and the limitations of memory inform a narrative and how the writer's craft inevitably makes the results as much about the writer (and his craft) as his subject. By any standards, this is a singular volume, as peculiarly personal as it is slim. There are two sections, one devoted to each parent: "Gone: Remembering My Father" and "My Mother, In Memory." The second was written three decades before the first, shortly after his mother's death. Ford's father had died much earlier, leaving his mother alone in the world to raise the son she loved, but not in the way she had loved his father. "He was her protector, but she was his," writes the author. "If it meant that I was further from the middle of things, I have lived my entire life thinking this is the proper way to be a family." There is some duplication in the material, the few incidents that seemed so significant in the life of each of his parents, recollected separately across a gap of three decades. There is also conjecture, as Ford imagines the lives of each before they met each other—and their life together before they had the child who would change everything. "For all this to be a blissful life," writes the author, "love is certainly required, and a willingness—on my part—to fill some things in and deflect others." A subtle, careful testament to devotion and a son's love for his parents.
