A WOLF AT THE TABLE: A Memoir of My Father
Augusten Burroughs
St. Martin’s Press
Memoir
ISBN: 9780312342029

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Augusten Burroughs has written some funny books. Prominent among them is his autobiographical RUNNING WITH SCISSORS, about growing up with an older brother with Asperger Syndrome, a mother with mental illness who retreated from conflict, and a father who was an alcoholic. Burroughs managed to mine that potentially horrific set of circumstances for nuggets of skewed humor. In A WOLF AT THE TABLE, he gives up the struggle to find amusement there and tells it like it was. The result is gripping, depressing and at times truly scary.

The wolf is Burroughs's dad, a man who battled the demons of booze, demons that in the author's skilled treatment often come to terrifying life. The flawed patriarch abused his wife and children, forcing them all to exist within his life-despising mental morass. As a small child who had a right to expect a modicum of love from his parents, Burroughs simply learned to retreat and expect very little from Daddy --- no hugs, almost no touching, no walks, no talks, no kind words. His father, a college professor, sat and drank, demanding utmost quiet while he did so. The second son became an invalid who hid from the world. Incident after incident infused his young spirit with hopes, then dashed them.

One day Burroughs’s father took him to the University, to his classroom. The boy, seeing some space on the blackboard, began to scribble. He informed Burroughs with a smile, "That was a bad idea." Burroughs became used to feeling a chill in the air when his father smiled: "there was nothing happy in that smile."

Burroughs begins the memoir with a scene in which he is being hunted by a ravening presence: "if my father caught me, he would cut my neck." The child in his pajamas races, blundering through the woods, trying to elude "the jabbing slash from his flashlight." Nightmare? Or fact? Later, we are told, he sees a telltale pine needle in his father's hair.

As time passes, Burroughs's brother becomes an increasing burden to the family, exhibiting wildly anti-social behavior and only occasionally acting in a sane way to try to help his younger sibling survive the horror. At one point, his method was to teach the boy how to shoot a rifle, telling him, "You have to be able to protect yourself because I won't be around."

So where was the mother in this family drama? Passive, mentally unstable, far too weak to combat her cold, often enraged husband, she was probably unfit to raise children, even in the happiest of circumstances. She married someone who was promising, a rising star among men, who was studying for the ministry. Not long after their wedding, the star fell. The man of God lost his faith, dropped out of his studies and began to worship the seductive satan of alcohol. He later developed psoriatic arthritis, which compounded his misery and his hatred of all things life-affirming and comforting to others. Over the long years of Burroughs's lost childhood, his father became paranoid and his mother the trembling prey for his fits of anger. At best, he was a control freak and she was his cowering lackey.

A few times she ran away, taking her confused son with her. For a little while there would be an unsettled peace, in a motel room, with the only parent who touched him and confided in him. Then she would be taken away, institutionalized, and return home in a zombie state, all the heavy tranquilizers still unable to suppress her need to scream occasionally. The deaths of two family dogs underscore the evil that roamed the house. One was ignored when it was clearly sick, and despite Burroughs's childish alerts, it died without succor. The other was finally put out of its misery after it turned savagely aggressive.

More than once, from an early age, Burroughs had fantasies of killing his father. But he could not, he realized, because his father hadn't whipped and tortured him --- "all he was guilty of was not wanting me."

No matter how "normal" one's childhood, there are moments when a child simply cannot comprehend the actions and thoughts that emanate from the grownup realm. Mistakes are made in the "best" of homes. This book chronicles one long, depressing, harrowing series of life-ruining mistakes. That its author pulled through is a small miracle of resilience. Burroughs sets up no signposts along this perilous route. He simply re-walks his childhood path, every harrowing step of the way, and we walk a few steps behind, putting our feet, often reluctantly, in his small footsteps.

A WOLF AT THE TABLE is being hailed as a masterpiece created by a remarkable talent, and all the praise is fully deserved. Though a difficult read, you will find something of yourself in it.

    --- Reviewed by Barbara Bamberger Scott

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