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mstapel's review
4.0
Fascinating true story of a life engulfed in the dealing with the thick grasp of mental illness and addiction that is beautiful constructed in a vivid recounting of remorse and experience from this author's childhood to present. It highlights the struggles of addiction and the repeated attempts to quell a mentally racing and psychically damaged brain. The author's use of "You" instead of "I" allows the reader to place themselves in the author's shoes, creating sense of empathy and appreciation from an insider's perspective instead of the possible judgement of an outsider's. Beautifully tragic at all of the author has managed to accomplish and sully in his life, I would recommend this to others to appreciate and process.
annevoi's review
4.0
This book, told mostly in the second person and in a random chronology, relates the truths and lies—something the narrator has some difficulty parsing—of Roberge's life, a life divided between addiction and sobriety, a life marked by bipolar disorder and possibly CTE—chronic traumatic encephalopathy—which, if true (the only real way to diagnose this disease is after death), may cause Roberge to progressively lose his mind. I found myself strangely engaged by the narrator, despite his sometimes awful behavior: he's darkly humorous and eloquently, painfully honest as he describes such pivotal events as the murder of his childhood first sweetheart, years spent bouncing from one place to another in a haze of alcohol and drugs, other years of being clean, his marriage and his best-friendships, his family. It's written in bite-sized fragments that flit around in time, taking us from Boston to Florida to Humboldt County to Holland to the California desert. Interspersed are short accounts of people who have committed suicide—for the bracketing event of this memoir is Roberge's own would-be suicide.
"You're forty-three years old. You've been a college professor, a good husband, a good friend, an honest person. The disgrace of being arrested for heroin would burn even worse than taking a newcomer chip. Everyone would know. Shame is an endless white noise of pain in your head. You're confused and overwhelmed and you are as alone as you have every felt.
"You can't go to rehab. You can't admit your weakness to anyone, even though you know, god you know—what addict doesn't?—that addiction's not about intelligence and it's not about strength. Your whole life has been a lesson in this: Knowing something may make it a fact, but feeling something makes it a truth. And the truth is you are trapped. You have nowhere left to go that doesn't make you feel like your life has added up, in the end and despite some great moments, to you being a loser who just can't stay clean. Who can't keep people happy. Who can't function in this world. You're done. Defeated."
But in fact, he's not really done, but keeps rising again, keeps stumbling along learning new things about himself, about life. As one of the book epigraphs, by his best friend Gina Frangello, puts it, "Meaning isn't made only in a moment but in how it is processed over a lifetime." This is Roberge's processing.
One reason I picked up this book is that I "sort of" know Roberge: he taught at my low-residence MFA program (though I did not have him as an instructor) and he's a Facebook "friend," as are several of the people he mentions in the book: Gina and Tod and Patrick (Patrick I actually know in person). So it's as if I'm hearing the confessions, pain, struggle, and confusion of a friend. He makes me care, deeply, that he'll be okay.
"You're forty-three years old. You've been a college professor, a good husband, a good friend, an honest person. The disgrace of being arrested for heroin would burn even worse than taking a newcomer chip. Everyone would know. Shame is an endless white noise of pain in your head. You're confused and overwhelmed and you are as alone as you have every felt.
"You can't go to rehab. You can't admit your weakness to anyone, even though you know, god you know—what addict doesn't?—that addiction's not about intelligence and it's not about strength. Your whole life has been a lesson in this: Knowing something may make it a fact, but feeling something makes it a truth. And the truth is you are trapped. You have nowhere left to go that doesn't make you feel like your life has added up, in the end and despite some great moments, to you being a loser who just can't stay clean. Who can't keep people happy. Who can't function in this world. You're done. Defeated."
But in fact, he's not really done, but keeps rising again, keeps stumbling along learning new things about himself, about life. As one of the book epigraphs, by his best friend Gina Frangello, puts it, "Meaning isn't made only in a moment but in how it is processed over a lifetime." This is Roberge's processing.
One reason I picked up this book is that I "sort of" know Roberge: he taught at my low-residence MFA program (though I did not have him as an instructor) and he's a Facebook "friend," as are several of the people he mentions in the book: Gina and Tod and Patrick (Patrick I actually know in person). So it's as if I'm hearing the confessions, pain, struggle, and confusion of a friend. He makes me care, deeply, that he'll be okay.
vll295's review
3.0
A dark memoir about a guy named Rob who learns that he is a dementia like sickness. In his sickness, he starts to develop memory loss. In an effort to preserve his thoughts and memories, he starts to recall them. The book jumps from memory to memory. Depending on the memory, there are number of them that are interesting reads. I think that the point is that sometimes you may recall things that happen one way but that maybe was not quite the whole truth. An interesting book.
noonis's review
3.0
Really good and well written. I'd prefer to give this 3 1/2 stars but that doesn't exist here.
kattsnot's review
4.0
More often than not I had to remind myself this was not fiction. Captivating and entertaining, yet so raw and painful.
karenleagermain's review
5.0
Thank You to Crown Publishing for providing me with an advanced copy of Rob Roberge's memoir, Liar, in exchange for an honest review.
PLOT- Writer and musician Rob Roberge is trying to process his diagnosis of possible degenerative memory loss. Looking towards his future, he reflects on his past, including drug and alcohol addictions and mental health issues. When we look at the memories and personal stories that form our identities, how many of these are accurate? How much can we trust in our core memories and how much does the truth even matter?
LIKE- Roberge has led a wild and reckless life, which makes for a compelling memoir. It's unusual to read writing in a second person POV, but it works very well in Liar. Roberge uses this perspective deftly. It supports the story and doesn't come off as a gimmick. I was pulled right into the action, which was uncomfortable in many of the grittier parts of the memoir. Second person perspective feels dangerous, close, and unsafe, a perfect choice for Liar.
Roberge suffered many concussions, which may have eventual led to his current memory loss. When we are young, we often don't think of the long-term consequences of our actions. In fact, Roberge mentions that he lived life fully intending on dying before thirty. Although, anyone could easily imagine the potentially devastating effects of heavy drug and alcohol abuse, I had never given much thought to the cumulative effects of multiple head traumas. This is timely, with the same issue arising in the film/book, Concussion.
Liar leaps through different memories spanning Roberge's life. It's as if Roberge took all of his important memories and wrote them on index cards, scrambled up the cards and told Liar in this random arrangement. I'm sure that plenty of thought and care went into the arrangement of the memories, to make the effect seem casual. It works. It especially works well to not have the story linger too long in the darker, more depressing years of his life. Floating between time periods serves to lighten the memoir.
I was drawn to Roberge's confession that sometimes he obsesses over other people's tragedies, for example the death of a classmate in elementary school. The internet has fueled this obsession, giving him easy access to information. This confession also played into the theme of memories and how we remember stories and "facts" from our childhood.
DISLIKE- Nothing. Liar is utterly compelling.
RECOMMEND- Yes! Liar isn't for people who like to read happy and uplifting stories. It's a very dark and heavy memoir. Fascinating and well-crafted, but dark. Buyer beware!
Side Note- As a current student, I got a kick out of the mention of UCLA Extension Writer's Program. His experience as an instructor and dealing with a crazy student cracked me up.
Like my review? Check out my blog!
PLOT- Writer and musician Rob Roberge is trying to process his diagnosis of possible degenerative memory loss. Looking towards his future, he reflects on his past, including drug and alcohol addictions and mental health issues. When we look at the memories and personal stories that form our identities, how many of these are accurate? How much can we trust in our core memories and how much does the truth even matter?
LIKE- Roberge has led a wild and reckless life, which makes for a compelling memoir. It's unusual to read writing in a second person POV, but it works very well in Liar. Roberge uses this perspective deftly. It supports the story and doesn't come off as a gimmick. I was pulled right into the action, which was uncomfortable in many of the grittier parts of the memoir. Second person perspective feels dangerous, close, and unsafe, a perfect choice for Liar.
Roberge suffered many concussions, which may have eventual led to his current memory loss. When we are young, we often don't think of the long-term consequences of our actions. In fact, Roberge mentions that he lived life fully intending on dying before thirty. Although, anyone could easily imagine the potentially devastating effects of heavy drug and alcohol abuse, I had never given much thought to the cumulative effects of multiple head traumas. This is timely, with the same issue arising in the film/book, Concussion.
Liar leaps through different memories spanning Roberge's life. It's as if Roberge took all of his important memories and wrote them on index cards, scrambled up the cards and told Liar in this random arrangement. I'm sure that plenty of thought and care went into the arrangement of the memories, to make the effect seem casual. It works. It especially works well to not have the story linger too long in the darker, more depressing years of his life. Floating between time periods serves to lighten the memoir.
I was drawn to Roberge's confession that sometimes he obsesses over other people's tragedies, for example the death of a classmate in elementary school. The internet has fueled this obsession, giving him easy access to information. This confession also played into the theme of memories and how we remember stories and "facts" from our childhood.
DISLIKE- Nothing. Liar is utterly compelling.
RECOMMEND- Yes! Liar isn't for people who like to read happy and uplifting stories. It's a very dark and heavy memoir. Fascinating and well-crafted, but dark. Buyer beware!
Side Note- As a current student, I got a kick out of the mention of UCLA Extension Writer's Program. His experience as an instructor and dealing with a crazy student cracked me up.
Like my review? Check out my blog!
carolynaugustyn's review
3.0
Note: I received this book from the author/publisher in exchange for an honest review.
I love memoirs and I especially love memoirs that deal with mental health issues. So I was drawn to this book that promised a dark memoir about mental illness, addiction, and memory issues. And this definitely provided all of what was promised- it was certainly dark and often sad and upsetting. So I enjoyed the subject matter and found Roberge's attempts to document and sort through his history before his memory is too far gone really a very emotional and interesting read. The only reason I didn't love this book more was the way it was written. The book is told in the second person ("You do this, you say this" etc.) and jumps around through time as Roberge tries to reconstruct his past. I found this distracting and often confusing, trying to keep everything in order. I'm sure this was the intent of the book and will resonate strongly with readers but I found it a bit too distracting to me. Overall, I enjoyed the book and found that it was seriously well written but I did have some issues with the writing style and didn't ultimately connect with the story as much as I would have liked to.
I love memoirs and I especially love memoirs that deal with mental health issues. So I was drawn to this book that promised a dark memoir about mental illness, addiction, and memory issues. And this definitely provided all of what was promised- it was certainly dark and often sad and upsetting. So I enjoyed the subject matter and found Roberge's attempts to document and sort through his history before his memory is too far gone really a very emotional and interesting read. The only reason I didn't love this book more was the way it was written. The book is told in the second person ("You do this, you say this" etc.) and jumps around through time as Roberge tries to reconstruct his past. I found this distracting and often confusing, trying to keep everything in order. I'm sure this was the intent of the book and will resonate strongly with readers but I found it a bit too distracting to me. Overall, I enjoyed the book and found that it was seriously well written but I did have some issues with the writing style and didn't ultimately connect with the story as much as I would have liked to.
karieh13's review
4.0
Rob Roberge’s “Liar” is a very powerful memoir about mental illness and addiction – and the toll the two conditions have on people. How much dealing with one or the other or both drags people down and exhausts and terrifies those unfamiliar with the effects of completely unpredictable thoughts and behavior.
This in-depth look into the life of a person struggling with (what certainly sounds like) traumatic brain injury - in conjunction with bi-polar disorder is just heart breaking at times. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for the author to relive some of the events in his life, let alone put them in writing for his friends, family and for all the world to see.
This book is intensely personal – and at times – very uncomfortable to read. Some of his actions, whether drug/alcohol/illness fueled are just terrifying and I felt myself wanting to reach out to save him.
At one point, his girlfriend puts it incredibly well in the midst of their breakup: “She tells you she is worried about you alone. “The world just hits you full in the face every day,” she says.
Roberge seems incredibly fragile at times. With a brain and emotions that he cannot trust, and feelings and thoughts that come upon him quickly and intensely – most of which seem designed to makes things worse for him – it seems amazing to me that he’s done this well in life.
The title of the book, “Liar” was one of the most interesting parts to me. Because of his injuries and illnesses – he realizes that he is unsure which of the events and memories of his life are true and which are lies. He is unable to trust himself or what he thinks to be true. He only knows what he feels to be true.
“Shame is an endless white noise of pain in your head. You’re confused and overwhelmed and you are as alone as you have ever felt. You can’t go to rehab. You can’t admit your weakness to anyone, even though you know, god you know – what addict doesn’t? – that addiction’s not about intelligence and it’s not about strength. Your whole life has been a lesson in this: Knowing something may make it a fact, but feeling something makes it a truth.”
This was a disturbing and beautiful and painful and hopeful book. I wish Rob Roberge the best as he moves through life.
This in-depth look into the life of a person struggling with (what certainly sounds like) traumatic brain injury - in conjunction with bi-polar disorder is just heart breaking at times. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for the author to relive some of the events in his life, let alone put them in writing for his friends, family and for all the world to see.
This book is intensely personal – and at times – very uncomfortable to read. Some of his actions, whether drug/alcohol/illness fueled are just terrifying and I felt myself wanting to reach out to save him.
At one point, his girlfriend puts it incredibly well in the midst of their breakup: “She tells you she is worried about you alone. “The world just hits you full in the face every day,” she says.
Roberge seems incredibly fragile at times. With a brain and emotions that he cannot trust, and feelings and thoughts that come upon him quickly and intensely – most of which seem designed to makes things worse for him – it seems amazing to me that he’s done this well in life.
The title of the book, “Liar” was one of the most interesting parts to me. Because of his injuries and illnesses – he realizes that he is unsure which of the events and memories of his life are true and which are lies. He is unable to trust himself or what he thinks to be true. He only knows what he feels to be true.
“Shame is an endless white noise of pain in your head. You’re confused and overwhelmed and you are as alone as you have ever felt. You can’t go to rehab. You can’t admit your weakness to anyone, even though you know, god you know – what addict doesn’t? – that addiction’s not about intelligence and it’s not about strength. Your whole life has been a lesson in this: Knowing something may make it a fact, but feeling something makes it a truth.”
This was a disturbing and beautiful and painful and hopeful book. I wish Rob Roberge the best as he moves through life.
angiesix's review
2.0
I received an Advanced Reader Copy courtesy of the publisher. The publisher bills this as “an intense memoir about mental illness, memory and storytelling,” and they weren’t kidding about intense. Roberge’s writing about the many injuries and near-misses he sustained during his years of heavy drug and alcohol abuse are both vivid and difficult … and very intense. Frequent concussions and years of hard living have left Roberge with memory issues similar to the ones suffered by boxers and professional football players. His fear of losing his memories propel him to record his stories in this memoir - and Roberge has many stories to tell. He’s lived through the murders of more than one friend, cycled through addiction and recovery, struggled with mental illness and attempts at suicide. He also has victories to share: success as a musician, writer, and teacher, and a happy marriage.
I struggled with this book in a few ways, and found it compelling in others. Roberge’s writing is vivid and moving. You will feel things when you read this book, and many things will make you feel uncomfortable. Written in the second person, it took me a few chapters to acclimate myself to that narrative, but once I did I found it interesting. I also struggled with Roberge’s choice to go back and forth in time, repeatedly and without any pattern. While I appreciate that this writing style may serve to mimic the erratic workings of his brain, it was difficult to follow and connect events as a reader. My ultimate struggle with the book has nothing to do with the author or the quality of the writing, but with the topic. Anne Bogel, of Modern Mrs. Darcy, addressed the subject of books a reader will categorically not read. She writes of these books, “These are books that sound very, very interesting. The one pulling in rave reviews, the ones recommended by friends with great taste.” But they don’t get a place on your own particular reading list due to the nature of the subject. After reading “Liar” and comparing it to similar memoirs and works of fiction, I realize that the subject of addiction is more than likely one I will categorically not read in the future. They don’t sit well with me, and therefore cloud my judgement. I don’t disagree that Roberge is a talented writer and that “Liar” is an important work. But if you categorically have a difficult time with the subject of addiction, this may not be the right book for you.
I struggled with this book in a few ways, and found it compelling in others. Roberge’s writing is vivid and moving. You will feel things when you read this book, and many things will make you feel uncomfortable. Written in the second person, it took me a few chapters to acclimate myself to that narrative, but once I did I found it interesting. I also struggled with Roberge’s choice to go back and forth in time, repeatedly and without any pattern. While I appreciate that this writing style may serve to mimic the erratic workings of his brain, it was difficult to follow and connect events as a reader. My ultimate struggle with the book has nothing to do with the author or the quality of the writing, but with the topic. Anne Bogel, of Modern Mrs. Darcy, addressed the subject of books a reader will categorically not read. She writes of these books, “These are books that sound very, very interesting. The one pulling in rave reviews, the ones recommended by friends with great taste.” But they don’t get a place on your own particular reading list due to the nature of the subject. After reading “Liar” and comparing it to similar memoirs and works of fiction, I realize that the subject of addiction is more than likely one I will categorically not read in the future. They don’t sit well with me, and therefore cloud my judgement. I don’t disagree that Roberge is a talented writer and that “Liar” is an important work. But if you categorically have a difficult time with the subject of addiction, this may not be the right book for you.