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A review by brice_mo
The Family Outing by Jessi Hempel
2.0
My two stars feel generous, despite the fact that there's nothing technically wrong with The Family Outing.
As other reviews have noted, this book just lands. . . weirdly. COVID led to a lot of great memoirs as people were forced to practice interiority, but it also produced too many books that feel unnecessary, as if their authors felt obligated to just put something on paper. I think good memoir always has a sense of urgency—the story must be told. Unfortunately, The Family Outing doesn't have any of that momentum, instead feeling like a project that Jessi Hempel conceived to kill time during lockdown. That's not a bad starting point, but the book never moves beyond that, and the problem is exacerbated by the book's length.
This isn’t a story—it’s a history. As such, it’s difficult to identify what Hempel is trying to do. Instead of using memoir as a means of approaching a hidden truth, the author simply lists facts and events, all of which are too preciously guarded to convey the kind of vulnerability needed to sustain a book this long.
The best way to describe the reading experience is to imagine a stranger showing you their family scrapbook. You can tell that it's meaningful to Hempel's family because they have all of the necessary context and memories, but the more you flip through the book, the more you become acutely aware of how little it actually reveals.
As other reviews have noted, this book just lands. . . weirdly. COVID led to a lot of great memoirs as people were forced to practice interiority, but it also produced too many books that feel unnecessary, as if their authors felt obligated to just put something on paper. I think good memoir always has a sense of urgency—the story must be told. Unfortunately, The Family Outing doesn't have any of that momentum, instead feeling like a project that Jessi Hempel conceived to kill time during lockdown. That's not a bad starting point, but the book never moves beyond that, and the problem is exacerbated by the book's length.
This isn’t a story—it’s a history. As such, it’s difficult to identify what Hempel is trying to do. Instead of using memoir as a means of approaching a hidden truth, the author simply lists facts and events, all of which are too preciously guarded to convey the kind of vulnerability needed to sustain a book this long.
The best way to describe the reading experience is to imagine a stranger showing you their family scrapbook. You can tell that it's meaningful to Hempel's family because they have all of the necessary context and memories, but the more you flip through the book, the more you become acutely aware of how little it actually reveals.