by Chelsea Cain
The author of this little, fast-moving book was born into a loose commune in Iowa in the early 1970s. It was a cacophony of people passing through a large farmhouse in the country. Chelsea was the only child in the group, and was part of a big hippie extended family. When this book opens, she is in her 20s and living in an anonymous suburban sprawl in Irvine. She has come unglued from the values on which she was raised, and she realizes a big change will have to be made if she wants to regain a sense of those alternative values. Her mother is sick, too, and a sense of urgency runs through her telling of their road trip across the west, back to an Iowa that has no doubt changed in the intervening years. The book has numerous touching vignettes from Chelsea's childhood as little Snowbird looked over by the Snowqueen (her mother). There are insightful asides to her life today, and it is all tied together on their road trip. Though she was just six or seven when she left the commune, the place had a long-lasting affect on her. In the end, she regains some sense of what she was looking for, even if it is as simple as learning to live in the moment. The revelations in this book are not huge, but subtle observations on the life of a child of the hippies, to which I too felt connected. Cain shyly provides, perhaps, precious little in detail about those days, but as a view into the lives of the children of the children of the 60s, it is a gentle and rewarding book.
Also by Chelsea Cain: [Wild Child]
See also: [Split] & [Pagan Time]