Some half-formed thoughts

While I’m a little late to this particular book fad, I’ve been intending to pick up Tara Westover’s Educated for over half a year now. I finally bought the book nearly 3 months ago, and still hadn’t touched in until I started it on a whim during my commute into Boston this morning. I figured it would be good to start reading for fun again now that I have an hour and a half commute each way every day, thinking this particular book would at least last me a week or something. But (as evidenced by how late I’m doing this blog post) I did absolutely NOTHING today except go to class and read Educated. And I can hands-down say that if I had not finished it by now, I would be staying up until I was done. I truthfully can’t remember the last time I read a book so good that I spent all day/night reading it—which is probably why the book has picked up the number of awards and accolades that it has. Truth be told, I’m still completely mindblown and processing everything I read today, so this probably won’t be a well-written or insightful blog post by any stretch of the imagination (sorry in advance!).

Although it provides a very humanizing glimpse into experiences that many people probably have not had, Educated explores some relatively universal truths at the same time: ideas about knowledge and power, familial ties and obligations, and what it means to have your own mind about the world you live in. I think one of the most poignant takeaways is simply the sheer complexity of people and of life itself. I was really fascinated by the reality of Westover’s story in that she doesn’t try to cover up what she doesn’t remember or hide contradictory accounts of the same story. In many instances she shares how her own memory of a particular event—even a largely significant event—differs in fairly substantial ways from that of her family members or others who were present, demonstrating the inherent unreliability and mutability of the past and of shared memories. Similarly, her characterization of her family gets right to the heart of the dichotomous and dissonant nature of human beings. Her inner turmoil over the concepts of truth and reality and how they connect to family loyalty lead to a really profound example of how no one person is innately “good” or “evil.”

I think that while there are many great books in the world, I wouldn’t personally classify every great book as a necessarily important book. Westover’s story, however, is indisputably an important one. Despite her somewhat unique situation, she grew up facing obstacles that are incredibly common: the shame, self-doubt, self-blame, and self-loathing that infiltrated and consumed all areas of her life (originating, primarily, from her family and their treatment of her) are in no way unique to her situation. Watching her fight through stages of denial, grieving, realization, liberation, backsliding, and (finally) healthy acceptance helps to shed light on emotions that can be really difficult to navigate and deal with.

All in all, this book is without a doubt worth a read.