Review 1

This is such an honest and brave book: the previously unpublished and brilliant-writings of the late John Steinbeck, IV, alternated with the equally-talented writing of his wife, Nancy. Their shared fate found them meeting in the crucible of the cult of Trungpa, the Tibetan Lama who brought his crazy Tantra to the West.

Nancy is one unique and very courageous woman, whose honesty takes on two fronts of idealized projections: the world of literary critics and Steinbeck aficionados, who never want the great author to have too many warts; and the idealized world of Trungpa’s Shambhala/Vajradhatu guru-worshiping group.

This is also a love story and it must have been a Herculean task for Nancy to both write this book and relive the joys and sorrows, the craziness, and the shared memories of two people, so well-matched in wit and humor and the ability to write so well; a spark of genius recognized in each other and that brings this memoir to life.

There is something and not a little, for everyone in this book: People who love the Steinbeck oeuvre, warts and all; people struggling with addiction of all kinds: substance abuse, trauma, gurus, and the ghosts of dysfunctional family relations, as well as the post-traumatic reality of being a soldier in Vietnam and coming home.

It is also a clear mirror reflecting further light on a time that, for most of us, has taken a lifetime to understand. A time in the twentieth century when gurus, flower children, drugs, rock and roll, and the Vietnam war, all conflated together in a kaleidoscopic pattern of memories that many of us still share. The treasure of this unique memoir is in Nancy‘s and John’s ability to be in the eye of this storm, and remain witness.

It debunks the idea that ‘if you remember this time’ you weren’t there.’ It shows that some people can be part of it, and still send dispatches to the rest of us, to make it more coherent. I would say John and Nancy continue the Steinbeck lineage of being able to capture a unique American period and transmit it through metaphor and prose to others, since this book is also a pleasure to read. I found myself laughing out loud and being moved to tears, at times. That’s when you know you have found a book that will resonate and be treasured through time.

Nancy was the muse for John to recover his sobriety for the last years of his life. He may have been her muse too, over her shoulder, to write this remarkable book. 
                               

Chris Chandler, author of Enthralled: The Guru Cult of Tibetan Buddhism