“Helget breaks open the tough shell of family life to reveal a girlhood both tragic and lovely, with all its hidden violence, all its secret beauty.”—Carolyn Parkhurst, author of The Dogs of Babel
Practicing baseball with Dad, then watching him go after a cow with a pitchfork in a fit of rage. Playing chicken on the county road with semi trucks full of hogs. Flirting with the milkman. Chasing with your sisters after Wreck and Bump, mangy mutts who prowl farmsteads killing chickens and drinking fuel oil. Dandelion wine. The ghost of a girl buried alive over a century ago. These unforgettable, sometimes hilarious images spill from a fierce and wondrous childhood into the pages of The Summer of Ordinary Ways.
The Summer of Ordinary Ways: A Memoir FROM OUR EDITORS
The Barnes & Noble Review from Discover Great New Writers
Growing up, Nicole Helget's life was a lesson in contrasts: She'd watch through the steamy windows of the warm kitchen as the bitter Minnesota winters blanketed her family's farm, and learned to catch fly balls from the same man who felled his favorite cow in a macabre scene with a pitchfork. Likewise her memoir, The Summer of Ordinary Ways, is one of rare depth and intensity, a portrait of a family and a way of life that's deceptive in its simplicity. Peeling away layer upon layer of the seemingly mundane, Helget uncovers drama in the family routine as she explores a girlhood marked in equal parts by love and brutality.
Whether "Colie," as her family calls her, is flirting with the milkman or raising hell with her sisters, her life is circumscribed by the boundaries of home, family, and daily chores. But home is a small farm in a remote midwestern town, and her family is burdened with more than its share of pain and unhappiness. Toughened by farm work and a volatile father, Colie learns to navigate the minefields of home and adolescence with determination and grit and arrives, finally, at a hard-won self-assurance. Piercing in its truthfulness, Helget's is a wondrous memoir, a record both brave and revelatory that lingers in the minds of its readers long after the last page is turned. (Holiday 2005 Selection)
FROM THE PUBLISHER
Practicing baseball with Dad, then watching him go after a cow with a pitchfork in a fit of rage. Playing chicken on the county road with semi trucks full of hogs. Flirting with the milkman. Chasing with your sisters after Wreck and Bump, mangy mutts who prowl farmsteads killing chickens and drinking fuel oil. Dandelion wine. The ghost of a girl buried alive over a century ago. These unforgettable, sometimes hilarious images spill from a fierce and wondrous childhood into the pages of The Summer of Ordinary Ways.
FROM THE CRITICS
Publishers Weekly
Helget's debut begins with a staggering example of her father's brutality: he mercilessly beats a cow to death for not weaning her calf. Yet Helget refuses to succumb to a "woe is me" attitude, and she layers vignettes to create a lyrical story of growing up on a Minnesota farm in the 1980s, where her mother verges on insanity, her five unruly younger sisters get underfoot, and death is a familiar part of life. The memoir's charm lies in Helget's dulcet use of language; even as she describes the century-old death of a little girl accidentally buried alive, her words sing: "Colors explode behind her lids, the colors of poppies and apples and straw and cantaloupe and leaves and Monarchs and stars and sky. And yet... she struggles to open her eyes.... it's black where she is." The amalgamation of reminiscences appears random until the final piece, in which Helget weaves an account of her child self with that of her adult self, providing context for the previous memories. Pregnant and married at 19, lonely and isolated, Helget tantalizes with a brief peek at her adulthood, but it's enough, because the glimpses into her younger life so satisfyingly explain who she has become. (Oct.) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Library Journal
Watching her father kill a dairy cow with a pitchfork is one of many memories Helget (winner, 2004 Speakeasy Prize for Prose) recalls in her first book, a memoir of her childhood. Readers will find her experiences growing up on a dairy farm the eldest of six girls a very humbling experience and will feel the children's pain as Helget recalls them watching their father come home drunk and in a rage, shoot all 13 of their puppies, and eventually leave them; and their mother always pregnant and angry and burning all of dad's things. Also scattered throughout the book are recipes for corn whiskey and dandelion and rhubarb wine. Though seemingly sad and absurd, this story revolving around Helget's childhood and eventually her dealings with her own family as an adult is actually very heartening. Recommended for all public libraries.-Tina Stepp, Henerson Cty. P.L., NC Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
Memoir of a farm childhood too often buffeted by parental rage and melancholy. Born in 1976, first-time author Helget grew up in Sleepy Eye, Minn., a deeply parochial place where her family tended 80 acres. Her father was a reluctant farmer-he played Triple-A ball for five years before the Red Sox let him go in 1977-and her mother was a reluctant parent, despite bearing six daughters. They rode an emotional roller coaster: Dad would lose himself in fierce moods, at one point pitch-forking a cow to death when it would not leave her calf, another time striking his wife with a blazing hot pan; Mom would retreat into silent glooms and lock herself away, emerging only for Sunday church services. Yet Helget also depicts her father as "a man who can be so lovely sometimes that you and your sisters collect under the wonder of him" and writes with sympathy of the genes that held her mother captive. She carries those genes herself, the author finds. "We have a way of making a man love us and suffer him for doing it," she notes of herself and her sisters. "While we love our babies, we detest ourselves and wrestle against anything and everything to deny and prove it." Mercifully, Helget also tells stories of a different tone that let the reader catch a breath: One concerns Wreck and Bump, two lowly but ambitious mutts bent on fornication and chicken meat, drinking moonshine and motor oil. Most of the chapters, it must be admitted, are overcast with bleakness-what a wonder it is, then, that Helget's storytelling feels so fresh and vitalBeautifully crafted, each chapter a balanced and snug set piece with sentences as carefully constructed as a stone wall.