As daughters, we bounce off our mothers in ways that are both mysterious and ancient. Even in anger — maybe especially then — we’re tethered to them. My mother and I have never been mild with one another. Whether we were miles apart and blaming each other or strongly and lovingly bonded together, our emotions burned up the color chart. Nothing was ever gray.
It’s not the most well-written book in the world, but I have found these anecdotes of how these famous daughters dealt with their mothers’ imperfections to be helpful benchmarks in observing my own relationship with my mother. Davis is neither preachy nor pedantic; she’s simply giving us vignettes from different women’s lives, and I like that.
The Lives Our Mothers Leave Us