Melody Murray's Books

Beha struck me as a memoirist who missed opportunity after opportunity in this memoir. He alluded to several interesting periods of his life, but he chose instead to share the random, the odd and the banal. For instance, I would have enjoyed much more on how the books he was reading resonated with his loss of faith (and the suffering said loss has obviously caused him) rather than the recounting of his trip to the sperm bank with his mom. I came away discontent, cranky, and only a little more knowledgeable about the Harvard Classics. I'd like to read his grandmother's biography, though. Maybe he'll write that next.