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A review by richardrbecker
Nowhere Girl: A Memoir of a Fugitive Childhood by Cheryl Diamond
3.0
I recently joined an alumni book club. It had chosen Nowhere Girl. And although it led to some interesting side discussions, the book honestly left me baffled.
It's the supposedly true-life story of Cheryl Diamond (pen name), a girl who grew up in a country-hoping family on the run from international law enforcement agencies. But the book breaks down so many places that it leaves some readers scratching their heads. Is this a true-life story that is stranger than fiction? Or is this a story made up by the con man's daughter?
Many reviewers have called out some of the more obvious pitfalls associated with the many places Diamond finds herself growing up. But what is more perplexing to me is why the Diamond family, despite being on the run, continually places its kids in high-profile youth sports programs (that would lead to the Olympics, no less)? Or how can a 4-year-old quickly comprehend a combustion engine's internal workings? Or how, of all the characters, can Diamond retain a resolve so perfect that it becomes increasingly difficult to connect with her as the book progresses?
Sure, other reviewers celebrate her struggle, but there comes the point when you start to feel like there is no struggle at all — that Diamond is a wonder woman who floats through life like Forrest Gump. She is an outlaw, princess, Olympic-level athlete (swimmer, dancer, gymnast), family peacemaker, self-taught whiz kid, supermodel, Crohn's disease survivor, best-selling author, and on and on. And while some of these things are probably true, it's even more remarkable that she single-handedly thwarts all the abusive men in her life — her brother, father, and grandfather — simply by calling them out or staring them down (or whacking them once in the head with a frying pan as the case may be). And, even more remarkably, she never appears scarred by the events that have unfolded around her. They only make her stronger and, perhaps, a little less human.
The net sum takeaway for me is that George R.R. Martin was right. "We're all the heroes of our own stories.” Except in Diamond's case, she is the bonafide superhero of her own terse stories.
It's the supposedly true-life story of Cheryl Diamond (pen name), a girl who grew up in a country-hoping family on the run from international law enforcement agencies. But the book breaks down so many places that it leaves some readers scratching their heads. Is this a true-life story that is stranger than fiction? Or is this a story made up by the con man's daughter?
Many reviewers have called out some of the more obvious pitfalls associated with the many places Diamond finds herself growing up. But what is more perplexing to me is why the Diamond family, despite being on the run, continually places its kids in high-profile youth sports programs (that would lead to the Olympics, no less)? Or how can a 4-year-old quickly comprehend a combustion engine's internal workings? Or how, of all the characters, can Diamond retain a resolve so perfect that it becomes increasingly difficult to connect with her as the book progresses?
Sure, other reviewers celebrate her struggle, but there comes the point when you start to feel like there is no struggle at all — that Diamond is a wonder woman who floats through life like Forrest Gump. She is an outlaw, princess, Olympic-level athlete (swimmer, dancer, gymnast), family peacemaker, self-taught whiz kid, supermodel, Crohn's disease survivor, best-selling author, and on and on. And while some of these things are probably true, it's even more remarkable that she single-handedly thwarts all the abusive men in her life — her brother, father, and grandfather — simply by calling them out or staring them down (or whacking them once in the head with a frying pan as the case may be). And, even more remarkably, she never appears scarred by the events that have unfolded around her. They only make her stronger and, perhaps, a little less human.
The net sum takeaway for me is that George R.R. Martin was right. "We're all the heroes of our own stories.” Except in Diamond's case, she is the bonafide superhero of her own terse stories.