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A Wolf at the Table: A Memoir of My Father | 
 enlarge | Author: Augusten Burroughs
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Category: Book
List Price: $24.95
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Rating:  127 reviews
Sales Rank: 1509
Media: Hardcover
Number Of Items: 1
Pages: 256
Shipping Weight (lbs): 0.8
Dimensions (in): 8.2 x 5.6 x 1.1
ISBN: 0312342020
Dewey Decimal Number: 813.6
EAN: 9780312342029
ASIN: 0312342020
Publication Date: April 29, 2008
Availability: Usually ships in 1-2 business days
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Shipping: International shipping available
Condition: New hardback.
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Amazon.com Review
Amazon Significant Seven, April 2008: When I started reading A Wolf at the Table, I thought I knew what to expect. Augusten Burroughs captures intense experience with an inexplicably cool remove, imparting a stillness and purity to emotions that would likely run amok in anyone else's hands. I love this quality of his writing, and it's present in full force in this memoir of a childhood spent in thrall to a predatory and deeply unpredictable father. What I wasn't prepared for was the suspense--the dread-filled, nearly sonorous waiting for the worst to happen. An artful sort of bait-and-switch happens in the telling: Burroughs brings you to the brink of a terrible catharsis more than once, but the break in tension never comes. It is profoundly sad, remarkably tender, and fueled by a sense of love and reverence that only a child knows. --Anne Bartholomew
Product Description
“As a little boy, I had a dream that my father had taken me to the woods where there was a dead body. He buried it and told me I must never tell. It was the only thing we’d ever done together as father and son, and I promised not to tell. But unlike most dreams, the memory of this one never left me. And sometimes…I wasn’t altogether sure about one thing: was it just a dream?” When Augusten Burroughs was small, his father was a shadowy presence in his life: a form on the stairs, a cough from the basement, a silent figure smoking a cigarette in the dark. As Augusten grew older, something sinister within his father began to unfurl. Something dark and secretive that could not be named. Betrayal after shocking betrayal ensued, and Augusten’s childhood was over. The kind of father he wanted didn’t exist for him. This father was distant, aloof, uninterested… And then the “games” began. With A Wolf at the Table, Augusten Burroughs makes a quantum leap into untapped emotional terrain: the radical pendulum swing between love and hate, the unspeakably terrifying relationship between father and son. Told with scorching honesty and penetrating insight, it is a story for anyone who has ever longed for unconditional love from a parent. Though harrowing and brutal, A Wolf at the Table will ultimately leave you buoyed with the profound joy of simply being alive. It’s a memoir of stunning psychological cruelty and the redemptive power of hope.
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| Customer Reviews: Read 122 more reviews...
 The Bad Father December 1, 2008
I read this book in two days because it was so harrowing and riveting. The author grew up in a household with a depressed mother and a cold, uncaring father who showed signs of being a psychopath. It's amazing that Burroughs survived with all of his intellgence and sanity intact. There may be some people who think that households like this do not exist, but they will have to think again. The more people that survive child abuse and speak out about it, the better. Burroughs has done a great service and has created beautiful, horrifying art at the same time. Highly recommended.
Ok, I admit. I'm a huge fan. December 1, 2008
I've read all his books and am fascinated by Augusten Burroughs' writing. This addition to his series of memoirs gives great insight into his relationship (or lack thereof) with his father.
 Burroughs Running Out of Material... November 20, 2008
2 out of 2 found this review helpful
If you have read Burrough's other memoirs, you will find this to be a big departure as it lacks the acerbic wit of the others. Unfortunately, without the humor, Burrough's writing is flat, dull, and unbearably boring. Here we have another "poor me," memoir written by a writer who has made millions off the genre, without the substance that made the others ones so entertaining. One has to wonder what he's going to write about once he runs out of people who have tortured him in the past. Maybe how mean all his critics were to him? A memoir about being sued by the "Finch" family?
In this book, Burroughs characterizes his father as a cold, sadistic, sociopath, but all I saw was a typical alcoholic with a debilitating case of rheumatoid psoriasis thrown in for good measure. We're supposed to feel great sympathy for Burroughs because his father won't hug him and forgets to feed his gerbil when he's away, but when I think about the Nixmary Browns of the world, it's hard for me to muster much pity, not when he's warm, fed, safe, and with a roof over his head...all due to his father.Forgetting to feed pets, children, etc is pretty typical behavior for a drunk... and is it possible that his father won't hug him due to the fact that he's covered with painful, flaking sores over his entire body? (Hmmm, could it be)???
The climax of this pity party occurs when Burroughs runs out of food as a young adult in his first apartment, and asks his father to bring him some. You will find a tear coming to your eye (no sarcasm, I swear)! when his father shows up with half a loaf of day old bread, some bologna, and a can of Hi-C. How horrible! Burroughs cites this as evidence of his father's sociopathy and lack of empathy, completely glossing over the fact that he told his father he needed just a little food to tide him over for a few days, and never bothered telling him what to bring or how much. Not to mention, a NORMAL PERSON just says,"Hey Dad? Can I borrow ten dollars to buy food?" Was this a test? If so, his father failed.
Don't get me wrong, no one's going to nominate Burrough's dad as parent of the year anytime soon, but he's just not the monster his son attempts to portray. Burroughs repeatedly tries to paint himself as a loving, innocent kid, but if his memoirs are any indication, he's a spoiled, ungrateful brat. He also tends to downplay his own contributions to his family's dysfunction. One example? At the end of the book, he speaks about how he calls his father often to maintain a connection, and never gets what he's looking for in that relationship. Yet, if you read DRY, another one of Burrough's memoirs, he calls his father up, screams accusations at him, gets the old man sobbing, and only ceases because his stepmother hangs up the phone on him. Is that how he maintains the weekly connection? One would think so, given his stepmother's reaction ("that's enough") and Burrough's nonchalance afterwards. And is crying at his son's words the behavior of a typical sociopath? I don't think so. No wonder his father doesn't have any deathbed words for him. We're supposed to end the book feeling sad for poor Augusten and once more impressed that he triumphed over the horrible people in his life. I just felt absolutely disgusted, and wondering if his calling his father a sociopath is a projection-if he is really the true sociopath here.
Haunting and completely engaging November 19, 2008
1 out of 1 found this review helpful
I decided to read this book because I was pulled in by Running with Scissors by this author. I cannot say that I loved the other book but I could not put it down. I considered it to be like a train wreck. You know you should stop looking but you just can't help yourself. So, here I am again...becoming completely engaged with Augusten and his life.
Whereas Running with Scissors was like a train wreck, this book pulls at your heartstrings. This book is written with the innocence of childhood. Full of complete love and adoration for a man who refuses even the slightest glance for his poor son who only wanted to be held. Augusten would fight "the arms" and try to get past them to get to his father. He would ask questions and do everything he could for his father. His father however, refused to reciprocate this love. The most Augusten ever received from his father was an automatic "very much I love you too" at bedtime.
Though childhood innocence can protect a boy from many hurts in life, this innocence does not last forever. Unfortunately, Augusten learned too soon that something was wrong or "missing" from his father. Innocence was replaced by fear, fear replaced by terror, and terror replaced by desperation. All he ever wanted was love, compassion, approval.
Though Augusten's father had his own share of childhood pain and torture, the cycle must be broken at some point. This man was not strong enough to do so. The "games" repeat themselves and become more sadistic.
Finishing this book I could not help but stare at the picture of Augusten Burroughs on the back cover. His eyes seemed to pierce through me and I marveled at how this man, who survived so much, could have made something so wonderful of himself. There is something in this man that helped him survive. Could it have truly been a half loaf of bread, five slices of bologna, and a can of fruit punch that pushed him to make something of himself? Was it the love he lifted from a complete stranger that was the catalyst? Either way, Augusten Burroughs has a way with words. He pulls you in and forces you to run, terrified, through the woods with him. His sadness for the "outside" dog transcends the pages and becomes your sadness. His fears of becoming his father become your fears. This is a man who grabs hold of your spirit, emotions, your soul and he refuses to let you go. You are with him and he is with you...always.
 Do you have to love your father? November 14, 2008
Hitler was somebody's father. Not actually true, but he could have been. Stalin was somebody's father, how's that? A Wolf at the Table explores Burroughs relationship with his father, continuing to flesh out the story from his earlier memoir. The story is brutally honest, or at least it seems so. A son who desperately wants his father's love and never truly understands that his father was never worthy of the effort. Do you have to love your father just because he's your father?
One suspects once again that Burroughs, who changed his name to sounded more "literary," is engaging in great liberties with the truth. So what? I never understood why he was so defensive about Running With Scissors (which, due to a lawsuit, had the word "memoir" stripped from it). The memoir form is supposed to represent the author's experience, not the letter of what happened.
Also I must note it's a terrible, heavy-handed title. Why not call it My Father Was Bad Man. The book exceeds the title.
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