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.

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.

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.

From the cover photo of the bent fork, the book builds to present the father as a menacing entity in the midst of seemingly neutral behavior (emotionally distant at best). It's about as edgy as you can get, not sure if the next paragraph will unveil the true "wolf" or if it will be tempered with sympathy for the father's pain. Awesome.

We've read much about the dysfunction of Augusten Burroughs's life, starting with his 2002 memoir "Running With Scissors" in which he described the bizarre experience of living with his mother's psychiatrist during the tumult of his adolescence. Though he briefly touched upon his parents' broken marriage in that memoir, he takes a magnifying glass to it here in "A Wolf At The Table", a book centered around the severely strained and demoralizing relationship between Augusten and his father John G. Robison, a former professor of philosophy at the University of Massachusetts Amherst.

With broad beastly strokes, Burroughs paints a dark portrait of his father, an alcoholic who neglected him as well as treated him like an ultimate hindrance and burden. The problems with Burroughs's mother Margaret are revisited, her consistent escapes from the horror of their home and her constant warnings of "your father isn't safe to be around" creating an early stigma. The problems of his older brother John Elder Robison are also hinted at; Robison published his own memoir in 2007 about coping with Asperger's syndrome.

Burroughs's writes of wanting physical affection so badly from his father that he went to ridiculous measures to achieve it, all to no avail. At 6 years of age, he realizes that his father offers more affection towards the family dog Cream and in response fashions a canine get-up from construction paper. He even goes so far as to confiscate some of his father's clothes and stuffs them with towels to create a surrogate body for cuddling, his father so emotionally unavailable for even the simplest gestures of physical affection.

Augusten's blind love would soon turn to festering hatred, his wrath nursed by the death of his beloved pets due to his father's lack of compassion as well as his drunken malice. He even begins conjuring fantasies of violence and murder, one in particular where he kicks him off the edge of a high secluded cliff to his death. After a domestic dispute one fateful evening, his brother pulls him from the house in the dead of night and teaches him how to shoot a gun, telling him, "The fact is, you aren't safe in that house anymore. You have to be able to protect yourself because I won't be around."

Burroughs even describes his father's smile as "wrong" and addresses him as "Dead" instead of "Dad", a term that presages the nothingness of John's heart. John Robison's image becomes encompassingly nightmarish, made all the more sinister by the fact that he is not overtly violent; there is instead an unpredictable and calculating enmity that lurks just beneath the surface of his psoriasis-stricken shell. In the end there is no redeeming factor - while John lies emaciated and dying from complications from a past injury, he cannot (or will not) offer even one word to Augusten, utterly resigned to their estrangement. All of this torturous emotion experienced vicariously through Burroughs's story makes for a very bleak and grievous yet intensely absorbing read. It is, without a doubt, one of the best memoirs of 2008.

Bottom line: Burroughs's memoir can read like a work of fiction at times, the author such a great storyteller that one begins to doubt the validity of his accounts. With all the other strangely fascinating memoirs Burroughs has published thus far, his one work of fiction (Sellevision) pales in comparison to the painful complexities of his real life. Judging by what's happened to him so far in his now 43 years and counting, I'm sure there are still a wealth of perversely enthralling true stories he has yet to tell.

After reading positive reviews, I was looking forward to this book. But I wasn't entertained or informed (two things I like in books).

Instead I found a book that moved too slowly, with details that I didn't find relevant or important to the reader such as supermarket expeditions, septic systems installed etc. (obviously to the author they had greater relevance, but I was bored reading them). The story didn't seem to flow very well, and because of this, I found myself skim reading over some paragraphs in order to find something more interesting in the tale.

As memoirs go, its not a great one...........

If you looking for the same acerbic and self-mocking humor that made you enjoy the other Burroughs book DO NOT READ this book. Burroughs includes a handful of humorous jokes in this book, but by and large it is a meditation on the deep-seated hatred he has for his biological father. As he remembers it he never had a real father son relationship with his father. Never played catch with and clearly never got any advice from his father. Augusten is able to paint an almost inhumane picture of the very man that helped spawn him.

The first 100 pages are rather slow and the episodes reveal the common theme that Augusten's father was not ever a father and was more a sociopathic alcoholic than an adult qualified to have children. The second half of the book is written better with more details on the impact his father had on his life. The anecdotes are more telling and Augusten's pain comes through lucidly. One can't help but think Augusten wants the reader to feel sorry for him. The other books, while they are humorous, the anecdotes are depressing and when you think back to his previous books you can't help but think, Augusten's terribly childhood, especially his lack of relationship with his alcoholic father naturally lead him to his own reckless lifestyle.

Thankfully many of the anecdotes in this book are new to paper, but the book is just so depressing.

The saying "a perfect childhood is a waste of time" points to the lack of learning of such an unlikely upbringing: No wonder Augusten has become such an awesome writer!!

Our mind suppresses bad memories, unless we dig deep. Augusten's learning and ability to dig deep (amazing recollection of early childhood) is almost to close for comfort if you have been brought up with similar, ahum, challenges. It ripped me; it pushed all my buttons, made me so angry, so sad, so scared, so alive within my own past. It was a great experience to read, absorb and subsequently move on!!

I hope that other readers "enjoy" the same and BIG Thank you to Augusten for sharing himself so courageously with us!!

Let me preface my remarks by saying that I am a big fan of Augusten Burroughs' other works, and also that I am reviewing the audiobook version of this book. Other reviewers (and the author himself) have noted that this book is a major departure from the style of his other memoirs. Unfortunately, Burroughs' efforts at drama are not nearly as elegant or developed as his efforts at humor.

This book should have been about a boy who overcomes emotional abandonment and neglect to become a healthy whole person. Instead it is an overly wrought melodrama that often hints at a horror that is never actually shown.

Burroughs does an excellent job of creating a world through a child's eyes, with a characteristically immature sense of entitlement, self-importance and drama. As adults, we understand (and remember) such feelings and can relate to the narrator's emotional distress at the small tragedies of childhood: the death of a pet, feeling misunderstood and unloved by parents. The problem with this book is that the author can not seem to decide, in adulthood, which events were true horrors and which were just unfortunate circumstances. This confusion dilutes the potential emotional impact of his story.

The audiobook version is read by the author (as usual), but with extra melodramatic inflection. In case the reader is too dense or emotionally dead to understand, Burroughs intones, wails and gargles through prose that is pretty heavy-handed to start with. Less scenery chewing would have been a lot more effective.

On the other hand, the audiobook version includes original music that is wonderfully evocative. According to an afterward by Burroughs, the songs were written for the book, after the composers had read it. Patti Smith is still tops.

I laughed, I cried, I shuddered! This portrait of the father, after reading some of the other books by AB, continued to amaze me. People are so resiliant. To be able to chronicle this experience in the way he has is such a huge talent. I love AB. He certainly deserved better. I hope he is well.

I love anything Augusten. Running with Scissors is still my favorite book. I think I am the only one disappointed in A Wolf at the Table. I felt throughout the book he was an annoying kid and a whiner to the end. I think I would have had more compassion if he would have covered more of exactly what his father did except ignore him. Obviously there is more to it, I needed to read it, feel it, feel for the guy. I only felt it at the end in the room with the robes, when he realized what a real father's love is.

His suggestions to his brother to kill his father, then to his father to push his mother off the bridge makes me wonder if Augusten is all there himself. I was very disappointed in the book. Although a small thin book it took me a long while to get through it waiting for the impact his other books brought me, this gave me none. I didn't care for it at all.

First let me say, that I am a big fan of Augusten Burroughs. I will also say that I was aware that this book wasn't going to be funny so I had no expectations of that. I also listened to this book on CD, as I did all of his other books. I will also say that I did in fact listen to the entire book including all songs accompanied with it. I would like to tell you that all of those people who gave a poor review were telling the truth. I have a BIG problem with how Burroughs read this book. Whoever told him to read so incredibly slowly should be fired. It distracted from the story and was so slow, you'd forget his point by the time he got to the end of his sentence. It was like he was reading to a very dumb child or someone who has no grasp of the English language. The director of this audiobook, in my opinion, gave him very bad direction. I have always enjoyed listening to him read his books in the past. This was an unwelcome departure. Yes, his father obviously has narcissistic and sadistic tendencies, and I can listen to just about anything, but the animal abuse occurred frequently throughout the story and I truly had severe difficulty listening to it. Burroughs, has valid complaints about his father's parenting skills, but the story is also peppered with accounts that basically make Burroughs look like a whiny brat at the time and a whiny adult now complaining about the most minute details. A lot of the things his father did, with not paying attention to Augusten, or being particularly affectionate, was no different than the average overworked, overstressed father. This is one to skip. Also, by the way, the music was NOT GOOD and added very little. Someone on this site, mentioned the "funeral dirge", that is a great description of one of the songs. Burroughs should stop rehashing his life story. It is soooo done, between him and his brother's writing, enough, please. I encourage Burroughs to try fiction again. I really enjoyed his Sellevision novel. This is definitely one to pass on, at the very least don't listen to his CD between the awful music and his excruciatingly slow reading, there is no chance of enjoying it.

Well he did it. Augusten Burroughs, whose finest trait as an author of narrative nonfiction was almost ridiculous objectivity, finally succumbed to moments of self-pity. But who wouldn't? I wonder if while writing The Wolf at the Table, Burroughs simply had to show that little boy the love he so desperately craved. It's not his best work, true. In my humble opinion, his best is Dry. I am a student of writing and therefore I'm always looking at the effective use of craft and while it's difficult to pinpoint in Burroughs work (other than a knack for witty and snappy turns of phrase) I will say this. His work is difficult to put down. You can't help but turn the page, find out what happened next and how he's going to tell it. And unlike other reviewers, I stopped asking myself if it was plausible early on. Who cares? He may not be literary, he may be embellishing for drama, and he may have caved to the self-involved urges of many memoirists (ironically his major distinction previously) but Burroughs knows how to tell a tale. His readers number in the millions now, but his voice is still that of a friend confiding to a friend. Bravo, Burroughs. Now let's see some fiction.

In past books written by Augusten Burroughs, we read about his dysfunctional childhood. We laughed with him and we cried with him, often wondering how he managed to survive. With A Wolf at the Table, Burroughs explores the relationship between father and son, and the extremes of love and hate. His writing is insightful and honest, not only writing about his relationship with his father, but everyone's need for love and validation. He suffered as a child, but emerged as an adult full of hope and promise.

Having read all of Burroughs' books, I thought I knew what to expect in A Wolf at the Table. Having experienced the trauma, I expected Burroughs to write in a cool, detached manor. He didn't. Burroughs used both humor and suspense to evoke tears, laughter, and horror in his readers.

A Wolf at the Table is a brutally honest story told from a child's point of view. I wanted to cry for the child, but found myself cheering for the man that emerged from the pits of hell relatively unscathed.

I have all of Burroughs' books and was really looking forward to A Wolf at the Table. But this is not just disappointing, it's out right annoying. The narrative is cloying, self pitying, desperate, whiney and not trust worthy. I understand that Burroughs has had a insanely difficult life, but whereas his other books deal with his past in humor and a wry eye, this one is a humorless and over the top retelling.

It feels as if the author had incidents that haven't fit into his other books and in an effort to fill the autobiography, he has padded the pages with intricate details from his (and his father's) very early years. It doesn't seem right to question Burroughs' honesty, but I have a very hard time believing his vivid high chair memories.

In fairness, I haven't been able to finish it yet, but that's because I embarrassed myself while reading it on a plane this weekend. I made a loud guttural sound and sighed "you've got to be freaking kidding me" when reading "We were to have a new septic system. At first I was wary, afraid of the equipment. The bulldozer was like a giant poisonous yellow spider tearing apart the land to lay its eggs."

I think this entire book would have made a very compelling and concise New Yorker article, but as a book...it's just a pathetic read.

"A Wolf at the Table" is the fourth Augusten Burroughs book I've read and I was not disappointed. It is very well written, insightful and heartbreaking. He shares thoughts and feelings few would ever admit. Break out the Kleenex for the last chapter. I suspect most readers will come away with a deeper appreciation of their own fathers, I know I did.

Burroughs is a very good writer. I'm convinced now. A Wolf at the Table is a very good book. However, like many other reviewers, I just don't think it is possible for an infant/toddler's brain to form long-term memories as Burroughs pushes on us in his book. Nor can I believe he can recall all of the minute details he writes of his life even when he is nine to twelve years old. This detail reads well, but is it all truly from memory or is it mostly embellished? Maybe I should give Burroughs a pass, but the history of the author's acknowldeged embellishment of his memoirs makes me doubt many of the larger dramas of this book. Gore Vidal, in his own memoir Palimpsest, gave a personal definition of a memoir: "a memoir is how one remembers one's own life, while an autobiography is history, requiring research, dates, facts double-checked." So, maybe he gets a pass.

Nevertheless, by the end of the book, I drank the Kool-Aid and it was largely due to the emotional--and thankfully, realistic--story at the book's end.

I am a huge Augustin Borroughs fan. I have read everything he has written and loved it. However I was very disappointed with A Wolf at the Table. So much so I only skimmed the last chapter because I just wanted to be done with it. It just was not of the same quality of all his other books. It is a very dark book, which I normally would have enjoyed, but at times it was just slow and boreing. I just didn't feel the emotion I normally feel when reading his stuff. Sorry.... but if you are going to read Borroughs I highly reccomend any of his other books.

I could not put this book down! When I read Running With Scissors I kept wondering what happend to Augusten's father. So I was very excited when I saw this book was about his father. I loved it! I look forward to more books from Augesten Burroughs.

I was his biggest fan. I'm on his fan club e-list. I watched Running with Scissors DESPITE the bad reviews. I made my book club read some of his work. I read, and loved, his brother's book. And then I started the audio version of this book this morning.

First off, he reads the book like the listener is a 4-year-old.

Secondly, the idiotic musical introduction at the beginning was far from necessary. Nor did it add anything to the book.

Thirdly, I think you can only obsess about your family so much. We know he had a horrid childhood and adolescence. Perhaps it's time for him to move on.

Truthfully, I couldn't finish it. Perhaps Augusten Burroughs needs to take a few lessons from David Sedaris or his brother. Surely, he can do better than this.

This "book" was laughable. If it hadn't already been proven in court that Burroughs fabricated portions of his previous memoirs, then this piece of tripe would have done it. Besides the obviously ludicrous "memories" such as recalling the day he took his first steps, how does the author expect that we will believe these stories of his supposedly wretched home life when it can't possibly have happened as he states? Throughout the story he claims to hear his parents calling him by his name, Augusten. He details the way they articulate it, "August-EN" and claims to feel horrid emotions at the way they say his name. Yet his name was Christopher then, since Augusten Burroughs was the name he invented for himself later in life. A false memory.
The author also takes the normal slings and arrows of childhood and exaggerates them to a confounding degree. So his father didn't let him put the snacks he wanted into the grocery cart? Every parent knows that you have to limit what a kid wants to buy at the supermarket or the child will throw every kind of sugary snack in there. This incident is just one of many in which Burroughs takes the most ordinary and trivial of childhood incidents and tries to make them into something sinister.
The whole book was awful and, despite my usual rule to finish a book I have started, about 2/3rds through I just had to end the misery. At least I only took it out from the library and didn't spend my money on this lousy garbage.

Those looking for a Dave Pelzer-worthy nightmare of parental abuse can look elsewhere. Instead, what is most horrifying about Augusten Burroughs' father is what he DIDN'T do. By virtually withholding all love and affection from his younger son, he created a hole that Burroughs in turn tried to fill with improper relationships, alcohol, and drugs.

Burroughs conveys the horror of his childhood with stark vividness, successfully portraying the emotions and desires of the child he was. A pet dog forced to live outside and refused medical care, a guinea pig left without food and water, a son denied even the barest scraps of love, until he is forced to snuggle with a "father" he has created from old clothes sprayed with aftershave.

This is truly a heartbreaking work of staggering genius, gut-wrenching in its honesty.

I disliked this book so much that I didn't even finish it. Mr. Burroughs has clearly run out of material from his own life and seems unable or unwilling to try fiction again. The thing I find most disturbing about this 'memoir' is that I saw Mr. Burroughs at a book reading when Magical Thinking was released and he spoke about his father and how they had reconciled. He also mentioned that he was working on this book at the time and that it had already been optioned to be filmed by a major studio, which was pretty impressive considering the book hadn't even been completed. I wonder how much of his recollection was influenced by the notion that A Wolf at the Table was going to be a movie (although that seems unlikely now, given the critical drubbing the book has received and the poor box office performance of "Running With Scissors.") In fact, during the Q&A, an audience member asked what he thought of "creative nonfiction" writers like David Sadaris (a writer who admits to changing his stories based on audience reactions at readings) and Mr. Burroughs said he had no problem with either the term or concept as long as the book is entertaining. Unfortunately, this book is not.

First,I should disclose that I am a fan of Augusten Burroughs. I even have a desire to meet him someday, perhaps in Northampton,MA, near where I live. I envision lively discussions and comical observations being shared-but I digress....

Having read all of Mr. Burroughs books except for Sellivision, I was eagerly looking forward to this admitted 'change' in tone. I was looking forward to reading a straightforward yet harrowing tale about a difficult father. The cover of the book is menacing enough what with animated, red fork spikes reaching towards some imaginary prey (Augusten?).

I wasn't looking for a laugh, so I'm not disappointed that I didn't laugh out loud every few paragraphs as I did while reading his other books. I am disappointed though. More to the point, I feel deceived. While I'm sure each of the stories presented here started as an authentic memory, the embellishments are just too impossible to swallow.

For one, these memories are supposedly told from the perspective of a child (as young as 1 and 1/2!) but are so impossibly detailed that truth gets jettisoned for the sake of drama: "Sitting in my high chair, I held a saltine cracker up to my eye and peered through the tiny holes, astonished that I could see so much through such small opening...." Really? (And that's just one example).

Here's what happened to me while reading this book: I felt so much here was fabricated for dramatic effect that I went online and googled information about Augusten's father and mother. John Robison (Augusten's father) was an adored professor in the philosophy department at UMASS, Amherst where I have done doctoral work. Margaret Robison, his mom, is still alive and lives in Shelburne Falls,MA where she writes poetry and is working on a memoir herself.

Here's what I also learned: Mr. Burroughs actual name is Chris Robison, even though there are (supposedly) direct quotes in this book where people refer to Chris as Augusten (he didn't change his name until well after the events of this book). This is problematic enough but the fact that 'Augusten' hasn't seen his (sick, stroke-ridden) mother in 8 years so decisively shifts my sympathies to her-and even to his father. There are "memories" here so specific that he would have HAD to have consulted his mom to verify if he had the story straight. But...

It seems, unfortunately, that sobriety (and stability) have left this pseudonymous writer with little material with which to work with except questionable 'memories' of his childhood. Recently, he's resorted to viral marketing via the use of You Tube and a blog and has even promoted his brother's book (about Asperger's Syndrome) in this manner. At some point, the author-as-victim theme grows tired-especially in this case, where most of the memories here are 30+ years old.

Still, I don't begrudge his success and comfortable new life- he is bold to have shared so many potentially embarrassing details of his life.
Whatever his true name, he has certainly paid his dues but the "wolf" at the table was more likely a stressed-out professor dealing with alcoholism, a difficult marriage and poor health. That the wolf didn't pay enough attention to his young son is tragic but I am doubtful, given Burroughs's creative mind, that the neglect morphed into life-threatening scenarios time and again.

In the end you will empathize with him because a hole will always remain in his life where a father's love should reside. This is what's real about this book and Burroughs's life, and always will be (a fact that he has tattooed on his arms lately, to wit: "the scar remains").

are people like Burroughs' father allowed to procreate? This story was so sad, but there were amusing moments. I am amazed that one can come through a childhood like his and still feel such obvious love for his parents (I blame his mother too). It's a tribute to his character that he was able to survive and be successful in his life after the madness he was exposed to. Disturbing as this book was, I have always loved his writing and look forward to his next book.

This book is far darker than "Running with Scissors". Very little humor, dark or otherwise, throughout the entire book, yet still a good analytical read about the relationship (or non-relationship) between one boy and his father. Delves quite well into the childhood perceptions children have of the adult world.

People look at Augusten Burroughs' other books and read this one and comment that its not nearly as entertaining...well, its not supposed to be. Where he is typically funny, displaying his signature sense of humor and wry wit, here he is serious, to the point, and sometimes matter-of-fact about living with his emotionally empty father. He navigates us through his sad childhood, turn by turn, and we get a first-hand look at what life was like for him, his mentally ill mother, and his older brother. If you've read his other memoirs, you already know a good deal of his background story, and with Wolf he fills in a lot of the missing pieces. Whereas Running With Scissors talks about him living with the Finches (his Mother's psychiatrist's family), Wolf details all the time inbetween when he wasn't there. When he was in the company of his Mother and Father. He does not seek pity for the unfortunate and more than often sad circumstances, his accounts do not come off as 'woe is me' in the least... he just tells his story, and although its not easy to read because a lot of its disturbing, you can't help but get sucked in and keep turning the pages. I really liked this memoir because it shows that Burroughs really is a great writer, that he's far more eloquent than given credit for, and that he can write much more than sometimes crude and debaucherous material (as I'd heard him described before...unfairly in my opinion). 'Wolf' is so incredibly human and compassionate... when I got to the end of it, I must have read the last couple pages 3 or 4 times just because they were so real and beautiful. He describes this encounter with an escort that was taking him to a venue to do a reading from one of his books. I love how he has the knack to write exactly how something feels. Like you can not only picture it, but just feel it without trying to. He's really good at verbalizing all those little moments inbetween the static when it comes to human interaction. The stuff we think about but don't say aloud, or can't.

A Wolf At The Table is just as good as any of his other works, if not better. Its on a whole other level. And even though its about a father-son relationship, or lack-thereof, you don't have to be either to really empathize and understand his story. Major kudos to Augusten for sharing so many of his stories and becoming what he has today despite (or perhaps in spite of) them.

This book is far darker than "Running with Scissors". Very little humor, dark or otherwise, throughout the entire book, yet still a good analytical read about the relationship (or non-relationship) between one boy and his father. Delves quite well into the childhood perceptions children have of the adult world.

Unlike many reviewers, this is the first book I have read by Augusten Burroughs and I understand it is a serious departure from his other books (of which I plan to read of course!). I listened to the audiobook read by the author, containing many original songs written by artists at special request by Burroughs, in direct response to reading the book. The music concept was great and Burroughs did an excellent job reading this book; you could feel every scrap of emotion as he recounted some pretty horrible experiences with his biological father.

One thing this book did for me is draw a clear separation between having a flawed or dysfunctional parent versus having a flawed parent who is completely void of attachment or emotion. I could totally relate to the beating of the head against an emotional brick wall and the salivating desire to gain parental approval at almost any cost. Many of us have experienced a parent's disapproval or disappointment, perhaps non-acceptance of a lifestyle choice, but even these things are bearable if there is some sort of underlying love there. But this man did not love his son,(indeed was incapable of loving anyone) and seemed to actually gain pleasure from seeing his son struggle with his rejection and odd, scary behavior. I can completely understand why Burroughs believes this guy is evil - if the examples in the book are accurately described, it is clear the man was heartless; "soulless".

Burroughs got a bum deal in the father department and even though his resulting struggles may have helped him become a stronger, empathetic and creative person (a "soul" survivor), I cannot help but be absolutely enraged and devastated on his behalf. That primary need for nurturing and unconditional love that can only be bestowed by a loving parent leaves a hole in the heart that must be constantly self-tended. The adult Burroughs seems to have come into his own and found some peace. But that foundation that should have been laid solid and strong, packed and finished with love and tenderness by his parents, will always have to be checked for flaws, weaknesses and pitfalls. Burroughs' father neglected his son's soul the way he neglected the deck of his childhood home. Nothing can replace the father he should have had and Burroughs justly mourns this. Ironically, that quality which his father lacked (empathy) is owned by Burroughs in abundance and is exactly what makes this legacy so painful for him, and this book so heartwrenching for the reader. The little kid in me can't help but shriek, "THAT SUCKS AND IT IS SO UNFAIR!!"

So Augusten - here is my message to you: you are okay, you are enough just as you are, you were a good boy and you were a great son and you deserved so much better. Your father missed out on the wonder that is you. :-( Children are a gift given to us for such a short time and we have so much power to screw them up. Let Burroughs book remind us all to cherish our children consciously and raise them with love, understanding, knowledge and grace.

This one gives us some insight on the cruelty that he only hinted at in his previous books. The behavior of his father is so incredibly mean that it could only be pure evil or mental ilness. I still am not sure which. Doesnt matter now. His footprint may not have been on his sons rearends literally but it was figuratively. My only problem with this book that it is fairly short. I really love his writing and cant get enough of it. I like the funnier books better I guess, but really, how funny can a book be when it features a pet killing parent. Bravo Augusten for surviving your childhood!

I just finished reading this book last night and I am still thinking about it. I love Augusten's humorous books but this book will really reach out and grab you. It is a very brutal look at how it would be to be a child raised by a cruel emotionally abusing parent.

For anyone used to Burroughs' quick self-epreciating humor and looking for a laugh, this book is not for you. I had to keep checking the cover to make sure I was reading the right author. In the end, I was thankful for my own father, but a little sorry I read this book.

I don't know how you get through a childhood of such disappointment and uncertainty. I'm just glad you were able to write about it and share your childhood with the public. I really enjoyed reading this book even though the story was so dour. I feel grateful of my childhood when I read this type of memoir.

This is the first book I read by Burroughs, so I think that I had a bit of an advantage on other people who had read his previous work. I tend to stay away from memoirs to begin with. To me they are generally pretty boring and the authors usually end up sounding like either great whiners or petty bores. And some of the details that Burroughs writes about in this book may saddle him with that same tag, but the emotions that he is able to dredge up outshine any confessions that struck me as unnecessary or too one sided. Indeed, that seems to me to be the greatest strength of the book. The emotions are raw and unfiltered to the degree that they are intensely childlike, there is almost no filter of the mature adult. It is all the greedy emotion of the child who just wants the love and affection of their father. It is irrelevant that his father is in constant pain from arthritis and alcoholism. The child in the book only wants love and the precious gift of time from his parents, neither of which he gets. Other reviews have focused on the intenst narcacissim in the book, but isn't that the point? Who isn't completely focused on themselves and their own needs at that age? I thought the book to be a quite authentic look at the needs and wants(despite how selfish they may be) of a young child. Whether the details are true or not is beside the point; the emotions are crystal clear and almost piercing in their clarity. Focusing on what is true and what is not is a con game of the publishers who market this book. They bank on people reading the book for the sheer joy of reading about a train wreck of a family, or squealing in delight when we come to a part that rings false. The details are unimportant. The book is a faithful recreation of a childhood spent isolated and in fear of the people who are supposed to love you the most. Debating whether it's true or not is a waste of time.

Sorry Mr. Burroughs, but when you started describing your memories as a toddler, I knew I'd made a mistake in purchasing this book. I found it to be shallow and contrived and I hate to say this, but I almost felt sorry for your father. What a whiney, dull memoir, that certainly doesn't live up to the hype.

A bummer to read. It doesn't take long to get the point that his father was cruel. It must have been cathartic for the author to write, but it didn't need to be a whole book, especially because we already learned about his violent, psoriasis-encrusted dad in "Running with Scissors."

A bummer to read. It doesn't take long to get the point that his father was cruel and he never, ever received the affection and approval he craved. It must have been cathartic for the author to write, but it didn't need to be a whole book, especially because we learn of his violent, psoriasis-encrusted and alcoholic dad in "Running with Scissors."

Augusten's earlier book "Dry" was witty, also compelling and touching in parts. I liked it much more than "Running with Scissors" as that one seemed to be told from a teen's view point.

A Wolf at the Table once again comes from a kid's perception of his father. This book was boring for me as it's told from a child's view point, with no real adult insight to temper the fantastic situations he describes. It's clear that Augusten's dad would not win any prizes for the "Dad of the year" but there have been other far more abusive father-son relationships than what the author faced. Some children live in constant fear of parental torture and even sexual abuse as reported so often in the news.

At some point this book becomes a slightly self pitying narrative, it seems Augusten is blaming most of his problems as an adult on this failed relationship with his father. Some of the terrifying scenes from the book are dreams Augusten had rather then actual events. It was just his active imagination at play as a child.

His father comes across as a sad, depressed and angry alcoholic from the book, tormented by his own shortcomings. The dark side exists in all of us really, his father seemed to give it more free rein due to his negativity. However, he probably did not mean to torture his kid, rather just shock Augusten out of his "sissyness" since he seemed so susceptible to his father's suggestions.

It would have been a much more meaningful book if Augusten had peppered it with his adult insight into the mind of father. Instead, the book ends up as a self-pitying narrative. We never really get to learn about what really drove his father's dislike of his own son. This book was also devoid of the biting humor of some of the author's other books and it was hard to keep reading on after the first few pages. I somehow plowed through it but it did not leave me with any insight at the end.

This book just made me want to say "Grow up, Augusten. Life can be harsh and not everyone gets the best childhood years." Give us a more insightful and richer book next time.

It seems like the author is running out of good material for memoirs, after a slew of books outlining his life thus far. Maybe, he should now switch to fiction.

I felt everything Augusten felt as I read this book - the fear, the confusion of an innocent child, always just eager for his father's love - and never really understanding WHY he wouldn't receive it ....
brought tears to my eyes as I empathized with Augusten but also out of the FEAR that he felt all the while growing up... he made me feel it too.

I read this book and was very disappointed. I thought "oh, finally someone that had it harder than my family." Boy was I wrong. You don't even have a clue as to what abuse is in this book. Yeah, the father was a dark and mysterious often detached man, but until you walk in the shoes of someone that is truly abused, write something else.

Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs is one of my favorite books and this was a good follow-up. He doesn't talk much about his father in the previous book so it was nice to get more insight. I thought it was a little dry at first but got really good as it went on. The first line in the book tied me in though!

I've read all of his books and this one is boring. I couldn't get past the first few chapters. There is little to no humor in it and it was ponderous and self pitying. His father didn't pay enough attention to him(whose father did?)and blah, blah, blah...

The book didn't make me want to read more. It didn't draw me into the charaters. It was very hard to follow for me.

I'm giving this book three stars primarily on the technical aspect of Burroughs writing. It's extremely well written, evocative, moody, and at times actually scary.For those who are familiar with his other books, this is also uncharacteristically very serious, lacking the many laughs or frankly even chuckles his other books have elicited. My problem with the book is that I kept waiting for the torrent of what I believed, and is actually foreshadowed, of violence at the hands of his father towards Augusten. Some of the incidents that he relays are awful there's no denying it, and there's no way to underestimate the feelings brought on by living with someone who was so clearly an angry alcoholic, but less so the menacing sociopath he would lead you to believe tormented him. The homicidal impulses he believes his father was capable of were merely that; feelings. And as the book progressed it seemed to become less about an abusive parent, whether physical or emotional, and more about a boy becoming a man and finding the way to put to rest the monster that had been created, and accept he might never get the love and validation he was seeking from this wolf he called "Dead".

Augusten Burroughs has written some funny books. Prominent among them is his autobiographical RUNNING WITH SCISSORS, about growing up with an older brother with Asperger Syndrome, a mother with mental illness who retreated from conflict, and a father who was an alcoholic. Burroughs managed to mine that potentially horrific set of circumstances for nuggets of skewed humor. In A WOLF AT THE TABLE, he gives up the struggle to find amusement there and tells it like it was. The result is gripping, depressing and at times truly scary.

The wolf is Burroughs's dad, a man who battled the demons of booze, demons that in the author's skilled treatment often come to terrifying life. The flawed patriarch abused his wife and children, forcing them all to exist within his life-despising mental morass. As a small child who had a right to expect a modicum of love from his parents, Burroughs simply learned to retreat and expect very little from Daddy --- no hugs, almost no touching, no walks, no talks, no kind words. His father, a college professor, sat and drank, demanding utmost quiet while he did so. The second son became an invalid who hid from the world. Incident after incident infused his young spirit with hopes, then dashed them.

One day Burroughs's father took him to the University, to his classroom. The boy, seeing some space on the blackboard, began to scribble. He informed Burroughs with a smile, "That was a bad idea." Burroughs became used to feeling a chill in the air when his father smiled: "there was nothing happy in that smile."

Burroughs begins the memoir with a scene in which he is being hunted by a ravening presence: "if my father caught me, he would cut my neck." The child in his pajamas races, blundering through the woods, trying to elude "the jabbing slash from his flashlight." Nightmare? Or fact? Later, we are told, he sees a telltale pine needle in his father's hair.

As time passes, Burroughs's brother becomes an increasing burden to the family, exhibiting wildly anti-social behavior and only occasionally acting in a sane way to try to help his younger sibling survive the horror. At one point, his method was to teach the boy how to shoot a rifle, telling him, "You have to be able to protect yourself because I won't be around."

So where was the mother in this family drama? Passive, mentally unstable, far too weak to combat her cold, often enraged husband, she was probably unfit to raise children, even in the happiest of circumstances. She married someone who was promising, a rising star among men, who was studying for the ministry. Not long after their wedding, the star fell. The man of God lost his faith, dropped out of his studies and began to worship the seductive satan of alcohol. He later developed psoriatic arthritis, which compounded his misery and his hatred of all things life-affirming and comforting to others. Over the long years of Burroughs's lost childhood, his father became paranoid and his mother the trembling prey for his fits of anger. At best, he was a control freak and she was his cowering lackey.

A few times she ran away, taking her confused son with her. For a little while there would be an unsettled peace, in a motel room, with the only parent who touched him and confided in him. Then she would be taken away, institutionalized, and return home in a zombie state, all the heavy tranquilizers still unable to suppress her need to scream occasionally. The deaths of two family dogs underscore the evil that roamed the house. One was ignored when it was clearly sick, and despite Burroughs's childish alerts, it died without succor. The other was finally put out of its misery after it turned savagely aggressive.

More than once, from an early age, Burroughs had fantasies of killing his father. But he could not, he realized, because his father hadn't whipped and tortured him --- "all he was guilty of was not wanting me."

No matter how "normal" one's childhood, there are moments when a child simply cannot comprehend the actions and thoughts that emanate from the grownup realm. Mistakes are made in the "best" of homes. This book chronicles one long, depressing, harrowing series of life-ruining mistakes. That its author pulled through is a small miracle of resilience. Burroughs sets up no signposts along this perilous route. He simply re-walks his childhood path, every harrowing step of the way, and we walk a few steps behind, putting our feet, often reluctantly, in his small footsteps.

A WOLF AT THE TABLE is being hailed as a masterpiece created by a remarkable talent, and all the praise is fully deserved. Though a difficult read, you will find something of yourself in it.

--- Reviewed by Barbara Bamberger Scott

I do not believe that this book is a memoir. If this book is a memoir then he and James Fray should get together and compare notes. If you do not understand you need only to read the first chapter and see that their is NO WAY possible that this man remembers so vividly at 1 1/2 years old the details he has written. This book is an embellishment about his life. I believe as many other reviews that after reading this book I question the authors honesty. I did before everyone blast me enjoy Running with Scissors very much. It was a great read it however is not a memoir. There are many people in this world that grow up in disfunctional families and do not make it their goal to profit off it.

this book was really good. showed the life of a boy and his relationship with his father. amazing how a parent can mess up a childs life and the child becomes an adult and the feelings never go away from chuldhood.

I have read all of Mr. Burroughs previous books and have enjoyed all of them, with the exception of the ridiculous Running with Scissors. A Wolf at the Table is a real departure for Burroughs and it is executed with moments of sheer brilliance. The most powerful strategy he employs in this text is his use of his childhood perspective. His phrasing and consistent childhood point of view keeps the reader edgy and reminds us of our own fears and insecurities as children. The world looks so very different from this side of adulthood. There were numerous moments where his style and insight was so precise that I had to remind myself that he was looking back on these issues, not writing them at the time they happened. Truly, that is a skill.
The epilogue of this book where Burroughs feels (but does not experience) the real intense love that a father can have for a son overpowers the reader almost as much as it overpowered him at the time he experienced it.
There is no neat resolution. One ends this memoir feeling that Burroughs has no good use for his father's memory. One cannot blame him if he doesn't. However, the book is not a nihilistic work, but a plea. If anything the perceptive reader will put this text down feeling a deep sense of responsibility. We all have obligations to those we love, and those who love us. After finishing A Wolf at the Table, I hope that I always meet them.

While his was definately a disfunctional family - I found Augusten to be a bit too whiney and overly dramatic. Wouldn't recommend the book at least in audio form where his deliverly left me unsympathic - just annoyed. I did however enjoy some of the music.

It started slow but i'm glad I didn't give up on it, because it really grabbed about 1/3rd of the way in.