My mom is always sending me 'depressing' books about wives who murder their husbands, homeless Irish gypsies, Australian orphans and the like. For the most part, I make it through the first three chapters before I'm so bummed out I have to give up on the book and go hug my kids. "Other People's Houses" is entirely different creature. The author allows herself to write about each experience as the child she was, instead of the adult she is. Even in the rockiest situations, there's a feeling of levity, if not pure humor, that Segal holds on to. Highly recommended, even for those who are not 'fans' of Holocaust memoirs.
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