This is a Autobiography,
one night when Signe Hammer was nine years old, her mother tucked her into bed, hugged her long and hard, and then went downstairs to the kitchen, where she lay down before the oven, turned on the gas and calmly waited to die. This powerful and sometimes harrowing book is an inquiry into the mystery of Agnes Hammer's death. It is also an account of suicide's effect on it's survivors.
It's difficult to dislike a memoir of this nature ... but I was expecting ... ... more. Based on the synopsis, I had thought a decent part of the book would have dealt with how her mother's suicide affected her into adulthood ... Instead, she spent roughly half of the book telling us about three - yes - 3 - generations of her family tree on both sides, which was elucidating, but not why I wanted to read the book. Any incite I had hoped to acquire was not found.