Prepare yourself for sorrow and stark reality in You Don’t Look like Anyone I Know. Illness propels this memoir, but the author’s self-discovery of her face blindness and demands that her neurologist properly diagnose her far outweighed any disquietude experienced by this reader. Coping with face blindness, the inability to recognize faces reliably seemed to me a secondary theme of this incredible memoir. Ms. Sellers’ real triumph was surviving the war zone created by the illnesses of her parents. Her mother’s paranoid tendencies, magnified by her protective instincts toward her children, were bizarre. Desperately desirous but fearful of seeing her father, Sellers manages to come to grips with his philandering and cross-dressing. In her book trailer, Ms. Sellers explains that prosopagnosia is a memory not a visual problem. She writes charitably and honestly about the family that branded her the crazy one. I didn’t mind that her writing lacked cohesion at times. I thought it accurately reflected the chaos of her childhood. She manages to keep enough distance between herself and her story that I saw no self-pity. Rather she spoke graciously of her parents. At the end of her memoir she states that “deeply flawed love and deeply flawed vision can coexist.” Reviewing a disturbing book is difficult. Many other reviewers have complained about yet another “disturbing childhood/dysfunctional family memoir.” I agree many of those exist, but I submit that a book review is just that—a comment on the world the author has painted, not a woe-is-me about the reviewer’s reading history. Despite the title, I found this memoir less about face blindness and more about the strength Ms. Sellers gleaned from her survival and her courage to trust her own perceptions. For a comfortable, relaxing read, find a romance novel. To unearth hard-hitting reality, sink your teeth into You Don’t Look Like Anyone I Know.
Causes Holly Weiss Supports
Eradicate Polio Now