Alexandra Fuller tells the story of her childhood in Southeastern Africa with compelling intensity. The child of expat British parents, she grew up feeling entitled to call herself African (or Rhodesian, as it was). Fuller makes no apologies for her family or their attitudes. The Fullers are unabashed colonialists whose views, however they might be seen now, were commonly held by their peers just fifty or sixty years ago. It's easy to be horrified by the casual racism, but I think Fuller has set herself the more difficult and braver task of exploring their attitudes and not trying to hide or soften them. In fact, Fuller doesn't shy away from anything. Her parents' alcoholism, her mother's depression, and other family tragedies: she explores them all with a clear-eyed, fierce love for her family and their home.