Too Many Mothers by Roberta Taylor

Some years back, I read Roberta Taylor’s autobiographical novel, Too Many Mothers and loved it. Painting a realistic picture of growing up in London’s East End during the latter part of the twentieth century, the book is  an unbelievable collection of images thrown at the reader from all angles. The picture is often devastating and extremely sad; however, lurking at the edges, there are always rays of light and humour. This is not a book that can fit neatly into the accepted mould of beginning, middle and resolution, because Roberta Taylor’s early life was anything but ordered and neat. Instead, the book piles images into untidy towers of varying heights where the reader can rummage at his/her will, perhaps laughing at the antics of one of Roberta’s aunts or weeping over a situation from which there seems to be no escape. A wonderful book – I definitely recommend it to other readers.