Anthropology of an American Girl - Hardcover

"Remember what it feels like to be seventeen? Eveline Auerbach sounds like somebody many of us knew--or were. . . . A realistic, resonant, and universal story."--"O: The Oprah Magazine
"
"As vast and ambitious as the country itself."--Carolyn See, " The Washington Post
""If publishers could figure out a way to turn crack into a book, it'd read a lot like ["Anthropology of an American Girl"]. Hamann's debut traces the sensual, passionate, and lonely interior of a young woman artist growing up in windswept East Hampton at the end of the 1970s. . . . A marvelously complex and tragic figure of disconnection, startlingly real and exposed at all times."--"Publishers Weekly" (starred review)
"[A] page-turning read [that] rivets through a rawness of complex emotion . . . Like Jane Austin, George Eliot or Edith Wharton, [Hamann] critiques her era and culture through the tale of a precocious young woman buffeted by the accidents, values and consequences of her age."--"Providence Journal-Bulletin
"
"Utterly original . . . a rare kind of novel--at once sprawling and intimate--whose excellence matches its grand ambition."--"The Dallas Morning News
"
"[A] serious descendant of the work of D. H. Lawrence."--"The Washington Post
"

Remember what it feels like to be seventeen? Eveline Auerbach sounds like somebody many of us knew or were. . . . A realistic, resonant, and universal story. "O: The Oprah Magazine
"
As vast and ambitious as the country itself. Carolyn See, " The Washington Post
" If publishers could figure out a way to turn crack into a book, it d read a lot like ["Anthropology of an American Girl"]. Hamann s debut traces the sensual, passionate, and lonely interior of a young woman artist growing up in windswept East Hampton at the end of the 1970s. . . . A marvelously complex and tragic figure of disconnection, startlingly real and exposed at all times. "Publishers Weekly" (starred review)
[A] page-turning read [that] rivets through a rawness of complex emotion . . . Like Jane Austin, George Eliot or Edith Wharton, [Hamann] critiques her era and culture through the tale of a precocious young woman buffeted by the accidents, values and consequences of her age. "Providence Journal-Bulletin
"
Utterly original . . . a rare kind of novel at once sprawling and intimate whose excellence matches its grand ambition. "The Dallas Morning News
"
[A] serious descendant of the work of D. H. Lawrence. "The Washington Post
""

"Remember what it feels like to be seventeen? Eveline Auerbach sounds like somebody many of us knew--or were. . . . A realistic, resonant, and universal story."--O: The Oprah Magazine

"As vast and ambitious as the country itself."--Carolyn See, The Washington Post

To me, the difference between an autobiography and an anthropology is the difference between the story of one and the story of many. It’s not as though I feel I do or should speak for every woman, so much as I feel I would be proud to do so. I hope that the character of Eveline is true and open and that readers can connect with her regardless of potential differences. I tried to talk about a place we all share, rich with experiences we’ve all had. Even if you can’t say that most girls have had a rape or an abortion or a broken heart, you can say that most have at one time or another lost their ability to speak for themselves, most have searched for the meaning of love and home. The novel attempts to convey a way of being that is outside of stereotype, kind of like a gentleness of approach to information and ideas. I hope that through Eveline’s eyes, the ways through hard decisions become clear.

Is it a memoir?

It’s the work of my imagination. It’s not really fair to go through the book and say, well, this is more real and that is less real, when, often in life, the things that are most real are simply the ones we choose to invest in.

What do you hope people will learn?

I really hope people will just appreciate being alive. I want older people to be sensitized to ways they’ve abandoned or forgotten and younger people to cling to the beautiful newness of experience. I’m a little tired of books about sickness, murder and death. I think that identifying with experiences that are tragic secretly make us feel as though we are not ordinary. But for most of us, it’s all there is—the ordinary. And it’s what we bring to the every day—our level of interest, engagement, and humanity—that separates us from the rest.