Beautiful Boy: A Father's Journey through His Son's Addiction by David Sheff

The Barnes & Noble Review

"Private faces in public places / are wiser and nicer than public faces in private places," W.
H. Auden famously noted. We live in a public age, alas, in which our "portal" to a fellow creature's suffering is as accessible as a YouTube keystroke. And yet the exchange between public and private remains uneasy despite that accessibility, as David Sheff's book poignantly makes clear.

Swept away into a sea of incomprehension, pain, and unresolved anger by the descent of his beloved son, Nic, into methamphetamine addiction, veteran journalist and author Sheff does his best to combine an honest account of the pain he suffered as a parent with less personal reporting that investigates the larger dimensions of the problem and its potential treatments. But there's a disconnect between Sheff's first-person experience as a parent -- dealing with the free-fall of his oldest son into addiction, rehab, relapse, more rehab, and possible redemption -- and his attempt to come at the subject as a reporter, researching the ways in which speed kills. Any parent will find it impossible not to sympathize with Sheff's dilemma, yet readers may find the dual perspective puzzling.

Sheff quotes F. Scott Fitzgerald on alcoholics: "It's just that you can't help them, and it's all so discouraging." But another Fitzgerald quote, from The Great Gatsby, comes to mind: "The intimate revelations of young men, or at least the terms in which they express them, are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions." It's not that Sheff is dishonest, exactly, but his book illustrates the perils of the memoir form: the bastard child of literature, journalism, and autobiography requires a masterful touch, like that exhibited in Joan Didion's chronicle of widowhood, The Year of Magical Thinking, to transcend its narcissistic limitations.

The narrative of Nic's journey from casual teenage drug abuser to hard-core addict, occasional thief, and experienced con man is the harrowing heart of this story. To his credit, Sheff never gives up on his son, even after several interventions fail and his own health suffers. To his credit again, Sheff tries to narrate his son's misadventures, and the ensuing pain caused to all parties, with scrupulous accuracy.

But what's missing is a larger element of psychological truth. Apart from a few throwaway mea culpas, Sheff seems in some ways remarkably clueless about the ways in which his own behavior -- including a short-lived affair with one of his ex-wife's best friends and a series of casual flings with young ladies whom he brought home, to his son's bafflement, after winning a bitter battle for primary custody -- may have contributed to Nic's problems. Then again, Nic's troubles may have been only the accidental byproduct of affluent suburban life or an unlucky roll of the genetic dice. Sheff admits he doesn't really know the answers. But that begs the question of why he wrote a first-person book with his son's life, and near death, at its core. Is it meant to be self-help literature, as the appendix listing "Resources" from Al-Anon to the National Institute of Drug Abuse, suggests? Or perhaps an exercise in public therapy, sweetened by a book advance, after an early version of the tale appeared in The New York Times Magazine?

If so, it seems inherently immature, a covert form of competition with his son, who thankfully survived his ordeal and has even written his own memoir: Tweak: Growing Up on Methamphetamine. It begins with a Holden Caulfield–esque cadenza: "I'd heard rumors about what happened to Lauren. I mean, I never even knew her that well but we'd sort of hung out a few times in high school.... She had moved to San Francisco when I was a senior and we met somehow -- at a party or something. Back in high school it was just pot, maybe I'd do some acid and mushrooms on the weekend." The voice is clean, even if the body is damaged.

Despite the reader's acknowledgement of David Sheff's pain and the educational and therapeutic intentions his book in places demonstrates, one wishes he had left this "material" for his son to deal with as he saw fit. Sometimes private places should remain just that. --Paul Wilner

A member of the National Book Critics Circle, Paul Wilner is a contributor to the San Francisco Chronicle and Los Angeles Times book review sections, the online magazine obit-mag.com, Publishers Weekly and the New York Times "Arts and Leisure" section, among other publications.

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To Sheff, the early signs of his son's troubles were subtle: a small amount of marijuana found in his backpack, a somewhat surly attitude, apathetic new friends. Worrisome, to be sure, but also easily excused by a parent who'd dabbled in drugs in his own adolescence. Yet by the time he was in eighth grade, Sheff's son, Nic, had already begun a hellish descent that would lead to a full-blown meth addiction. And as Sheff ably shows in his new memoir, it's a hell big enough to house those who love him as well.

In Beautiful Boy, Sheff captures the dashed hopes and repeated despair of parenting an all-but-lost addict. He explores rehab programs and consults professionals, often coming away with contradictory advice or recommendations bordering on the hopeless. He panics when Nic disappears for days on end. And he realizes that his consuming worry is compromising his relationships with his wife and two younger children.

A tireless researcher, Sheff also provides information about manufacturing "meth" and describes the various philosophies and approaches of the top rehab facilities. Perhaps most compelling is Sheff's merciless self-examination. While he admits mistakes, we ultimately realize that Nic's upbringing was not particularly unusual -- which leads to the terrifying thought that Sheff's story could one day be our own. (Summer 2008 Selection)

From the Publisher

What had happened to my beautiful boy? To our family?What did I do wrong? Those are the wrenching questions that haunted every moment of David Sheff ’s journey through his son Nic’s addiction to drugs and tentative steps toward recovery. Before Nic Sheff became addicted to crystal meth, he was a charming boy, joyous and funny, a varsity athlete and honor student adored by his two younger siblings. After meth, he was a trembling wraith who lied, stole, and lived on the streets.David Sheff traces the first subtle warning signs: the denial, the 3 A.M. phone calls (is it Nic? the police? the hospital?), the rehabs.His preoccupation with Nic became an addiction in itself, and the obsessive worry and stress took a tremendous toll. But as a journalist, he instinctively researched every avenue of treatment that might save his son and refused to give up on Nic.
Beautiful Boy is a fiercely candid memoir that brings immediacy to the emotional rollercoaster of loving a child who seems beyond help.

The Washington Post - Juliet Wittman

David describes his family's ordeal with a lucidity that will undoubtedly help many addicts and their families, providing not only a wealth of factual data but also the steadying assurance that they are not alone in their grief. He eloquently describes the sense of isolation and horror that accompanied his realization of what was happening to Nic, and the help David found in support groups.

Publishers Weekly

Sheff's memoir offers his side of the story about his son Nic's downfall into drug and alcohol abuse. Anthony Heald opts for a slightly theatrical performance, which distances the listener from what should be an extremely personal and emotional tale. While never over-the-top, Heald's reading is more grounded in the world of fiction than nonfiction. His vocal interpretations of characters are improbable and the dialogue comes off as unrealistic. A touching story gets lost in translation from word to mouth. A Houghton Mifflin hardcover (Reviews, Apr. 30, 2007). (Apr.)

Kirkus Reviews

"I'll be fine. I've stopped using." That lie is told again and again in this memoir of a father's heartbreaking struggle with his son's addiction to methamphetamines. The clearly charming and talented Nic first tried marijuana in high school and subsequently went through a decade of using, rehabilitation and relapse. Expanding on a 2005 article in the New York Times Magazine, journalist Sheff (China Dawn, 2002, etc.) takes readers along on the grim roller-coaster ride. While on drugs, Nic leads a life of self-destruction, deception and crime. He breaks into the family home to steal money; he lies about where he is and what he is doing; he asks for help but refuses the terms on which it is offered. The effect on Sheff's family is devastating; trying to save his son and also protect his wife (not Nic's mother) and their two young children, the author suffers a near-fatal brain hemorrhage. He applies his research skills to learn everything possible about methamphetamine, what it does to the brain and what treatments are available. The hard truth is that no one really knows what works best in dealing with meth addiction, or even what doesn't work. He didn't cause Nic's addiction, Sheff comes to understand; he can't control it and he can't cure it. Eventually shifting his focus from Nic's recovery to his own, the author goes into therapy to get past his obsession with his son's problems. Whether Nic will recover remains an open question at the book's end, which offers a glimmer of hope, but no promises and no easy answers. A clear picture of what meth addiction does to a user and those who love him that may help other families better cope with this growing problem.

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