JELL-O Girls: A Family History

This heartfelt and intelligent book offers something for everyone. It’s a concise, researched history of the evolution of a classic dessert, and of the American kitchens and families that have served it since its advent at the turn of the twentieth century. It’s a biography of the author’s mother and grandmother, heiresses of the Jell-O fortune whose wealth and privilege could not save them from—and may in fact have contributed to—illness, substance abuse, psychological distress, and early death. It’s a compelling story that reads like a novel, rich in scenes, dialogue, and complex character interiority. And it’s an honest and intimate personal memoir. In graceful prose and with great attentiveness to physical detail, Rowbottom draws on her late mother’s writings to bring her story alive in vivid color: “I return to my mother’s body, her voice, through the hundreds of pages she left for me, the story I consult now like a spell book, searching its pages for incantations I might hold up against the silence she left behind.” Jell-O Girls is, above all, a moving tribute to the author’s mother, Mary, a woman whose life and trauma have much to teach us about the challenges of being female and embodied in a patriarchal world.

From the mixed reviews you’ll likely note that this book has flaws and frankly there were times I was tempted to abandon it. The author is one of a line of heirs to the jello fortune and she weaves jello’s history with her family history. Part of what makes this book hard to read is the very detailed account of her mother’s struggle with cancer. Lore is that the Jello heirs are cursed, and that bears out in traumas, early deaths and mental illness. I found the author’s commentary on her theory of the cause — the silencing of women’s voices — quite interesting. This included observations about a form of modern day hysteria that hit Jello’s hometown of Le Roy. The book reminds me in some ways of Girl Interrupted, but that is much briefer and more readable. A more thorough edit with fewer of the details of her mom’s illness would have helped to boost my rating. I would recommend this, but know that it’s a family history and a downer at that. I’m going with a 4 but more of a 3.5.

This is, at rare times, a compelling read, however, the author’s desire to tell three separate stories - her complex family history, the historical context and relevancy of Jell-O, and the story of the Leroy girls - falls short on all three fronts. Which is too bad. I really wanted to like this book, but felt it never found a focus.The family sections are disjointed and difficult to follow - a few times jolting, and the story of the girls is more of an ongoing side note than a part of the whole I was expecting. Oddly, the bits about Jell-o were the most satisfying and could surely have provided a solid spine for the other bite, but that never materialized.

Beautiful, brave and poignant memoir. I read the entire work in a single sitting. I was riveted and heartbroken by the patriarchal parameters that suppressed the women of Rowbottom's maternal line, but uplifted by the positive, if gradual change that occurred over the generations (interwoven with and mirrored by Jell-O's marketing and how the company depicted women and the work of meal preparation over the decades.) The author releases her mother and grandmother -women with stories they burned to tell- from their oppressive silence, by sharing the truth of their lives. There is much devoted to the physicality of these three women -how they feel in their bodies and how they relate to their bodies in space, as measures of success or self-worth in a patriarchal society. Much is devoted also to the verbal and emotional expression of women's truths -and how the body can suffer when societal norms make it taboo. This book is a triumph. I definitely plan to re-read!

There are some touching moments in this book; however, most of it was boring and/or difficult to follow. While reading, I often realized my mind was wandering, and I had to reread pages over and over again. I thought about quitting, but I always finish a book once I've started.