Carolyn's Reviews > The Many Lives of Mama Love: A Memoir of Lying, Stealing, Writing, and Healing

“No villain ever thinks of herself as a villain, and certainly in the story I told about my life I was always the good guy.”

So writes Hardin, early on in the memoir, and it could be the tagline for the entire book. Her memoir reads like an attempt to recast herself as the hero rather than the bad guy. I suppose that’s the prerogative of anyone writing memoir, and it’s then up to the reader to decide how much credence to lend the writer’s tale.

The thing is, I had trouble accepting Hardin’s portrayal of herself as the down-on-her-luck, yet compassionate and forgiving “Mama Love” (a title bestowed on her by her fellow inmates). Part of the reason may have been the writing style- the memoir reads almost more like sensational fiction at times, particularly at the beginning when she is recounting her arrest and drug use. Beyond that though, I was often left with the feeling that she was cherry-picking the bits of the story she wanted the reader to know, while omitting other crucial details. For example, Hardin refers frequently to trauma in her past, early loss and neglect by her family, crediting it for many of her issues as an adult, yet she never goes into any sort of detail, a gap which feels almost manipulative: Bad things happened to me as a child, so feel sorry for me, and don’t ask me any questions about it!

Equally telling are all the pieces of herself she shows- Hardin spends a good chunk of the book emphasizing how much she misses her sons, particularly her four-year-old. While it’s unquestionably true, it’s also heavy-handed, and comes across like more emotional blackmail: Root for me, because a child’s safety depends on it!

(A little side note here: Hardin must highlight a dozen times in this book that she and her son are blond. Why is this important? Why does she need to keep reiterating it? So that we'll pity and root for the poor, white, blond lady and her blond, blue-eyed son?)

The Hardin of the story is therefore portrayed as a doting, determined mother, both to her sons and everyone else in the cell block (though this is another place where she’s light on the detail- we're told rather than shown what a positive impact she has on everyone around her). Arrayed against her is an unfair system determined to see her fail. As the story revolves pretty narrowly round the author’s personal experiences however, don’t expect an in-depth exploration of the inequalities of the US justice system, or its for-profit prison system. Any mention of this throughout the book is always framed as a complaint about her personal suffering.

She also casts a number of her personal acquaintances in the role of villain. The D.A. and his wife want her in jail! (This is supposedly due to a personal vendetta, i.e. the fact that she slept with the D.A. many years ago, and can in no way be related to the many felonies she's committed). Her ex-husband’s wife is out to destroy her! (Yet another jealous spouse, this one apparently hates Hardin because she's childless). Her current husband introduced her to heroin, thus bringing about her downfall! (Never mind that he is still an addict- Hardin is allowed grace for the bad decisions she makes under the influence, but someone else still needs to take the blame in this story.)

Clearly, to look at other reviews, my opinion is in the minority. The book is reasonably well-written, has some moderate entertainment value, and a whole lot of platitudes. So if you’re looking for a feel-good tale about a mom working hard to win back her kids, go right ahead and pick this up. If you want a memoir with more substance and style, one where the author isn't blatantly seeking praise and validation, try something like The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls or Dreams of My Father by Barack Obama.