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Sometimes cliches come true. I simply couldn't put this book down. I had laundry to put away, chores to do, and kept saying "Just one more chapter."I'm slightly internet acquainted with the author, so when the book came out I bought it here, to support someone I "know" -- an interesting and increasing phenomenon -- and then let it sit on the shelf for several weeks. Yesterday afternoon I picked it up as I was cleaning the house, and read the first chapter.And was riveted. Brown's eye for detail, her use of language, her humor and candour make this a pleasurable read. The circumstances she describes make it gripping. I'd cruise along, snickering at the eccentricity of the people around her, and then be stopped in my tracks, sometimes by horror at the things she and the children around her endured at school, and sometimes by the beauty she managed to find in a distinctly un-beautiful landscape.What struck me in retrospect, after reading comments here and elswhere on the net, was something I didn't really recognize as I read it, though it was in front of my eyes. Brown doesn't ridicule the people who surrounded her at the ashram, she views them with the ruthless logic of a child, and all the while looks at the adults around her with the unspoken question "Don't you people see that this is seriously screwy? Is it just me?" The question is there in the book -- Brown was clear from the start that she got that things were skewed and that the adults didn't get it -- but I didn't recognize the voice and mindset of that questioning until I thought back. Brown was a rational seven year old set down in a completely irrational situation. That she was able, twenty or so years later, to write about it with humor as well as horror is a testament to her resilience.This is an unforgettable read. Highly, highly recommended.