THEY HAVE JESUS, WE HAVE LASAGNA

A debut memoir offers stories about a boisterous Roman Catholic family.

Resetar’s book concentrates on his upbringing in a crowded duplex in Kingston, Pennsylvania, with his parents, brother, and three sisters, recollecting their spirited family life. “While my mother readied the Sunday meal for her family of seven,” the author writes, “the rest of us were occupied trying to secure the seats we thought we deserved, nearly tearing each other’s eyes out in the process.” Resetar writes about his blend of Italian, Irish, Dutch, Native American, Polish, and Slovakian heritage. He recounts how he and his siblings were raised “with a mix of mostly Catholic ideals combined with occasional Polish Orthodox traditions,” giving rise to a kind of crazy-quilt assortment of familial and religious influences. “I’d like to say that the religious efforts of my grandparents weren’t lost on us,” he writes, “but my family found God only in those rarest of moments when we needed someone struck by a bolt of lightning.” The author relates dozens of vignettes from his childhood and young adult years, telling tales about the generational family feuds that shaped his early years, how baseball was his first love, and how the racetrack was his second home. Resetar livens up every story and anecdote with dialogue and humor, even when he’s writing about serious subjects like his father’s alcoholism. The entertaining book’s prevailing impression is that of chaos recalled with warm affection. The most memorable character is the author’s mother, who was always ready with a sarcastic comeback. “You know, Jesus probably played around when he was a kid,” Resetar’s brother told her at one point. “None of you are the son of God,” she replied. “If you were, you might be allowed to.” This combination of drama and pathos turns the work into an effective modern family story.

A vivid and enjoyable account about growing up in Pennsylvania.