A sunny, funny reminiscence by the father of The Exorcist who came by the materials of that book naturally from his mother, an invincible woman from beginning to end (perhaps not the right word -- she still seems to be around). Mama came from Lebanon via Ellis Island in 1921 while Papa was making six dollars a week; you can just see her in her middy skirt and blouse, selling jelly to pick up a little money, resisting landlords all over lower Manhattan and Brooklyn (they lived at 28 different addresses in ten years). Sometimes they traveled further -- chasing a runaway brother. Mama believed in prayers and dreams and had her own ""juice with the Almighty""; she disliked all gypsies -- they would include Blatty's two wives and after her death (a nice sequence -- Blatty's last visit with her) there would be all kinds of unexplainable phenomena -- the medal just like hers which turned up in a sauna; his daughter's hallucination; his ex-wife's dream that he was using the planchette, just as he was, when words like ""nervy"" and ""tut"" wrote themselves. And birds on a shelf began to sing? Blatty was never the best writer in the world but there's no mistaking the genuine affection and admiration which resides here. It will be read -- no doubt widely -- with an open mind and heart.