Maud Newton, the author of Ancestor Trouble, is the product of two people who decided to get married because, her father said, they would have smart children together. Newton’s mother and father contributed more than DNA; they also brought their prejudices, mental illnesses, and other potentially damaging factors into their parenting. This memoir dives headfirst into the question of how our parents shaped us, how their parents shaped them, and on back through the centuries using genealogical and historical research, DNA ancestry testing, and family stories.
Newton’s father was a racist intent on running a small family eugenic project. The lengths he would go to to impress his hatreds onto his children are astounding. Not only were Newton and her sister not allowed to watch Sesame Street (the cast represented multiple ethnicities) but he would use nail polish to paint over characters with anything other than white skin. Newton’s mother was a cold woman, preoccupied with creating her own religious movement in the family living room. When Newton and her sister conformed to their parents’ expectations, they were shown love. If they misbehaved—or if their parents’ attention wandered to another project—they were lectured and neglected. This may sound bleak (it is, at times) but Newton turns her questions and trauma into a fascinating exploration of ancestry.
Passages in which Newton shares family stories (a man who was married thirteen times, a woman who was incarcerated in an institution after dancing nude in the streets, a murderer) are interspersed with investigations into how different cultures remember and honor their dead, the personal DNA ancestry industry, the weight of past crimes such as slavery, and the much more. She also points out the impossibility of fully capturing a family’s story through time due to lack of documentation, relatives carrying secrets to the grave, and migration. As I read this book, I recalled the years my dad and various relatives spent tracing my family’s assortment of mechanics, farmers, grocers, and so on. Even though most of my ancestors tended to stay put (with some notable exceptions when they decided to emigrate or join the military), the family genealogists regularly hit dead ends due to language barriers, destruction of documents in wars, and a pure lack of record keeping. I very much enjoyed Newton’s sleuthing as she tracked down the truth behind old family legends and felt for her when she uncovered secrets long buried by relatives. Like Newton, I recall the wonder I felt when someone in the family found a new trace of our family’s passage through history. In fact, I felt that same jolt when I learned that my many times great-grandfather, Carl Gottleib Latsch, was a shoemaker while I was poking around online to find a picture of his grave.
What I admired most about Ancestor Trouble was Newton’s long journey to make peace with the generational trauma she inherited. Like my own family, there is a long streak of mental illness to be reckoned with. After years of research and surprisingly uninformative DNA ancestry results, Newton turns to something a bit more spiritual to reach out into her epigenetic past to find ancestors who can guide her forward in life. She sorts the wholesome from the bigoted and corrupted parts of her family and their history. I found her ability to sort the good from the bad profoundly remarkable. I can only hope that someday I find that kind of strength and wisdom.
I highly recommend this book to readers fascinated by the winding paths of family history research or to those who carry their own generational trauma.