James Carroll was raised in Washington, D.C., and ordained to the Catholic priesthood in 1969. He served as a chaplain at Boston University from 1969 to 1974, then left the priesthood to become a writer. A distinguished scholar-
in-residence at Suffolk University, he is a columnist for the Boston Globe and a
regular contributor to the Daily Beast.
His critically admired books include Practicing Catholic, the National Book Award-winning An American Requiem, House of War, which won the first PEN/Galbraith Award, and the New York Times bestseller Constantine's Sword, now an acclaimed documentary.
"Autobiography at its best." -- Publishers Weekly
"A tragic, moving book about a family torn apart by the Vietnam War, a young man looking for God, a writer finding his voice." -- Boston Magazine
"I cannot recall being more touched by a book about a real family since John Gunther's Death Be Not Proud." -- The Washington Post
"A flawlessly executed memoir." -- National Book Award citation
"A work of the heart. . . . perhaps the most moving drama of fathers and sons that I have ever read."
-- Washington Post Book World
"A magnificent portrayal of two noble men who broke each other's hearts." -- Booklist
"A personal and political memoir in a class by itself. Rich in ideas and historical detail, a personal story that makes you think - about politics, parents, children and God." -- USA Weekend
"One of those books that even as you are reading it, you know you will never forget. James Carroll is well recognized as a master storyteller. In this, his own story, he touches us as only a gifted writer can, and more so because it is true." -- David McCullough
"Of all the memoirists who have set out to 'tell the truth' of a life and a crucial relationship, very few have ever succeeded so convincingly as James Carroll, in this poetic and achingly honest account of his lifelong struggle with his father to find a basis for mutual respect and love, an effort finally foundering on the Vietnam War. It is the story, never told better, of a generational faultline splitting households all across America. I couldn't put it down till its last, haunting sentence." -- Daniel Ellsberg