The Undertaker's Daughter

In 1959, when Kate Mayfield was in kindergarten, her family moved to Jubilee, Kentucky so that her parents could open their own funeral home. In this memoir, Kate revisits the first 20 or so years of her life, much of it spent in the three storey house which was both a family home (upstairs) and a funeral home (on the ground floor). She and her three siblings had to remain very quiet and out of sight whenever a service was taking place.

‘I can still never hear a phone ring without thinking that someone, somewhere, has died.’

The embalming room may have been out of bounds, but Kate learned a lot about the respectful processes involved for taking care of the dead, and I found those aspects of her memoir interesting to read.

‘I wondered why my father chose to wake up every morning to take care of dead people. But I never asked, for as the years passed, I could imagine him doing nothing else.’

But this memoir is also about life in a small and segregated Kentucky town. How there were different funeral homes depending on the colour of your skin, and how desegregation was resisted by some white residents. Kate, with her crushes on two black boys, rattles the status quo. It’s also about Kate’s discovery that her beloved father was not perfect, and her finding her own way in life. Through her father, Kate forms a deep friendship with Agnes Davis, an eccentrically independent, wealthy, older woman who demonstrates a different way of life. Along the way, there are some tributes to different people, and some interesting observations about life in a small town.

‘It’s the live ones you have to look out for, not the dead.’
I enjoyed this thoughtful memoir, of an unusual and sometimes difficult childhood. It’s well written and interesting.

My thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read an advance copy of this book.

Jennifer Cameron-Smith

4/5 stars. This lovely and thoughtful memoir opens with beautifully written descriptions of life in a funeral home as seen through the eyes of a child, which is just as fascinating and odd and horrifying as you might imagine. But at the heart of this novel lies the daily struggles, both minor and monumental, both personal and historical, and both hidden and public, that the Mayfield family encounters in 1960's America. Interspersed with sections titled "In Memorium" to eulogize memorable or interesting individuals who passed through the funeral home, this is a quick, engaging read for both historical/literary fiction and memoir lovers alike.

Originally reviewed for Reading Lark, ARC kindly provided by publisher.

In The Undertaker's Daughter, the title (and gorgeous cover) and the morbidity/eccentric nature of the funeral home setting may be the hook, but Mayfield's writing and family story are what keep the reader engaged. Deeply held beliefs about race and class, mental illness, infidelity, addiction, and the perseverance of the human spirit are just a handful of the topics eloquently dealt with in this story that, at times, reminded me of a mash-up of Six Feet Under and The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls. The five Mayfields are written with detail and depth that seems to come from a desire to understand and make sense of their lives together.

The vivid secondary characters give this memoir a unique appeal. There is a town eccentric who, for all intents and purposes, is a red dress wearing, gift bestowing Miss Havisham. Additions of characters via the "In Memoriam" sections also add depth to the town of Jubilee, which is a character in itself. Linda, a poor, hand-me-down wearing classmate who drowned in the town pool. The family of four whose father murdered them and then turned the gun on himself. Mr. Foxwood, whose wife stands at his coffin and quietly thanks god for "finally putting this bastard in the ground." Honey Pratt, whose daughters fought over her jewelry eight hours after she passed and The Visitor who came regularly to funerals, without ever knowing the deceased and one day simply disappeared never to return again. This cast of characters gives a welcome respite from the sometimes heavier topics dealt with in Mayfield's own family.

This book is among my favorite memoirs, as much for its interesting subject matter and cast of characters as it is for Mayfield's detailed and engaging writing. Highly recommend.

This memoir tells of Kate Mayfield’s life in a small Southern town in the Sixties. Jubilee, Kentucky was still, to all intents and purposes, a segregated town when Frank Mayfield moved his family there and set up his new business. Mother Lily Tate longed for acceptance and a fresh start in her marriage. For, like all families, the Mayfield’s had secrets. Father Frank was a dandy; a flirtatious and sociable man, who led grieving families through funeral arrangements with respect and care. His liking for the ladies and the mental health of older sister, Evelyn, were known by Kate, and cast a shadow over her life; but they were issues not faced until she was much older than the child she is when we first meet her.

Although this book is set in an undertaker’s, it is certainly not dour or depressing. However, when the words, “we’ve got a body,” were spoken by Kate’s mother, she knew that the family had to be silent and out of sight. There could be no music, no playing, not even cooking smells wafting downstairs, when grieving relatives visited. Kate’s father acted as an ambulance driver, as well as an undertaker, and this is a tale – not only of his relationship with Kate and his occupation – but also of small town politics; some of them ugly indeed. There is local family clannish mentality, which means that Frank’s business is constantly taken by his competitor, Alfred Deboe. There are ugly rumours about Frank and his ally, the reclusive and elderly, Miss Agnes. There is also racism, which is taken almost for granted and which Kate inadvertently confronts by her attraction to a young boy at school. Indeed, you cannot blame Kate for her longing to break out of this small town mentality and leaving Jubilee behind. What always pulls her in two directions is her relationship with her father, which remains strong through everything.

I found this a very interesting picture of a family and of Kate’s gradual acceptance of her father’s profession. She goes from resentment to embarrassment to respect, as she comes to understand what her father’s work entails. A teacher, who looks down upon Kate, needs Frank’s services and their relationship suddenly changes. Death visits us all and, despite some people not wishing to think about it, the inhabitants of Jubilee are grateful for his care and attention. The relationship between Kate and her father is central to the book and she tells their story well. Also, at the end of most chapters are a section called, “In Memoriam,” which details some death in the community – be it the drowning of a girl in Kate’s class or the murder of a local family by a father, and gives a sense of the inhabitants of Jubilee. Lastly, I received a copy of this book from the publisher, via NetGalley, for review.

I'm not sure what initially drove me to chose this book. I am a fan of Southern Literature, but not usually a non-fiction kind of reader. Perhaps the title, maybe something intangible. Whatever it was, I'm glad it happened.
I won't be able to say enough good things about this book without sounding over the top.
Suffice it to say, I was blown away by this book.
Not entirely sure what to expect when I went into this one, a bit of humor or macabre? While there is the slightest touch of that, and how could there not be with the author growing up in an active funeral home, there is such a deep story here.
A touching, compelling, true story at it's most basic level. A celebration of death, and life. A reverence for the rituals the living need to survive. Yes, all of these.
A daughter's struggle to find her identity and hide it at the same time. A man so touched by the horrors of death he chose this profession to help not just others cope but to soothe an ache within himself. A family forced to live their lives around a phone call bringing the passing of a fellow citizen. Again, all these things.
There is a quite, subtle southern charm to this story. That is the biggest surprise. To have all these elements combined to envelope the reader and create such a sense of empathy that you feel you are walking hand in hand with Ms. Mayfield as her life evolves.
Normally I am writing about how well fleshed out the characters are, but these are not characters. These are people. Real people. And you will know them, almost touch them and see them. Both the living and the dead are so well preserved in the flowing language of this story.
The remembrances at the end of some chapters help add a further dimension of humanity. Not only do they inject sometimes humor and others harsh sobering reality, they lend a pause to the levity of the story. Giving the reader time to take a breath and process.
Magnificent writing that should take it's place alongside the classics of Southern literature. This isn't just a book for the south, this book is for anyone, regardless of place or background. This book is about death, and life, and that affects us all.

This intimate autobiographical portrait of not just of a girl who lives above the funeral home her father Frank Mayfield runs, but of a broken family and a time and place in history, the 1960's and 1970's when things begin to change in the South, even if the views are harder to change. In 1959, Frank Mayfield moved his family, wife Lily Tate, son Thomas the peacemaker, daughter Evelyn an undiagnosed manic depressive, and second daughter Kate, to Jubilee, Kentucky from the mountains of Western Kentucky to the border of Tennessee. He finds a large house to set up his business on the bottom floors and his home on the second and third floors. He installs multiple phones so he does not miss a single death. The words, "There is a body", invoke a bit of dread in the family, especially Lily Tate who may have planned a bridge club luncheon, that she's using to find a place in society, and then have to cancel it. For the children, it means going upstairs and being quiet and not seen. But that does not mean that Kate does not sneak looks over the banister to see the way her father quietly orchestrates a funeral with only a mere look or small lift of the hands to his employees or the mourners. Frank is like a maestro in his work.

The first trouble comes when two men from the oldest families in the county come to visit him and ask why he has not bought too many concrete vaults (which surrounds the casket in the earth) from them. He says they leak and will not sell people a shoddy product. There is another white funeral home in town and they have already sent business his way and now they have made it a mission of theirs to shut Frank down. It is the Southern good-'ol-boys network and it is quite effective. Even though Frank has a young man who lives in the county to help bring in business from that area.

Help comes in a surprising place. There were no ambulances back then. If you could not get yourself to the hospital, you called the funeral home to come and get you. Frank had a separate vehicle for that, and unlike his competition, does not charge for the service. One night, Miss Agnes, a spinster who lives in the largest and oldest house in town and owns the only fertilizer dealership in Kentucky, has hurt herself and calls Frank. The other funeral director has been sending patients roses to get their business, but all Frank can afford is red carnations, which happen to be Miss Agnes's favorite flower. Her story is incredible in how she was able to go from a wealthy family in town, until her father dies, leaving her in debt, to being very rich with her own business, a rarity in those times. She shuns those who turned their backs on her when her fortunes changed, so her and Frank are foes of the same people and she decides to help him. Miss Agnes is a delightfully eccentric Southern Woman who does things her own way.

Kate's mother gives birth to another child, a girl named Jemma. Her mother is the strict disciplinarian, something she picked up from her own harsh childhood. Her father, Kate would find, is a flawed man. He has a scar on his stomach from the World War II, where he almost died. It was his brother's dream to open up a funeral home, but he died during the war. The torments from the war haunt him and he becomes a man who is not always a good husband or father.

There is also the specter of race. Belle, their black housekeeper, helps raise the kids and Kate wonders why it is OK to sit in Belle's lap at home, but she cannot sit next to her in a theater. When black students begin to finally arrive in her middle school, she goes out with one for a while. When both races find out, she is threatened by a group of black girls after school, and her parents who tell her it could end her father's business, which it would. Oddly, Frank sometimes helps the only colored funeral director with embalming or with ordering things if need be, but he still does not seem to think of them as being equal.

While this book offers a glimpse inside of the old way funeral homes worked, it is through the eyes of a child, who basically never goes into the embalming room or sees but glimpses of the pageantry of the funerals. This book looks at a family that is far from perfect, at a dangerous time in the South, a different world all on its own, and small town politics and prejudices. Kate loves her family, but comes to realize that she is not meant to stay in Jubilee, but is meant for a wider world in which to explore life. There are many who help her see this, even if her family cannot.

Quotes
I’d become familiar with all of her church frocks; now she was draped in her new widow’s black. I felt bad for her. Sixty years, that’s’ a long time, I thought, practically forever. She’s going to miss him terribly. I began to back away, but when she raised her hands, I knew a prayer was coming and I couldn’t resist….’O dear Lord’, she whispered, ‘I just want to thank you today. Thank you, Lord, thank you, thank you. Thank you for allowing me to finally put this bastard in the ground.’
--Kate Mayfield (The Undertaker’s Daughter p 38)

The South is like a lusty woman who stands at the mirror and admires her own astounding beauty, a beauty that after all these years only seems to intensify with age. Even though her face has changed, she has never lost her melancholy charm.
--Kate Mayfield (The Undertaker’s Daughter p 369)
Belle couldn’t go with me to the movies because we’d be separated after we entered. She would be required to sit upstairs in the balcony, and I would sit downstairs. I thought this was a strange, strange rule. I couldn’t understand why I could sit on her lap at home and not sit beside her in public. I wondered how it was that she could feed me and clothe me, yet be made to separate from me when we walked into the cinema.
--Kate Mayfield (The Undertaker’s Daughter p 54)
The seventies crept up on Jubilee and settled like a canker sore. Was it possible to hate an entire decade based on a dearth of natural fibers?
--Kate Mayfield (The Undertaker’s Daughter p 255)

The undertaker’s family lived on the second floor of the one funeral home in the little East Texas town in which I grew up – and I was always curious about what that must have been like for the man’s three children. But the kids were all older than me, and I had no one to ask, a minor problem that made Kate Mayfield’s The Undertaker’s Daughter irresistible. As it turns out, the memoir is more complicated than I expected it to be.

Mayfield admirably answers all the questions I had about what it must be like to live around dead bodies and caskets, and (in her case) to sleep directly above the spookiest room in any funeral home, its embalming room. In addition, she talks about things like the card parties her mother regularly hosted, parties of her own with girlfriends during which they scared each other (and, in the process, themselves) with an Ouija Board, of all things, and the times her father and his own friends “partied” in the home’s oversized garage area.

But all the time anything like this was happening at Mayfield & Son Funeral Home, everyone in the family was subconsciously waiting for the phone call that would announce the imminent arrival of the next dead body – because that’s when things really got crazy. Then, life on the second floor had to be conducted in almost total silence so as not to disturb the mourners downstairs. And meals were most often of the sandwich variety so that those same mourners would not be offended by any cooking smells. To the Mayfield kids, though, it all seemed perfectly normal.

But the real beauty of The Undertaker’s Daughter is in what the author reveals about the inner workings of her family. Life inside the funeral home was even more difficult than everyone in the little Kentucky town already suspected it might be. The Mayfield family, as are most, was far from being a perfect one, and Kate Mayfield’s frank account of what was going on behind the scenes is an intriguing one. Among other things, she explores the often-strained relationship between her parents; recounts what it was like to live with an older sister whose mental problems made her a genuine threat to the safety of her siblings; and exposes the social and sexual mores she herself ignored.

At times, in fact, The Undertaker’s Daughter reads more like a coming-of-age novel than it does a memoir. Particularly moving is Kate Mayfield’s strong attachment to her father and how her feelings about him change as she discovers more and more of his personal secrets. But even with as much as she ultimately learned about her father, the author knows that he took some of his secrets with him to the grave.

Simply put, The Undertaker’s Daughter makes for a fascinating read – and it will be a shame if some Hollywood production company doesn’t turn this into an equally fascinating movie.

There is an immediate fascination with the title of Kate Mayfield’s memoir. Who has not wondered what it would be like to be a member of the undertaker’s brood? The funeral business used to be, and often still is, a secretive family concern. Mayfield has pulled back the curtain.

Co-author of two earlier nonfiction books (10 STEPS TO FASHION FREEDOM and ELLIE HART GOES TO WORK), Mayfield finds her stride in this evocative return to the 1960s, to a society that dared not speak of disease, disability or difference to a South not yet liberated from racism, despite the public face of integration and to a home dominated by dead bodies. Her undertaker father Frank was a bon vivant whose lugubrious respect for the departed seemed at odds with his attractive sociability. He opened the door for her to his inner chamber --- the embalming room. She learned its arcana early on: “People wanted their loved ones to look good and smell nice,” and that was the magic her father could do for the dead.

Though not always mired in morbidity, it was hardly a regular upbringing --- the family could be called back from anywhere, even a vacation in Florida, for a death in Jubilee, Kentucky. For several days then, there would be no shouting, laughing, television or music upstairs, where the family resided, while the rites of death proceeded downstairs. Frank was known for womanizing and he drank too much, while his wife, Lily, suffered in mostly silent sacrifice. Mayfield found the local cemetery a place of solitary solace and, indeed, happy childhood play. Choosing a black boyfriend in high school in that hypocritical era all but destroyed her social life.

One sister was bipolar at a time when mental illness was not spoken of, and it was later learned that Frank suffered from PTSD, rarely discussed and little understood, as the only survivor when his entire platoon was killed during World War II. Frank was the best, maybe the only, friend of Miss Agnes, ancient occupant of the town’s gothic mansion and often took his daughter to visit her. The grande dame, dressed in red down to her underwear, introduced the girl to the writings of Edgar Allan Poe.

If anyone had a childhood worth fleeing, it was Kate Mayfield, and going away to college was the first step in that process. Frank’s death brought her back. The account of the last rites of “the undertaker in the casket” is something of a dark highlight, though, as if, in preparation, the book is interspersed with vivid descriptions of the funerals her father orchestrated --- from a drowned 11-year-old classmate to the town reprobate, whose wife did not recognize him after Frank’s thorough ministrations (“for the first time in his career, my father bought scouring powder”).

Though richly redolent of an earlier era, THE UNDERTAKER’S DAUGHTER inevitably raises questions about what we all must face when loved ones pass and everything usual and bright in our lives must be set aside, as it was for Mayfield, while rituals of death hold sway. Looking back, Mayfield feels fortunate to have had the experience of her youth among the departed, believing that it gave her “an eagerness to test the thumping breast of life.”

Reviewed by Barbara Bamberger Scott.

It is always fascinating to read about how other people live (or have lived as the case may be). This particular period of time in American history (the 1960's, desegregation, the war, etc.) has broad appeal. Kate Mayfield has crafted for us an absorbing recollection of her life from the unique perspective of the funeral home. I requested a copy of this book from NetGalley, not realizing at the time that it was a Memoir. I received a free copy for the purpose of review, and as a result I have a new perspective on the memoir.

In The Undertaker's Daughter Mayfield gives us a glimpse into her childhood as well as an understanding of what rural life in small town Kentucky was like. The book reads like a story, with emotion and personality. She does not sugar coat, but is not blatant and crass either. I learned many things about the profession of the undertaker as well as early ambulatory care. Kate is open with her readers about the skeletons in her family closet as well as those of her community. Mayfield drew me into the Kentucky of her childhood, lending nostalgia with just enough detail to encourage you not to dwell there. I recommend this book for those interested this time in American history as well as lovers of southern life and those with an interested in mortuary arts or curiosity about funeral homes.

As the daughter of an undertaker, Kate Mayfield experienced a very unconventional childhood. It was 1959, and she was just beginning grade school when her father moved the family to Jubilee, Kentucky. There he fulfilled his dream when he opened a funeral home in the family residence.

Funerals were commonplace in the family home. One of four children, Kate learned to be quiet and essentially invisible, but never by choice. While her older siblings were able to have activities outside the home, she struggled with this imposed solitude throughout her childhood.

Kate takes us through her developing years. She tells what it was like with a busy, charismatic father and a stoic, unhappy mother. Her brother was smart and easygoing, but her older sister had serious anger issues, often striking out at Kate and her younger sister. It isn't until much later that these issues are painfully addressed.

Kate tells of the difficulty of trying to fit in with schoolmates. Friendships don't come easy to a child growing up in a "creepy" funeral home. Her closest friends end up being the family housekeeper, and an eccentric elderly friend (and eventual benefactor) of the family.

Kate's story is much more than being an undertaker's daughter, however. She writes with candor of early forbidden love, racism, and the complexities of growing up in small town USA during the turbulent 1960s. In addition, she offers interesting historical background of her home town and its people.

Ultimately, Kate Mayfield has written a beautiful memoir. Sharing her experiences with clarity and insight, she draws you in with honesty and keeps you there with keen emotion. I loved this memoir.

The Undertaker's Daughter is the story of a young girl growing up in a funeral home. Growing up, Kate is set apart from others in her small town first by living in a funeral home, and second, because she is curiously colorblind in a southern town still afraid of desegregation. Everything is told matter of fact: from her sister's outbursts to a brief mention of the Vietnam War to Kate's first kiss. Looking back at her life, Kate is somehow able to write her story with the eyes of the child who first lived it, while using the vocabulary of an adult. While this is not a children's book, you can see the curiosity of a child through the words on the page. This book also gives up a glimpse into a small southern town after segregation and the history that binds it's citizens, made more interesting as the story is told by a child without the bias of her elders.

I can't imagine living in a funeral home, let along growing up in one. After reading Kate Mayfield's book, I can see how it formed part of who she is and her interactions with people. From seeing touching her first corpse to paying piano at a funeral, death is a normal part of Kate's life. Reading this book helps me to understand that death, while it is never wanted, is a part of everyone's life - some more than others - and not something to be feared.

Thank you to the publisher and Netgalley for providing me with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Before discussing macabre memories and small town idiosyncrasies, I should start and say that Katy Mayfield is a fine writer. Her ability to turn a phrase, to toss in a jot of wisdom, to bring her family and small town to literary life, to be funny during complex situations, was impressive. I was eager to return to the book each time I picked it up, and didn’t want to put it down. It is at times funny, at times heart shattering, and is always searching for an understanding of the present while hoping for a better future.

The Undertaker’s Daughter ends my summer of reading memoirs, and was one of the best. It is not a self-absorbed tale, but remembers that its lead character is a member of a larger community, and throughout introduces us to new characters, and new challenges. Set in a funeral home/family home (think of the movie “My Girl" without the cuteness), it evokes southern small town mores of a by-gone era. I like the fact that the author believes enough in the material by not including mortuary or undertaker tidbits at the beginning of each chapter. I think that it could have used more “In Memoriam” sections, but stands strong on its own merits.

The Undertakers Daughter was a surprise find. When I picked it up it was hard to put it down…under.

I liked this book very much. It was a fast and enjoyable read. It grabbed my attention right away in the opening pages with a delightful description of the local ladies card club luncheon hosted by her mother. She paints a vivid picture of 1950s small town culture with her mother fussing over the preparations, the food and place settings just so, and then introduces the ladies in all their glory of hats, suits, perfumes and gossip. Later she gives equal time to the men having an illicit card game in a back room of the funeral parlor.

As it happens, I grew up in that same era in a similar small town with a similar funeral home where the family lived in the upstairs portion of the building, so this book gave me a wonderful trip down memory lane. I always wondered what life was like for that family, and I would guess that the experiences described by this author were probably pretty typical for most kids growing up in those surroundings. Small town undertakers back then were much more than just a mortician, they also ran the ambulance service. They were expected to be a pillars of the community, and their business depended on the image of a certain degree of dignity and respect, despite the fact that they didn't always get that respect in return. It also put a lot of pressure on their kids to conform and not do anything untoward that might discourage new business. It's not at all morbid as some might think, although there was a little more than I wanted to know about the process of preparing a body for burial. It's funny and entertaining and I recommend it to all readers but especially those who grew up in small towns or who came of age in the 50s and 60s will enjoy and appreciate the bittersweet memories it evokes.

The Undertaker’s Daughter is the true story of Kate Mayfield’s unusual childhood. The first 13 years of her life, she lived in a funeral home in a small town in the South of Kentucky. Frank, her father, was an undertaker, and death was a big part of their lives. When a body was brought to the funeral home, the kids were not supposed to make any noise, so there was no talking, singing, arguing or running in the house for a few days. Kate was introduced to death at a young age, but she tried to live as normal a life as she could.

The Undertaker’s Daughter has many colorful characters, and the story is really compelling. At the end of certain chapters, the author writes a few paragraphs, called “In Memoriam”, where she talks about the death of a particular person because she knew the deceased, or because the circumstances were unusual. I found this to be a nice touch, and a great way to remember these people. Moreover, the book deals with serious subjects. As the story takes place in the 1960s, segregation was very much present with a marked separation between colour and classes. Jubilee, the small town where Kate lived, was a God-fearing place, and the consumption of alcohol was still considered a crime. The book also deals with mental illness, as Kate’s older sister was later diagnosed with severe bipolar disorder. Of course, I also loved the literary references to Charles Dickens and Edgar Allan Poe. However, I found that sometimes it was hard to tell Kate’s age as there was no way of keeping track of the passage of time, and I would have liked to know at what stage of her childhood she was when some things happened. In addition, I would have loved to know more about the presence Kate sometimes felt when a body was laid out in the funeral home’s chapel. She only goes over this briefly. Overall though, this was an interesting and thought-provoking read, and I highly recommend it.

The Undertaker’s Daughter was sent to me for free in exchange for an honest review.

Please go to my blog, Cecile Sune - Bookobsessed, if you would like to read more reviews or discover fun facts about books and authors.

This is a lot more interesting than your standard memoir. This book reads easily and at times more like a novel than an account of a person's own life experiences.

I liked the honest way the author approached this. I could imagine myself as a child, being told to be quiet all the time and trying to obey the rules--finding it nearly impossible and could sympathise with the author. Growing up in a home where the family business is also conducted is hard on a child. As this book progressed, I felt as though the author was someone I knew well and her story touched my heart.

This is the kind of memoir that stays with you, as you see or do something days after finishing it and think about some part of the book--some experience the author described and it makes you smile to realise you have made a connection with someone you have never met because of their writing.

Even if you aren't a fan of the memoir in itself, you should give this one a try. I really enjoyed it.

This review is based on a complimentary copy from the publisher and provided through Netgalley. All opinions are my own.

Wonderfully written, delightfully descriptive & a "Must Read"!

This is a memoir told through the experiences of one of Frank Mayfield's daughters, as she grew through the years living above Mayfield & Son Funeral Home in a small town of Kentucky named Jubilee

The time period is mainly the 60's & 70's where Kate is enamored with most aspects of her father's business. She uses so many wonderfully descriptive adjectives that the reader feels like an outside observer into her life. You can imagine & see all she is seeing, hearing & experiencing through her well written words

She takes you on a journey through an undertaker's life & work like no other I've ever read before

To retell her story here would do the book an injustice as I feel I wouldn't want to ruin her beautiful story

I highly recommend this book. I'd give it 10 stars if I could. If you enjoy memoirs & interest in a small Kentucky town in the this time period, this is the book to read

I received a copy of this book from NetGalley in return for an honest opinion. I'd like to thank the publisher & the author, much appreciated & a fine read indeed!

This review originally appeared on my blog at www.gimmethatbook.com.

I received this ARC through NetGalley in exchange for this honest review.

Author Kate Mayfield tells us what it was like to grow up living above her family’s funeral home in Jubilee, Kentucky, in the 1970’s. The plot is simple but there are plenty of stories to fill the book. The author tells her story in first person, and the story spans years as she grows up and comes of age. In all honesty, I almost gave up about 25% of the way through: the first part of the book is slow going, almost Southern-treacle slow. Things happen, but there is not much interest generated, as dead bodies share the same amount of urgency as meals or talking to neighbors. The only reason I kept going with it was that I was stuck at work with nothing else to read, so I kept going in desperation.

I’m really glad I did. Somehow Mayfield gets out of first gear and her stories take on more energy. We come to realize that it’s not just about growing up above a funeral home and experiencing death on a daily basis–it’s about living with a sister with a terrible mental illness. It’s about learning that your father is human and fallible. It’s about discovering yourself at the same time that you find out how insidious discrimination can be, in a small town in the 70’s. It’s about secrets, large and small, and finally grasping that the one thing all dead people leave behind are secrets.

As the pages turn I followed Mayfield through the minefield of junior high, and her first crush. Her father’s actions are still nebulous until almost the very end of the book, when we finally find out why he befriended a dotty old woman that the town shuns, and where he really got that mysterious “war wound” . Mayfield stays true to herself, seemingly the only one with a strong head and firm sense of self, overshadowed as she is by a vague older brother, a psychotic older sister, and a mother who stays by her man no matter what wrongs are perpetrated (alcoholism, infidelity). I found Mayfield’s mother the most irritating character there, with her inflated sense of Southern gentility and lack of outward emotion. The author more than adequately describes the stifling atmosphere in her childhood home.

The ending is poignant, as she explains how things finally turn out after the death of her father and everyone goes their separate ways. I especially enjoyed how she explained her visit to her childhood home, formerly the funeral home, now renovated into an apartment building. I’ve always wanted to go back to my childhood home, and I think Mayfield nails the feeling:

Each time a door opened, I experienced something familiar, but it was like walking with a veil over my face.

The downstairs area, where the business of dying had taken place, was the most changed. One of the apartments downstairs was newly renovated and empty. I stepped onto the new carpet and admired the fresh paint job, then walked through a door into a closet or storage area, a small, narrow room with no windows. We couldn’t find the light switch and stood in almost complete darkness. In the silence a sudden shiver rippled up my spine, and then I knew. This was the embalming room. I was sure of it. I could scarcely breathe. As chilling as it was, it was the most peculiar and familiar feeling, the closest I had yet come to reexperiencing my childhood home.

The sound of the real estate agent’s keys brought me out of my trance and we left. I was shattered.

I recommend this book–move past the slower start and you will be rewarded. Want your own copy? You can pick it up here.

Funeral homes have always been fascinating to me. In the small-town where I grew up, I especially remember the one (it might have been the only one) which had the beautiful fountain in front. It seems that every few months someone put dish soap in the fountain so it would bubble and sparkle. And I was completely amazed that a family actually lived in the funeral home. But I didn't know them, and I didn't know what it was like to live there.

In Kate Mayfield's memoir, I get an idea of what that was like. She describes growing up there in a forthright manner: what the business was like (cut-throat competition!), what the process is like (from picking up the bodies through the funeral service), and what it's like to be living among the dead. The memoir is always respectful and completely interesting.

And it's about more than the funeral side of things. It's about growing up fiercely independent in a town full of small-minded people, in an era of repression and oppression. It's about growing up with a voracious love of reading, a father with too many secrets, and an angry and abusive sister.

This is a beautifully told and eye-opening memoir, with respect for the living and the dead.

The Undertaker's Daughter is a memoir by Kate Mayfield whose family owned and operated a funeral home in Jubilee, a small town on the border of Kentucky and Tennessee, from the 1960's to the late 1970's.

Kate and her family, her parents Lily and Frank and siblings Thomas, Evelyn and Jemma, lived above the business, housed on the ground floor of their home. As a young child Kate had the run of the place, though she was required to tiptoe around their quarters when a body was in residence. In the first few chapters, she shares her charming curiosity about the deceased that passed through the home, uncomplicated by a fear of death and social disapproval.

As Kate grows up, the memoir's focus shifts to the town and her family, though the undertaking business remains relevant. She details the small town politics the family had to contend with, the often eccentric townspeople, and touches on the issues of segregation and desegregation, through her friendship with the family's housekeeper, Belle, and her own clandestine relationships with two African American boys as a teen. With regards to her family, Kate reveals her sister's mental illness but is especially focused on her relationship with her father, a complicated man she worshiped as a child, but who lost some of his lustre when Kate eventually learned of the secrets he kept as a serial adulterer and secret drinker.

Well written, The Undertaker's Daughter is a charming and poignant memoir exploring one woman's experience of life and death in a small southern town.

This is a memoir about a girl who was raised in a funeral home, as her father was an undertaker. They live in a small Kentucky town that has lots of secrets, but most of them are revealed or hinted at in the funeral home. The family has to live to maintain a proper reverence and also see sides of the local people that others do not.

Kate shares many stories of her experiences, of her parents and siblings, and of the people who make up the town. She eventually leaves the crushing atmosphere of the funeral home. We learn of the secrets of her own father, as well, as he appeared to be a pillar of the community, but was actually an alcoholic and unfaithful to her mother. She has to deal with a sister who has mental problems.

It is an interesting story in itself, but has a depth to it because of all the conflict that must be overcome. I would recommend the book.

I love a good memoir, and this one did not disappoint. I don’t know how she did it, but the author transformed herself into a little girl again and took me with her as she grew up in a most unusual place, a funeral home. I laughed out loud when I read her experiences and insights, and found it hard to put the book down for any length of time. I’m mostly a non-fiction reader, and this book broke a reading slump I’ve been in lately. The book held my interest all the way through, however, I was sorry to have her grow up. A memoir is about life, and one thing about life that’s certain is it doesn’t stay the same forever.

The author took me kicking and screaming on her journey through life when I saw change coming to her world as time went on. Kicking and screaming because I wanted her to stay little and keep entertaining me with the events going on around her. I wanted her problems to remain the small ones that little kids think are big. I found myself marking several passages that I want to re-read and enjoy again and again.

I also appreciate the epilogue at the end of the story that brought me up to date on people and events since the story ended. To the author, a big thank you for writing your enjoyable story! I plan to recommend it to a memoir writing group I belong to.

Fascinating read. During the years I was growing up in my own small home town, Mrs. Mayfield was growing up in her small town in Kentucky as the daughter of one of the town's undertakers. My life was not half so interesting. Her family lived on the top floor of the family business, a funeral home. If you were a fan of Six Feet Under, I think you'd really like this read. While the goings on in a mid-century funeral home are morbidly fascinating, I found mostly that this is a story of a father and daughter. While she admires her father as any little girl would, she finds that there are cracks beneath the persona of the caring, repectful undertaker. That her father is a human being with flaws and a troubled past. I found it a fascinating character study.

Many thanks to NetGalley and Gallery, Threshold Pocket Books for a copy of this book to review in exchange for an honest opinion.

This lovely memoir is the story of Kate Mayfield, daughter of an undertaker in Jubilee, Kentucky in the 1960's and 1970's. It paints a vivid picture of the interesting life of a young girl living in a funeral home. It also covers so much more than that. The book delves into so many other topics; race relations in the South, mental illness, PTSD from WWII, adultery, and alcoholism. This book is extremely well written and reads easily like a novel. I found the small town of Jubilee and it's characters to be so interesting. The relationship of Kate with her father is fascinating. We see her go from idolizing him and his extreme care in dealing with the dead and their families to realizing that he was a man with flaws and many secrets.

I highly recommend this book.

Ever wonder what it'd be like to be the Undertaker's child ? If so , then this is the book for you . It's a memoir about a girl growing up in the funeral home, of having to be quiet during the viewings and funeral services. She longs to be close to her dad, and since he is usually busy with his job, she becomes interested in most of the "behind the scenes" things done before and during the deaths of the local citizens . There are personal issues in their family , but the main part of the book tells of the funeral business ,but by the end of the story, the author opens up a bit more about her own family and the personal struggles they each had . A very good book, highly recommended.
Thank you to NetGally for a copy of this in exchange for a review .

I really enjoyed this well-written and interesting memoir. It begins in 1959, when Kate and her family moved to the small town of Jubilee, Kentucky where her father opened his own funeral home, where they also lived. The story reads like fiction, and shares what it was like to live in a small town in the south during that time, the effects of desegregation, and her thoughts about death and the funeral business. I felt like I was reading a novel, rather than a memoir and the characters and events were quite intriguing. I received this book free to review from Netgalley and I highly recommend it.

Disclaimer: My sincere thanks to NetGalley and Gallery Books for providing me with a complimentary e-book copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.

My Review: In this memoir, Kate Mayfield writes honestly about her life growing up in an unusual setting: a funeral home. Her family life is definitely not ordinary and you feel for her as she tries to navigate within her familial dysfunction, her unique living situation and life in small town (sometimes small minded) Kentucky.

This book had some great moments and some 'just okay' moments for me. I enjoyed the author's voice and had to keep reminding myself that this was a memoir because it read much more like a fictional read and definitely had a 'stranger than fiction' feel to it. And although it did tend to drag a bit in the beginning for me, the pace picked up towards the end climaxing with a very distressing scene between two of the characters.

There's a lot going on in this book besides life in a funeral home (which if I'm being honest took a back seat to other story lines the older Kate got). It dealt with segregation, alcoholism, mental illness, death and even a lawsuit. The reader also gets a peek at some of the unique services that the undertakers of the time offered.

The book blurb describes this book as a cross between The Help and Six Feet Under but to me the association with The Help was a little weak. I had expected a lot more on that topic but got much more about the inner workings of a funeral home and the antics of the townspeople which were interesting but not what I had expected to read.

In the end this book focused on a tumultuous and dysfunctional family with many secrets. The characters were unique and I liked getting a unique look at what life was like for Mayfield as she struggled to come to terms with her changing view of her father, her town's restrictive view of race and her very tumultuous relationship with her older sister. While this is not a light-hearted read it did ooze Southern charm and I enjoyed getting a view into Mayfield's unique life and struggles.

My Rating: 3/5 stars
** This book review, as well as hundreds more, can also be found on my blog, The Baking Bookworm (www.thebakingbookworm.blogspot.ca) where I also share my favourite recipes. **

Excellent book by a woman who has led a life more unusual than most! Ms Mayfield's writing is so similar to Harper Lee's. She has a geniune understanding of southern life, and she paints a portrait so colorfully that you want to savor the words as you read the pages. Although the plotline is not as exciting as what happened in "To kill a mockingbird" it still remains a beautiful piece of prose that depicts southern life in the 50s and 60s. I loved it. I wished by the end of it that she had had other stories to tell. It is a real page turner!

From the intriguing cover through the final page, Kate Mayfield takes you on an incredible journey about growing up in a small rural town in the 60's. A time when we didn't know what we didn't know, before computers and cell phones and instant information. Kate vividly reflects upon her life as the daughter of an undertaker/funeral director in a small, conservative, rural Kentucky town. Kate shares her life and the family's dysfunctions in this coming of age memoir. Funeral directors in small towns lead an incredibly microscopic life with their flaws hidden from everyone but family, as Kate painfully describes and try's to understand while dealing with her own hidden emotions and discoveries. The 60's were an incredible period of self awareness and unknown as our country lost her innocence with President Kennedy' assassination, the coming civil rights movement and race relations, and the still unexplained quandary of the Vietnam War. "The Undertaker's Daughter" gives the reader a wonderful glimpse of that period of time and is a delightful book to read. Highly recommend.

I really enjoyed this memoir. It was very interesting but not over-sharing and not too many indelicate details of embalming. Just enough to be a tad squeamish but then she moved on. What a fascinatingly weird way to grow up! Obviously Mayfield is not the first nor will be the last child to grow up in/near a funeral home but she also wove a story in and around that main theme. Liked it a lot.

This memoir gets better as it moves along. The book is the story of a family whose father is an undertaker. Parts are sad, some are funny, places in the book are disturbing, and others are heart warming. The book central focus is on one daughter's focus and love for her father - even when he is flawed. The memoir includes adultery, death, friendship, enemies, an insane sister, a devoted wife, alcohol, gambling, a beloved housekeeper, funerals, and more. Excellent! This book deserves an A+++++++++

This story was so about so many things. Growing up in the south, growing up in a funeral home, growing up during the 60's and 70's, growing up with an undiagnosed bi polar sister, living with a dad who suffered PTSD, and the list goes on. The writing was good and the stories were good.

I truly enjoyed growing up with Kate, following her trials and tribulations. She grew up in my era and I could relate to a lot of what went on in her life. While I thought it was going to be a little more humorous as the book was touted as being like "The Help" (it was not) I still enjoyed reading it. It was very raw, emotional and heartfelt. A true symbol of the era in which it was written.

Thank you Gallery Books and Net Galley for providing me with the e-galley in exchange for an honest review.

I found this book by chance and could not resist it because, I too, was an undertaker's daughter. Although details like the Southern setting. the father's war background, the eccentric Miss Agnes were not part of my life, her remembrances of living in the funeral home were so accurate and real -- the need for quiet, the embalming room, the shrouds, the casket display, the funeral decorum. I felt as if I was reading my life story. So many times people still ask me what it was like to grow up amidst the dead, and Kate Mayfield told that perfectly.
I loved this book for it realism and honesty.

Interesting. My sister was good friends with a classmate whose father was a mortician. They lived upstairs, above the mortuary. She has relayed many stories to me of events involved in staying overnight with her friend. Some matched the's author's. The authors's experiences in her own life reflected upon the years that persisted after the Civil Rights movements. There was a lot i could relate to in this book, growing up in that era. Beautiful description of the era!

An engaging book and enjoyable experience. The last chapter seemed divorced from the rest like a human interest piece about folks we already knew. The narrative jumped at times and was not always a smooth flow.

The story just pulls you in, and doesn't let you go. The way the author ties the secrets of the town to her own families is engrossing. Reminiscent of To Kill a Mockingbird in all the best ways. Highly recommended.

Ms. Agnes Davis lived in Russellville, KY, in a house called Bibb House. Mayfield Funeral Home and all the characters in this story all existed here in Russellville. You can google our small town and Frank Mayfield or you can come and see all these things for yourself!

Originally posted at https://readrunstudy.wordpress.com/

As a fan of Mary Roach’s Stiff, I was intrigued by The Undertaker’s Daughter when I first saw it on NetGalley. I loved the cover and the synopsis was interesting, but the story itself didn’t work for me. I only made it through about 50% of the book before I put it down. I simply couldn’t push myself to read further.

I enjoyed the first bit of the book (even mentioning that I was liking it in an early update) – the vignette style chapters where we learned a little about different people in the town were interesting. However, Mayfield’s narrative meandered in such a way that left me confused as a reader. I was never quite sure how old she was supposed to be, so the timing and sequence of events was unclear. Additionally, I wanted to see how the vignettes connected to one another, but it didn’t feel like they were ever going to come together. And I wanted to know more about the inner workings of the town, particularly the racial segregation and the rivalry between the funeral homes in town.

While Mayfield may have provided more of that as the book continued, I couldn’t read on because I could not stand the way she wrote about her family. Her portrayal of Evelyn, her sister who likely suffered from a mental illness (does she ever confirm this?), was particularly offensive and difficult to read. She could have at least pretended to show compassion, but she did not. I also was not interested in her father’s affairs (though I understand that was mentioned in the synopsis so I should have expected it) and found myself bored reading about her relationship with Miss Agnes.

Overall, I didn’t enjoy this because it wasn’t what I was expecting (I wanted more Stiff and less Jerry Springer) and I’m not sure what the author’s intentions were. Half way through the book, all I know is that she hates her sister.

-Tanya Read (Read. Run. Study.)