Lion, Sonya Walger

A short and powerful memoir. A bit over 100 pages, Walger’s Lion is an exploration of memory, legacy, and the deep imprint a parent leaves on a child’s life. The title itself is a powerful metaphor for the author’s father, whose larger-than-life presence and absence both loom large throughout the narrative. Walger’s prose is lyrical and introspective, weaving together fragments of memory, family lore, and personal reflection. The book challenges the reader to consider how we construct identity from the stories we inherit and the silences we are left to interpret, in order to capture the elusive truth of a relationship defined by admiration, longing, and inevitable distance. There is the paradoxes of parental love: the desire to be seen and understood by someone who is both mythic and imperfect. Walger’s account is unflinchingly honest, refusing to simplify the father-daughter bond or to offer easy resolutions. Instead, she embraces the complexity of love and loss.