Tag: gift

No More Words

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Lindbergh, Reeve. No More Words:

Reason read: this was a gift from a new pen-pal I just started exchanging letters with this last December. Something in her holiday card compelled me to write her back and we have been communicating every since.

Everyone knows the author Anne Morrow Lindbergh. If they do not then they should! In the summer of 1999 she was ninety-three years old and living with her youngest child, Reeve. Reeve, at the time of No More Words, was a fifty-four mother sandwiched between caring for her elderly mother, being a wife, and raising a seventh grader son. She writes of this experience beautifully.
In a nutshell, No More Words is a poignant memoir. It was lovely of Reeve to quote her mother’s work at the beginning of every chapter, but she also included some of her sister’s poetry and a snippet of her father’s autobiography. Like a delicious cake studded with extra sweet strawberries, Reeve’s memoir is a treat of all the Lindbergh’s voices.
Maybe it is because I am of Reeve’s age when she lost her mother. Maybe it is because my own mother’s health keeps me up at night. Maybe it is the simple fact that I know nothing lasts forever, but No More Words became a primer for me on how to listen to your mother. I mean really listen. Reeve taught me how to remove the resentment and hurt and just be. Reeve travels beyond correcting and criticizing to compassion and calm. I only hope I have that same grace when it is my turn.

Confessional: I had Reeve in my head when my mother telephoned last weekend. She can go months without speaking to me so when, after only four weeks, she said we hadn’t spoken for awhile I almost felt combative. Taking a deep breath, I let the comment pass and instead listened to her babble on about 1920 sausage-making methods, chimpanzees in space, and pheasants in the yard. How many of these moments will I have left?

Favorite takeaway (and there many): the chant of right here, right now set to breath in and out.

Book trivia: each new chapter begins with a quote from something Anne Morrow Lindbergh has published, either in a college paper or in a book.

Music: “Wabash Cannonball”, “Winter Wonderland”, Bach, Handel, Mozart, and Andres Segovia.

Of Time and Turtles

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Montgomery, Sy. Of Time and Turtles: Mending the World, Shell By Shattered Shell. Illustrated by Matt Patterson. Mariner Books, 2023.

Reason read: my sister gave this to me as a Christmas gift. I have long since broken my rule about non-Challenge books, especially ones given to me by my sister. She is, after all, the one responsible for the Challenge in the first place.

If you remember (and it is okay if you don’t), my sister gave me another Sy Montgomery book called Soul of an Octopus. This time it is a book about turtles, my absolute favorite creature on the planet. Sy Montgomery and her friend and illustrator, Matt Patterson, spend some time volunteering with the Turtle Rescue League (TRL is not be be confused with the MTV show Total Request Live). This TRL is a Massachusetts-based organization with the sole purpose of rescuing and rehabilitating (when possible) turtles of all kinds. Think of Montgomery’s Of Time and Turtles as a love story; a memoir about her time volunteering with TRL making friends with people and rescued turtles instead of a scientific deep dive into the biological and physiological makeup of the species. She repeatedly falls in love with various snappers and sliders so much so that their stories become an integral part of the narrative. You want to know what happens to each and every rescue.
As an aside, Matt Patterson’s illustrations are fantastic.

As an aside, while I appreciated Montgomery’s openness surrounding transgender and transsexual people (she spent several pages on the topic), if she is going to talk about it, I would have liked to see her dive into the gender specifications and sexual preferences of everyone in her story: Cris, Matt, Michaela, Clint, Emily, and Heidi. I read a good blog

Author fact: Montgomery has written a plethora of books. The only other one I have read is The Soul of an Octopus given to me by, you guessed it, my sister.

Book trivia: Of Time and Turtles has a great collection of illustrations (by Matt Patterson) and a small section of photographs.

Music: Slayer, and “Sweet Home Alabama”.

Finding Freedom

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French, Erin. Finding Freedom: Celadon, 2021.

Reason read: this was a gift from my sister. I read everything that comes from her, especially if it takes place in Maine.

To say Erin French is a fighter is an understatement. Let’s start with childhood with an mentally abusive father. I think about what kind of person I would be if, unless I was doing something for him, I never received honest love from my father. To watch him drown kittens would be enough to traumatize me for life. [That is the stuff of nightmares, especially if you are too young to understand the necessity of the act.]
Finding Freedom is not only a story of redemption, but one of tenacity. Coming from a small town is almost always seen as a curse. There is a stigma around being from Nowhere, America. You are considered a nobody if you can’t get out. Breaking free and escaping from your small provincial hometown to make it in the “real world” is always the unspoken goal. Erin almost made it out, but when she had a child out of wedlock and had to come crawling home to Freedom, Maine, it should have been a source of shame, but instead the act saved Erin’s life. Even though there were more adversities to come, her son Jaim gave her a reason to live, to fight, and to succeed. Because of him she was able to navigate a horrific (some would say diabolical) divorce, survive a bizarre custody battle for Jaim, conquer an all-consuming alcohol and prescription pill addiction, and find financial stability. She was able to break down every roadblock her ex-husband and her own demons put in front of her.
You may think I have given you spoilers for Finding Freedom. Believe me when I say I haven’t. There is so much more to Erin’s story. Read it for yourself to find out.

Book trivia: Each section of Finding Freedom is separated by a place in Maine: Hope, Unity, Prospect, Liberty, and Freedom. If people are not familiar with rural Maine they might think she is talking about something entirely different.

Quote to quote, “I didn’t want to live a life where dollar amounts dictated dreams” (p 52). Amen to that. My father always told me, do what you love and love what you do. If you live within the means of your passion you will never want for anything.

Playlist: Cesaria Evora, Billie Holiday, Miles Davis, Bette Midler’s “Baby of mine”, Stevie Nicks, the Sound of Music soundtrack, and Whitney Houston.

Maine in America

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Belanger, Pamela J. Maine in America: American Art at the Farnsworth Art Museum. The Farnsworth Art Museum, 2000.

Reason read: a gift from a dear friend.

There is something to be said for the romance of the sea, especially when that sea is off the coast of Maine. The art of the Farnsworth is nostalgic and home all at once to me. It has been cool to learn more about my hometown. I never knew there was a failed art school on the island. Not all of the art in Maine in America focuses on the ocean or even Maine. Places like Glouster, Massachusetts and the wilderness of New Hampshire are appropriately represented. Thanks to Maine in America I think of the creation of art differently. I never thought about how artistis perferred different weathers for different sceneries and landscapes. It will be interesting to return to the Farnsworth Museum and view the art in a different way.
As an aside, I also have to wonder, where did Samuel Peter Rolt Tricott live on Monhegan? What about the Robert Henri House? I am fascinating to think there were different roads on Monhegan that are now completely obscured by overgrowth.

I have a degree of separation to Rockwell Kent besides growing up in a neighboring house. He took painting classes at Shinnecock Hills on Long Island. My grandmother has a connection to Shinnecock as well.

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

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Vuong, Ocean. On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous. New York: Penguin Press, 2019.

Reason read: Are you holding onto your hats? Are you sitting down? I’m going off the Challenge list for this one. Why? Basically, I will read everything my sister recommends. Why? She’s cool and she doesn’t waste her time with boring books.

Is it enough to say that On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous is heartbreakingly beautiful? I could go on to elaborate: the language is harsh yet poignant, stark yet lush, truthful yet magical. Little Dog writes a letter to his mother to…what? Explain his choices? Tell her how her life has shaped his? Make a declaration of love to the world around him? His motives are unclear, but the language stirs the heart. For example, the imagery of a lighthouse: seen as both shelter and warning. Could a woman be both monster and mother?

Lines I loved: “We sidestep ourselves in order to move forward” (p 53). If I were a lecturer and I had actually coined that phrase I would repeat it and ask the audience to let the words sink in. There is more truth in those eight little words than I care to admit. One more to quote, “Maybe we look in mirrors not merely to seek beauty, regardless of how illusive, but to make sure, despite the facts, that we are still here” (p 138).

Book trivia: this should be a movie. Seriously. For something completely random, Vuong thanked Frank Ocean. I am wondering if this is the same Frank Ocean Dermot Kennedy thanked for the song, “Swim Good.”

Author fact: According to the back flap of On Earth… Vuong lived in Northampton in 2019. I am not a stalker so I don’t know if that’s still true. If it is, this author is less than 30 minutes from me. Cool. In a more widely (undisputed) fact, Vuong is a poet which is abundantly obvious in On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous.

Playlist: Khanh Ly, Neil Young, 50 Cent, Etta James, Curtis Jackson, Chopin, Justin Timberlake, Miles Davis, Black Eyed Peas’ “Where is the Love?,” Led Zeppelin’s “Get Rich, or Die Tryin’,” “His Eye Is On the Sparrow,” “This Little Light of Mine,” and “Old MacDonald Had a Farm.”