Tag: motherhood

Life Among the Savages

gr4c5Leave a comment

Jackson, Shirley. Life Among the Savages. Narrated by Lesa Lockford. Dreamscape Media, 2015.
Jackson, Shirley. Life Among the Savages. Farrar, Straus and Young, 1953.

Reason read: December is Jackson’s birth month. Read in her honor.

This is a delightful series of essays about being a mother and wife in a large family. Jackson has four children in a very chaotic home. She attacks each subject whether it be education, childbirth, failings of the furnace and automobile or life with a cat with wit, sarcasm, humor, and humility. This was a great way to pass a rainy afternoon. I look forward to her other nonfictions as well as the fiction on my list.
Confessional: There were times I wanted to strangle her children but refrained from throwing the book across the room when I realized there potentially could be a fair amount of exaggeration in Jackson’s descriptions.

Author fact: Pearl misfiled Life Among the Savages under ghost stories because Jackson also wrote the very creepy short story “the Lottery.”

Book trivia: try to find the version with Lesa Lockford as narrator. It is fantastic.

Music: “Joy to the world,” and “O Come, All Ye Faithful.”

BookLust Twist: from Book Lust in the odd chapter called “Ghost Stories” (p 100). I say odd because Life Among Savages is not a ghost story. It is just mentioned because Jackson did write a scary story or two.

I Thought I Had You Forever

gr4c5Leave a comment

Gary’s Mum. I Thought I Had You Forever. Publish Nation, 2025.

Reason read: As a member of the Early Review Program for LibraryThing, I often read books that grab my heart and do not let go. This is one such book.

Gary’s mum lost her son when he was just thirty years old. While on vacation in Portugal Gary went to sleep one night and never woke up. For the first fifty pages of I Thought I Had You Forever Gary’s mum does a great deal of soul searching. There is a brief and didactic interlude (about ten pages) about various religions: Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism, Spiritualism, and Atheist.
I have always compared grief to fire. You cannot control grief just as you cannot control a fire that has burned out of control. Both are unpredictable and ever-changing. Just when you think you have grief (or fire) licked, something will trigger a flare up and the fight starts all over again. Grief can be a rollercoaster of up and down emotions. Grief can leave you drifting without purpose. Grief is the rudder, always determining your course of healing. Grief is searching. Where did you go? Where are you now?
Confessional: I am not a mother. I do not know the pain of losing a child in any capacity, yet I Thought I Had You Forever kept me up at night. We all grieve differently. Gary’s mum lost her ability to enjoy music for nearly five years while I clung to every note and melody and lyric to keep my missing alive. Gary’s mum didn’t listen to music for four years while I couldn’t play mine loud enough.

The lesson learned is grief is grief is grief is grief. It does not matter what the relationship. Losing someone is hard.

Author fact: Gary’s mum wrote I Thought I Had You Forever “from one mother to another.”

Music: “Buffalo Soldier,” John Lennon, Jimi Hendrix, and David Bowie.

Raised by a Narcissist

gr4c5Leave a comment

Bennett, Serena. Raised By a Narcissist: That Woman, AKA My Mother. Read by Jasmine Morentin.

Reason read: as a member of the Early Review Program for LibraryThing, I am privileged to read (or listen to) interesting books. This is one such story.

In March 2024 Serena Bennett decided she needed to tell her story in order to take her healing from childhood trauma to the next level. In addition to therapy, by writing a book, Bennett was able to confront truths that had been long-hidden. Her story could be considered tragic and yet there is an element of self-discovery and triumph; a phoenix rising from the ashes. She grew up with a mother who belittled, criticized, and failed to display any kind of physical affection. Her mother did not know how to nurture a child at her most formative stages. Bennett grew up with verbal and physical abuse from a woman who cared more about being right and being in control at all times.
There is so much more potential to Raised By a Narcissist. I was struck by how short and not sweet this book turned out. It dropped bombshells (“I was raped”) and moved on without fanfare. The book ended much sooner than I expected. The premise is brilliant: each chapter begins with an intelligent quote and ends with the lesson learned. Each chapter has the potential to show the reader more personal growth and healing. I use the word potential because Bennett’s stories about her mother are disjointed and confusing at times. For example, she tells the story of going to a church party and getting drunk but does not share what happened next. Because it was an audio book, I rewound the section a couple of times to make sure I didn’t miss anything.
I would have liked to learn more about Bennett as a person. I was hoping for a deeper connection with her as a survivor of trauma. While I shared similar battles with my mother, her story would have carried even more weight had I been able to get to know her better.
Confessional: there is a workbook that came with the audio. I have yet to crack it open.

No More Words

gr4c5Leave a comment

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.

Kennedy’s Brain

gr4c5Leave a comment

Mankell, Henning. Kennedy’s Brain.

Reason read: October is national crime month.

Tragedy trails Louise like an unwanted stray dog. She lost her mother when she was only six years old. She has all but lost her father to grief and alcohol in the years since her mother’s tragic accident. Louise’s marriage vanished into thin air and for the last twenty-plus years she has barely seen her ex-husband, despite having a son together. She barely believes Aron exists. Now, she is facing the unexplained demise of her only son, Herik, found dead in his bed. Like Verona in The Perfect Daughter by Gillian Linscott, Henrik is found with a belly full of drugs, and with no visible signs of foul play, his death is deemed a suicide. And like Nell in The Perfect Daughter, Louise cannot find truth the forensic evidence. She refuses to believe her only son committed suicide. So begins an epic journey to uncovered what really happened to Henrik. From Athens to Barcelona and Mozambique, Louise hunts for explanations.
My one complaint about Kennedy’s Brain was the unnatural dialogue between characters. I know Mankell is using his characters to fill historical background and give context to current situations, but they, the characters, offer way more information than is realistic in their conversations. Maybe something is lost in the translation? Here is an example, Adelinho accuses Ricardo of talking too much but when speaking of his friend, Guiseppe, Adelinho reveals Guiseppe is Italian, is friendly, and visits now and then. Adelinho also says Guiseppe likes the solitude, is responsible for the navvies building roads, likes to get drunk, and goes back to Maputo every month. Why tell a stranger all of this? Another example, Lucinda, dying of AIDS needs to tell Louise something important, but she says she is tired. She’ll share the rest when she has rested. She then goes on to talk about a few other things of little consequence.

As an aside, I had trouble with Louise’s character. What archaeologist injures herself on a shard of pottery uncovered at a dig site and why is she allowed to keep the shard as a gift for her son? That didn’t sit right with me.

Line I Liked, “The horrors in store left no warning” (p 120).

Author fact: Mankell was only 67 years old when he passed away.

Book trivia: Kennedy’s Brain was made into a Swedish movie. We watched a trailer for it and my husband was not impressed.

Playlist: Bach. Note: there was a lot of music in Kennedy’s Brain but nothing specific that I could add here.

BookLust Twist: from Book Lust To Go in the chapter called “Swede(n), Isn’t It?” (p 222).

Feral Creatures in Suburbia

gr4c5Leave a comment

Liebhart, D. Feral Creatures in Suburbia. 9:25 books, 2024.

Reason read: an Early Review book from LibraryThing.

A single mother trying to wrangle a violent teenage son, a girl trying to cope with intense school bullying threatens suicide enough times to land herself in a psych ward, employers abusing drugs, a doctor battling two aggressive cancers; we have all been there before. We have all had bullies at one time or another. We know people with incurable diseases or inconsiderate neighbors. We have all known a deep and abiding love. Secrets, miscommunications, assumptions, jealousies, they are common to us all.
Even though each chapter was in the voice of a different character I kept getting them confused. The chapters were short which didn’t give me a lot of time to get to know and fully absorb each person.
A small disappointment was the ability to only get inside Myra’s head. She was the only teenager with her own voice. We also got to see life from her mother’s point of view. Why not add Logan’s voice in contrast to his mother, Julie’s? Not knowing Logan’s motives kept assumptions at an all time high. Maybe Liebhart wanted it that way, considering the end.

The episode with the not broken-no wait-broken arm was curious.

Music: Chopin, Vivaldi, Black Sabbath, and Ozzy Osbourne.

Night Garden: of My Mother

gr4c51 Comment

Tyler, Sandra. The Night Garden: of My Mother. Pierian Springs Press, 2024.

Reason read: I am a member of the Early Review Program for LibraryThing. This is a book I specifically requested because of my current situation.

Sandra Tyler’s The Night Garden is thought-provoking and heart-wrenching. For any daughter sandwiched between being a mother and being motherly to her own mother, this is a must read. Read it before you are in that moment as a guide for the times to come. And come they will. Read it during the struggles and you will nod in agreement every time you turn the page. Read it afterward your mother is gone and you will look back at the bittersweet memories and maybe smile, just a little. There is truth on every page. There is humor to Tyler’s story, too.
I do not have children and I will never know the balance of caring for two different generations, but I do know the slow building sadness that bubbles within while watching your mother age. The little things you took for granted will become monumental heartbreaks. When a loved one disowns you, it is hard to not take it personally because you are also busy refusing to believe they no longer know what they are saying. It takes strength to realize you cannot have it both ways – sharp intellect in contrast to a mind lost to dementia. When Tyler’s mother had to relinquish her drivers license my heart cracked in half (although my own mother has never owned a license to operate an automobile). Another piece of identity drowned.
Be forewarned – Night Garden might start you thinking about your own mortality. Tyler evokes the poem “Spring and Fall to a Young Child” by Gerard Manley Hopkins without even trying. I found myself asking “When do you do if you know it is your last (danced, movie, fill in the blank)?” Would you rather know the exact date and time of your demise or not? What about the angel date of a loved one? Would you be okay knowing, “This is my last dinner with you. Ever.”?

Tyler is just a little younger than me when she describes her relationship with her mother. Her mother married when she was in her 40s while my mother had me at 19. Even still, all throughout the story I was having these little “that could be me” moments. Our mothers complained about phones. They were both artists. They were both widowed early in their lives. I felt the helplessness when Tyler described waiting for her mother to get to the point. There is that sinking feeling when you inevitably realize, twenty minute later, that there wasn’t one. If there had ever been a point it had been lost under tons of verbal garbage. When taken-for-granted routines become unwieldy and cumbersome. Things that used to take five minutes become forever minutes. I think the first time I recognized something was wrong with my mother was when we were getting ready for a show. She knew the time to be ready and yet, when the driver arrived, she was still in just her pantyhose and blouse. No skirt. No shoes. Her hair a mess. Mom? What have you been doing for the last 45 minutes?

Music: Puccini’s Madame Butterfly, James Taylor, “From a Distance”, Judy Collins, and “Silent Night”.

Odd Woman

gr4c5Leave a comment

Godwin, Gail. The Odd Woman. Ballantine Books, 1974.

Reason read: I needed a book for the Portland Public Library Reading challenge in the category of a book that takes place in the Midwest. The Odd Woman opens in a midwestern town. This is also a companion read for another book I am reading in honor of Mother’s Day.

On the outside, Jane Clifford has everything going for her. She is a respected professor, teaching Women in Literature (the British section) at a Midwestern college, but secretly Jane is a neurotic mess. She lives vicariously through the beloved characters of literature; every character is either a friend or a mentor or a villain. She gets all of her advice from these imaginary people. Poor Jane doesn’t know how to relate to people in the real world, especially her own mother. The death of her stylish grandmother sends Jane down upsetting memory lanes especially when she returns to her childhood home for the funeral.
To make matters worse, Jane’s love life revolves around a married man who has no plans to leave his wife. Gabriel patronizes Jane by being controlling and condescending and like a good girl, she puts up with it. He gently admonishes and corrects and chides. Pay attention to the language Godwin uses about Gabriel and his hands. He is always “trapping” Jane’s hand in his own. He holds all the cards because he is the married one.
In the end I didn’t know whether to cheer on Jane or cry for her.

Quotes that had me thinking for days, “If Jane Austen were putting me in a novel, how would she define me?” (p 27), and “Jane, face it: we are all just basically neurotic creatures trying to get through our days and nights” (p 46).

Author fact: Gail Godwin reported for the Miami Herald.

Book trivia: The Odd Woman is a bit dated. Written when flying meant you could sit wherever you wanted and planes had magazine racks.

Playlist: Mozart, Al Martino’s “Here in My Heart”, Glenn Miller’s “Little Brown Jug”, The Ink Spots’ “If I Didn’t Care”, and Nat King Cole’s “Somewhere Along the Way”.

Nancy said: Not only did Pearl suggest reading The Odd Women and The Odd Woman together as “companion reads, Godwin practically insisted upon it as well, albeit in a much more subtle manner. I found it a disappointment to do so. In The Odd Woman Godwin revealed a spoiler in The Odd Women that I wasn’t prepared to absorb. I did not want to know Monica died.

BookLust Twist: from Book Lust in the chapter called “Companion Reads” (p 62) because Jane in Odd Woman is using George Gissing’s Odd Women in her Women in Literature class. Also in the chapter called “Mothers and Daughters” (p 159).

Learning to Swim

gr4c5Leave a comment

Dugan, Shayla. Learning to Swim. Egret Lake Books, 2024.

Reason read: as a member of the Early Review Program for LibraryThing, I get to read some pretty cool books. This is one of them.

Coming off of reading It Was Her New York by Moen, I thought Learning to Swim would be a hard act to follow. The premises appeared to be similar: daughters taking care of their mothers. But that is where the similarities end. Whereas Moen’s story is gritty nonfiction, Dugan’s Learning to Swim tells the fictionalized story of the “sandwich” generation – a woman taking care of her child at the same time as taking care of her parent. Gabrielle moved back home to care for former Olympic swimmer mother, Ida, who needs bypass surgery. In stereotypical fashion the two have never really gotten along. At the same time Gabrielle has thoughtlessly dragged her thirteen year old daughter, Juniper, along completely uprooting her life as well. I don’t think it is a spoiler alert to say through learning to swim, grandmother, mother and daughter learn to accept each other. The ending of the book was very appropriate.
My only complaint is that Learning to Swim could have been a longer book. Dugan does such a great job sketching the characters and making them come alive. By giving them histories she creates depth, but she could have gone further with them. Here is an example: Gabrielle doesn’t know how she likes her eggs. It totally reminded me of a scene right out of Runaway Bride starring Julia Roberts. She didn’t know how she liked her eggs because she was too busy trying to please others. Here is a better example: Gabrielle’s half-brother Chad refused to step up to take care of his mother despite living closer. When he does finally enter the picture it is out of greed and exaggerated indifference to Gabrielle’s grief. Nothing explained the disconnect except to say that the half-siblings were not close growing up.

Character question – Ida’s mother died and wasn’t found for three days because Ida and her father were at an out of state swim meet. Were there no phones? Neither daughter nor husband thought to check in with the woman? At the very least wouldn’t they want to tell her how the meet was going?

As an aside, there was one line that had me scratching my head. Gabrielle said her patience gauge was at “437”. What exactly does that number mean? Have you ever read the poem by Shel Silverstein about the number of teeth in a wild boar’s mouth? The narrator calmly tells someone he will not be impressed by any number thrown at him because he doesn’t know anything about the number of teeth in a wild boar’s mouth. Same with the patience gauge at 437.

As another aside, I loved that someone ate a peanut butter and pickle sandwich. That is my all time favorite.

Book trivia: this was my first book with a AI disclaimer on training.

Turtle Moon

gr4c5Leave a comment

Hoffman, Alice. Turtle Moon. Berkley Trade, 1997.

Reason read: Alice Hoffman was born in the month of March. Read in her honor.

In a nutshell: a woman runs away from her abusive husband, taking her infant daughter to Florida. It is not a spoiler alert to say she doesn’t stay hidden for long and winds up dead. The daughter goes missing. Another woman in the same apartment complex has a surly son who has also gone missing. Police think this is not a coincidence. Now mom needs to find the identity of the murdered woman, find the missing baby, and clear her son’s name in the process. The magical realism in this story is an angel sitting up in a tree. This other-worldly figure of bright light doesn’t factor into the story all that much. As an aside (albeit a snarky one), another element of magical realism could be the jetlag Lucy claims to experience traveling from Florida to New York…which are in the same time zone.

Confessional: I am a stickler for human nature that makes sense. I didn’t get Julian Cash at all. I got Lucy Rosen even less. I’ll tackle Julian first. As a former foster kid, Julian is riddled by guilt over a car accident he survived, but his cousin did not. Hence the angel in the tree. Julian is now a K9 cop with very little to say. The chip on his shoulder is the size of a boulder. He has so many issues that he is described like an exaggerated caricature. As mentioned before, a young mother has been murdered and her under-two-year-old baby has gone missing. It’s up to Julian and his vicious dogs to find the infant. Except, Julian falls for Lucy and decides he needs to drive her car from Florida to New York. And speaking of Lucy. Her angsty son has been fingered for the crime so she figures the only way to clear his name is to find the real killer. She doesn’t know the baby-mama’s name but what a coincidence! She was married to someone Lucy went to high school with in upstate New York! The story really started to fall apart when Lucy traced her Florida neighbor back to her hometown because I didn’t care for Lucy’s treatment of her ex-husband, Evan. Evan has moved on and is even dating someone new, yet Lucy doesn’t see anything wrong with 1) staying with Evan, 2) borrowing his car (because remember, she left hers in Florida), 3) making Evan take her to their high school reunion (?!) even though he had plans to take the girlfriend), and 4) inviting Julian into Evan’s home to take a shower and have breakfast.

Lines I liked: none. I cannot quote without permission.

Author fact: I have officially finished the Hoffman collection within the Challenge: Blue Diary, Illumination Night, White Horses, and The Drowning Season join Turtle Moon on the finished shelf.

Playlist: Guns N’ Roses, and Vic Damone.

BookLust Twist: from Book Lust in the chapter called “A…is For Alice” (p 1).

It Was Her New York

gr4c5Leave a comment

Moed, C.O. It Was Her New York. Rootstock Publishing, 2024.

Reason read: this was an Early Review from LibraryThing.

Not even fifty years old, Moen is taking care of a mother who rarely recognizes them. Dementia is a cruel disease. Each chapter, each page of It was Her New York reminded me of the tiny whirlpools you see in rivers when the water swirls around jagged rocks and half submerged rotting tree limbs. The vortex of water only hints at what is happening below the surface. The obvious story is Moed’s juggling of taking care of their mother, Florence. The biting humor and loving sarcasm as if the woman was another item on an ever-growing chore list. The subtext is a keen sense of observation and a valiant effort to keep Moen’s sense of self. Around the edges is a portrait of society and sexuality, religion and relationships in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Every page is painted with loving care and uses all the colors. Although there are no traditional chapters and very few proper paragraphs, It Was Her New York packs a punch, especially anyone taking care a parent in the last stages of life. Does it make sense to say there is a warmth to their bite?
As a stubborn librarian who traditionally only borrows books the highest compliment I can pay a writer is to go out and buy their book. When it comes to It Was Her New York, I bought two.

Author fact: I loved Moed’s style of writing so much I want to chase down everything they have ever written.

Book trivia: reading It Was Her New York on my phone was almost a crime. The photographs are not big or bold and some are not even in focus. Instead they are gritty, soul-baring, and brutally honest.

Playlist: “Rock Steady” by Aretha Franklin, Bach, Basie, Beethoven, “Begin the Beguine”, Brahms, Chopin, Cole Porter’s “You’re the Top”, Coltrane, “Too Hot to Trot” by the Commodores, Debussy’s “Clair de Lune”, Duke, Ella, Getz, Linszt, Mozart, Sinatra, and Torme.

Lessons in Chemistry

gr4c5Leave a comment

Garmus, Bonnie. Lessons in Chemistry. Read by Amanda Raison. AudioBook, 2022.

Reason read: while on a boat ride a friend suggested this book.

Preface: I honestly feel Lessons in Chemistry would be more relatable if everyone read a little Betty Friedan or Marilyn French beforehand. Friedan was a feminist who published The Feminine Mystique in the early 1960s and French came later with The Women’s Room. Both books articulate the feminist movement around the same time as Lessons in Chemistry. Elizabeth Zott is an uncompromising, quirky, brilliant chemist. Because this is the late 1950s, she can’t taken seriously as a scientist. She is a woman after all, and all women belong in the kitchen. Which, ironically, is where Zott ends up making her initial mark on society. This is a story about how your past can shape your future. Elizabeth is born to religious charlatan parents. Fraudulent scam artists. From this embarrassing upbringing Elizabeth promises to always be truthful to her illegitimate child. And speaking of Mad, I loved Zott’s precocious child who was named after the cookies from Proust’s Remembrance of Thing Past. My favorite character, and probably the best character is 6:30, the remarkable dog who understands nearly 1,000 words in the English language. Lessons in Chemistry is fun. Don’t overanalyze it. Have a good time with it. And if you listen to the audio version, try to ignore Raison’s weird accent for one of the characters.

As an aside, I just finished reading Proust’s romans-flueve and had to laugh when Mad wondered about Krakatoa and if it would erupt again anytime soon. I, too, am reading about Krakatoa.

Author fact: Garmus took all her chemistry knowledge from a 1950s textbook in order to have complete accuracy for the time period.

Book trivia: I just learned Lessons in Chemistry will be a television series this fall. Interesting. Will I watch? Of course I will.

Playlist: Frank Sinatra and “Keep On the Sunny Side of Life”.

Lungfish

gr4c5Leave a comment

Gillis, Meghan. Lungfish. Catapult, 2022.

Reason read: This was a Christmas gift from my sister. I read everything she sends my way.

Have you ever seen a race horse struggle to restrain its awesome power? Or a runner who can easily put the pedal to the metal, but has hold back in an effort to race smart? This is the way I felt reading Lungfish. Deceptively simple passages in incredibly short chapters made me want to speed-read; to buzz through the sentences at a hundred pages a minute. To do that would be to miss the scenery of gorgeous language flashing by. To not slow down and savor the smart language would be to deprive myself of one of the best books of the year. Yes, I know it’s only early 2023. But. But! But, that’s my prediction and I’m sticking with it.
Lungfish oozes mystery. There is a hinting of things. What is wrong with Paul? The use of the word “better” implies there is something worse. You shouldn’t think of the word ‘trickery’ that could at play, yet you do. You do. Is the narrator asking Paul to improve a behavior? Be a better person? Or is it his health? The possibility he could be better at something hangs heavy. Especially when a word like perfunctory is used to describe a kiss between two people in a relationship. Then consider the act of hiding from the law. Questioning what happens when the executor arrives. What is that all about? The narrative does not speak in linear terms, only winding and twisting innuendo, slippery as seaweed newly exposed by the outgoing tide. Early on there is an unexplained sadness that permeates the entire story, the way a thick fog will dampen a wool sweater to a newfound heaviness. You want the fog to lift, the sunshine to come streaming in, and loud laughter to break the silence.
Instead, we as readers circle the plot in a strange swaying dance, like a slow moving game of musical chairs. Only when the song comes to an abrupt halt, we grab for the final sentence and wait for the silence to end so we can read on. Careful not to slip on the seaweed of secrets.

Lines I loved, “He puts his hands on my shoulders, from behind, and I sit like a stone” (p 123). Unmoving. Unfeeling, Cold, Hard. Colorless. These are the words of a stone. Here’s another, “The box contained three sets and I’d used them all, in part because I didn’t trust the way I peed on them” (p 165). O can relate to the permeation of doubt that becomes pervasive.

Playlist: “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” by the Rolling Stones.

Midwives

gr4c5Leave a comment

Bohjalian, Chris. Midwives. Vintage Contemporaries, 1997.

Reason read: Chief Justice John Jay was born in the month of December.

Imagine anything and everything that can go wrong when trying to midwife a birth: there are complications with an at-home pregnancy in rural Vermont; a storm rages; phones go out and roads are impossibly icy; the midwife’s assistant is inexperienced and immature. The husband freezes, struck and stuck immobile with fear. These are the days before cell phones and computer communications. No VoIP, no texting, no Googling how to perform a cesarean or how to stop a woman with high blood pressure from having a cerebral hemorrhage. There is no way to go for help when this same exhausted woman starts bleeding to death after hours and hours of trying to give birth to a second child. A desperate situation calls for desperate measures and seasoned veteran midwife Sibyl Danforth makes a decision to perform an emergency cesarean on this mother. Months later, at her trial for manslaughter, she will tell the court she believed the mother had died. Was it a necessary action or did Sibyl commit callous unthinkable murder? As with all suspicious deaths, Sibyl must be tried in front of a jury of her peers, all the while battling traditional medical opinions and an overzealous community ripe for justice. The midwife culture is one of hippies, people who buck the system and thumb their noses at modern medicine. Midwives give off the vibe they lounge around buck naked while smoking pot. Told from the perspective of Sibyl’s daughter, thirty year old Connie Danforth looks back on her mother’s horrific choice and the subsequent trial that followed.

As an aside, I found myself gritting my teeth through the more difficult sections.

Author fact: Bohjalian also wrote Water Witches. I read that back on April 2010.

Book trivia: Each chapter is introduced with an entry from Sibyl Danforth’s journal.

Playlist: Abba, the Shirelles, Joni Michell, and Janis Joplin,

Nancy said: Pearl called Midwives a remarkable mother-daughter novel, yet it is not included in the “Mothers and Daughters” chapter of Book Lust on page 159.

BookLust Twist: from Book Lust in the chapter called “What a Trial That Was!” (p 243).

Namaste the Hard Way

gr4c5Leave a comment

Brown-Warsham, Sasha. Namaste the Hard Way: a Daughter’s Journey to Find Her Mother on the Yoga Mat. Health Communications, 2018.

Reason read: I was supposed to receive Namaste the Hard Way back in 2018 as part of the Early Review program for LibraryThing. The book never arrived, but the entry stayed on my spreadsheet. I had this urge to clean up unfinished entries.

In a nutshell, Namaste the Hard Way is a very candid look at what it means to lose your parent at a young age and never fully recover from the trauma. Brown-Warsham admits that she finds herself closest to her mother’s spirit when she is practicing yoga. But. But, it is more than that. When Brown-Warsham becomes a mother she finds a different connection to her mother. Her marriage is a means to connect with her mother. Any familiar path Brown-Warsham takes is one that leads her to memories of her mother. Her vulnerability and honesty was touching. Confessional: the entire time I was reading Namaste the Hard Way I was filled with a sense of envy. Brown-Warsham lost her mother to cancer at a young age and yet she has something tangible to bring her mother’s memory into sharp focus: yoga. I lost my father halfway through my twenty-third year. The smell of motor oil and scorched metal from arc welding can bring back memories my father, but unless I hang out all day in a repair shop, I can’t evoke the nostalgia as easily as Brown-Warsham can. All she has to do is practice yoga.

It was surreal to read about Kripalu, it being just down the road from me and, and! And. I know people who used to work there.

Lines I liked, “Running is not for sissies” (p 149). When Sasha started talking about running I practically stood up and cheered. I am not a practicing yogi (aside from what is recommended after a super hard run), but when she talked abut shedding blood at the chaffing points of her sports bra I said a silent “yes!” in agreement. I concur! Best line about running, “I’ve given up the running I so loved because I’d never forgive myself if the baby were jostled and had shaken baby syndrome or if he or she fell out of the warm, safe sac into my underpants because I attempted to run seven miles” (p 198).

Playlist: “Eye of the Tiger,” “Kiss,” “Thriller,” “You Light Up My Life” by Debbie Boone, “Like a Virgin” by Madonna, James Taylor, and the “Wiffenpoof” Yale Song.