Apparently, today is World Book Day. I didn’t know this was a thing but, as an avid reader, this seems like a good day to post about what I’ve been diving into so far in 2019.
This book was like a meandering dream, weaving in and out of place and time, characters familiar and strange, each drawn and returning to a beloved house along the river. It’s an ode to home, and one in particular, currently occupied by a lovely ghost.
I liked the book while between its cover but, as I shut them, I felt disappointed. Some of it was too predictable, some threads too neatly tied while others were left to dangle. I guess I felt like I simply woke up from the dream.
“He would never see her again. And yet he wished he could have told her that he’d lost his way, too. He’d lost his way, but hope still fluttered in and out of focus like a bird, singing that if he kept putting one foot in front of the other, he might just make it home” (261).
“Home…the perfunctory description accorded the building in which one currently resides, but also the warm, rounded name used to describe the place from which ultimate comfort and safety is derived” (310).
I hit a total reading slump and needed a light bit of chick-lit to jump start me out of it. This did the trick.
I’ve read most of Kinsella’s books, with some clearly rising to the top (Can You Keep a Secret? or Remember Me?). This one feels more emotionally mature than all the others combined while still maintaining the meet-cute/rom-com strategy that clearly works for her. I appreciated the emotional growth a whole family experiences as our heroine questions her long-held beliefs and pays down her own emotional debts.
I finished this novel (based on the authors’ real-life experience) about walking the Chemin/Camino through France to Spain feeling much as I did after reading Cheryl Strayed’s Wild about hiking the Pacific Crest Trail from California to Oregon–I want to undertake a long walk!
If you know me, that probably sounds both surprising and true. I am not the fittest tool in the shed, and I am one to undertake crazy adventures for the sake of spiritual discipline.
I enjoyed the back-and-forth between female and male characters on the trail, both the main characters and the many they encounter along the way. Watching how their physical quest allowed their emotional/spiritual quest to…”unravel” isn’t quite the right word, because, though unraveling did occur, they arrived at a more enlightened place….so, whatever it did, it kept me turning pages to grow with the characters.
“The Chemin will change you…” or “The Chemin walks you…” – both were offered as predictions of what would occur. Both did. And I feel just a little like I’ve been changed as well.
Now, which of the many world-wide walks will call to me? I can’t wait to find out!
As she wished her father, who wrote a lot of knowledge but not much truth, had written a book of all the truth he could pass on to her, here Lamott attempts to write down all the truth she can pass down to her grandson and niece. And, by extension, us. As such, it’s a little haphazard, hit and miss. But then, such is life, and I’m so grateful Anne keeps plugging away at her computer, butt in chair, writing shitty first drafts that eventually come to us, cleaned up but still imperfect. Who of us can hope to do more?
“That we are designed for joy is exhilarating, within reach, now or perhaps later today, after a nap, as long as we do not mistake excitement for joy. Joy is good cheer…. Joy is always a surprise, and often a decision.
“Joy is portable. Joy is a habit, and these days, it can be a radical act.” 56
“Reading and writing help us take the blinders off so we can look around and say ‘Wow,’ so we can look at life and our lives with care, and curiosity, and attention to detail, which are what will make us happy and less afraid.” 99
“…more than anything, stories hold us together. Stories teach us what is important about life, why we are here and how it is best to behave, and that inside us we have access to treasure, in memories and observations, in imagination.” 179
“‘Why?’ is rarely a useful question in the hope business.” 183
“Life is way wilder than I am comfortable with, way farther out, as we used to say, more magnificent, more deserving of awe and, I would add, more benevolent–well-meaning, kindly….
“We have all we need to come through. Against all odds, no matter what we’ve lost, no matter what messes we’ve made over time, no matter how dark the night, we offer and are offered kindness, soul, light, and food, which create breath and spaciousness, which create hope, sufficient unto the day.” 189
Brilliant! A feminist manifesto in story form, this book covers just about everything related to what is to be alive and a woman at this point in history. Smart, but not hit-you-over-the-head, not at all preachy, just great storytelling.
I snatched this off the library’s Lucky Day shelf having heard nothing about it. I let it sit until right before it was due, intuiting that it would be a quick but painful read. It’s an illustrated poem, a letter from father to young son, but it’s not a children’s book. Even though I had not yet read the author’s statement, throughout I couldn’t help but remember the images of the 3yo boy who drowned trying to escape Syria’s war. Little Alan Kurdi was, in fact, the child the author had in mind as he wrote. This book is beautifully written and illustrated, and I can imagine a middle school or high school English or social studies teacher reading it aloud to the class to help them imagine what that life would be like, leaving everything behind and risking everything in hope of escaping the horrors that people inflict upon each other.
Not at all what I expected, and far more intense. Nine strangers, all with their own backstory baggage, meet at a health resort for a ten-day restorative retreat that quickly turns more than unconventional. I enjoyed the romp, though it will make me think twice about signing up for something like this. I’ll get healthy on my own, thanks very much, minus the strangers and shamans.