BOOK 3 - Prodigal Summer - Barbara Kingsolver

Why I chose this book? This one was a spur-of-the-moment choice, having realised my first suggestion just wasn't right. I scanned across my bookshelves and felt sure that Esther would enjoy reading this one. Esther's right to point out that it shares some themes with my other suggestion so far - nature, the call of the wild, rejection of mainstream society: I guess these are the sorts of things that are preoccupying me at present, as well as being the sort of ground we've rambled over in our non-book talk too. I'm pretty confident, though, that these themes are entirely absent from my next choice, Wonder by R.J. Palacio, so that's alright!

It's a proper feel-good American apple-pie novel. Almost without exception, even the  worst characters win your sympathy, even affection, in the end. And I think that's a good corrective to the cynicism that's all around us: of course some people are real sods, but it's good for us, good for our souls, to try and find the good, the vulnerable, in people, and love them for it. Naive, yes, but wouldn't you rather be naive than world-weary and hateful?

What else did I like? Well, it's a proper celebration of womanhood, and the wonder of the female body. Perhaps she over-states it a bit - I am sure I've never had men circling round me like moths to a flame just because I was ovulating - but it's a reminder to be more in touch with our animal bodies. And I loved the character of Nannie Rawley, as an older woman who is so comfortable in her ageing body and soul that - yep, moths again - she draws all sorts of folks towards her to enjoy her warm-hearted company. That's something to aspire to in old age: to be the kind of person who still lights up a room and a conversation, rather than - like a character in another book I've just read - having "diminished in physical beauty without adding to their spiritual stature". From what I've heard of it, I think that theme might be coming up again in Esther's next suggestion, Tuesdays with Morrie?

BOOK 2 - Trumpet by Jackie Kay

Why did I choose Trumpet by Jackie Kay?  I can’t honestly say… I read the book about 10 years ago and something about it has always stayed with me, so it was the first one that came to mind when it was my turn to choose.  I should have read it again but being a new mum I didn’t set aside the time and so relied on Ruth’s thoughts to trigger my memories while we were discussing it.

What I remembered was the truly beautiful portrayal of love.  The sense that everything can be overcome with love.  Regardless of faith, gender, nationality, sexual orientation, political or cultural belief.  True love for another is without boundary, it’s simple, beautiful, even in and after death there is beauty and blessing. 

  

It is a tender, moving story, simply told with charming phrasing. It’s written with a lyrical tone and since reading it I have found out that it was Kay’s intention to write the book as if it were a piece of music… which is subtle but clear when you look back. 

The book is desperately sad and yet comforting.  It’s lovely.  I thoroughly recommend it.


R's Response ....

This is what I love about being in a book group - you get to discover books that you'd never find otherwise. Books you missed when they were first published, and which now if you did see them on a shelf in a bookshop you'd have no reason to suspect there was such a precious thing inside. I often get tormented by that in bookshops - thinking of the few special books there must be hidden in there among the big shots and knock-offs, and I don't know which they are!

It's not a masterpiece - but it has a real charm. When Esther told me the author had written it as if it were a piece of music that made perfect sense: there's a sort of spareness to the characterisation - she doesn't add loads of extra, contradictory details to create the illusion of realism, but lets each character stand as a sort of archetype of love, or spite, or whatever - and it does feel like opera or something, offering a different kind of truthfulness than a more "realistic" characterisation. And as the story unfolds, the mood of the book does lift and swoop in a really controlled way, just like a great piece of music. I can't really describe what I mean, but I liked it!

What's stayed with me is this image of a deep and certain love. The central couple's particular circumstances (which I won't give away) give Millie a very concrete reason for knowing that Joss will never, ever leave her - but still, the certainty that he will always love her is about the two of them and not just the peculiarity of their situation. What a wonderful thing, to be so secure, so certain of being loved entirely and wholly and for ever!

Finally, as any good book should, I felt it gave me a glimpse into a part of life I've yet to experience. In this case, mourning and grief: Millie says the trouble is not that a part of her has died, but that a part of her is still alive. It's honest, and tender and - I suspect - very true.

BOOK 1 - Into the Wild by John Krakauer

Why I chose it: 

This is a book that really moved me, and still moves me now. Of course really it's Christopher McCandless himself that moved me, but Jon Krakauer I think is a really great writer. As you know, I have a passion for climbing books, which is Krakauer's usual topic, and he's way better than the rest, more thoughtful, allowing me as a non-climber to glimpse what it means to climb. He handles Christopher's story so sensitively, he doesn't "make a story" of it in the way journalists often do, turning someone's real lived life into a simplistic cautionary tale, or a "tragedy". He doesn't dictate how the reader should interpret it, or what they should take away from it, but narrates what he's learned of Chris's life, sympathetically and respectfully, and lets the reader respond according to their own perspective. 

My own response was made keener by the parallels with my own brother, another young man who has found it difficult to knuckle down and slot in to modern consumer society, and was monstrous to his parents along the way. But more than that, it spoke to my own longing to find my own way in the world, to my horror of suburbia, conformity and materialism. Christopher (like my brother) took a bold step when I shied away. I've only dabbled in alternatives, only made small gestures towards the impulse to give – and give away – that was so strong in him. I really admire him for following his principles through to their conclusion. And I still hope I'll find opportunity in my life for some bold steps one day.

I do find his story desperately sad, because (and I'm aware that this is what I want to believe because I want to believe it's possible for me too) it seems it all went wrong just at the very moment he was beginning to reconcile his longing for the wild with the human need for companionship. I want to believe that, had he lived, he would have found a way to live in society, without being cowed by it, and that he would have done something wonderful in it. Perhaps I'm wrong, and he would have ended up being embittered, cynical or – to put it harshly – second-rate: he'd have mellowed with the years and become conventional, compromising, boring, his experiences in the wild just an adolescent adventure rather than subject for a book. As it is, he remains ever young, poised on the precipice of life, at that wonderful moment when the whole world's before you and you feel you can decide who you're going to be. I think sometimes the young make the best philosophers, because they are able to be bolder with life. I've been reading Thoreau's Walden recently, and he's so similar to Christopher, a young man with no responsibilities beyond himself who thinks everyone should live as he does and can't comprehend how family life changes things. They're unrealistic, and the criticisms they hurl at the rest of us are often unfair, but we still need to hear what they have to say because it reminds us to keep testing the boundaries of our own lives and finding what room there is left us for adventure and exploration.

E's response - What I thought....

Initially I thought "Oh no, I'm not sure I'm going to get much from this" but as the book progressed it crept into my thinking more and more.  I have been to Alaska and have felt the power of it's vastness, if only for a brief time, which made the book even more visceral.  And being a new mum I felt the torment of Christopher's mother very strongly.  
It was a deeply moving account but overridingly I felt there was a great sense of hope in Christopher's story, in his plight.... that at the end he knew he was dying but he had come to accept it as part of his journey, part of the natural process of things and that, in its self, is a beautiful gift for his mother and family and indeed all of us.

Bookends - just for two!

Well, this is the beginning of Bookends - the Bookclub for just two people. (But we are sharing the love with a blog).

We are going to be writing about the books we've read and the discussions they provoke... as well as eat cake, drink, perhaps, a little glass of wine or cider and generally relax and enjoy the company of a fellow mother and splendid person.