Beach Music, by Pat Conroy

As you know, Pat Conroy is one of my favorite "newly-discovered" authors. My only disappointment with this novel was that it shared so many similarities with the last one. It reminded me of The Prince of Tides in that: 

- it was written from the perspective of an adult son who has a complicated relationship with his family members

- the narrator and his brothers all have the same personality/sense of humor as the narrator in The Prince of Tides 

- we are made to both resent and feel sympathetic toward the narrator's parents

- the bulk of the plot takes place in the South 

- depression and suicide leave indelible marks on the main characters

And while maybe this list of similarities seems insignificant enough in an 800 page book, I often did feel like I was reading something I had already read. Still, I was engaged enough in the plot to read the entire novel and really enjoy it. I love finding an author that writes well consistently, and I would still include Conroy in this category. 

Beach Music (published by Bantam Books in 1995) begins in Rome, where the narrator (Jack) and his young daughter, Leah, now live. The girl's mother, Shyla, committed suicide after a lonely and tormented life, and throughout the novel we are introduced to the reasons behind her torment, namely the stories of her parents' experiences during the Holocaust that endlessly haunted her in dreams and hallucinations. When Jack hears that his mother is dying back home in the South, he and Leah make the journey home for the first time since Shyla's death. It is here that Leah is introduced to a culture she is completely unfamiliar with, while Jack begins the long process of reconciliation with a family and group of friends that had been torn apart years before. 

To Full Term, by Darci Klein

I accidentally stumbled upon this book at Half Price Books last weekend, and ended up reading it in a day. Published by Berkley in 2007, this memoir is a by a mother of six: 1 living baby that was born premature prior to 30 weeks gestation and spent two months in the NICU, 2 babies that were miscarried, a set of twins that was born too premature to save, and finally, 1 baby that was born full term. 

In To Full Term, Darci discusses the importance of fighting for preventative medical testing, even though it's taboo among much of the medical community. Today, obstetric guidelines say a mother needs to have lost at least two babies to miscarriage in order to have a simple blood test performed to check for genetic disorders. On a personal note, I was fortunate to be able to have this testing done after one second trimester miscarriage; but I had to demand it. It was not offered to me, and wouldn't have been if I hadn't done some research on my own and suspected a problem. Now, hopefully, knowing what I do about the disorder I have, future miscarriages may be more preventable. Unfortunately, Darci did not know to fight for this testing until after the death of her twins, and testing did confirm Factor V Leiden, a thrombophilia, or bleeding/clotting disorder. 

Darci's memoir discloses exactly what this fifth pregnancy was like for her, with its constant setbacks and the ever-present fears she brought with her due to her many previous losses. She states from the very beginning that her goal is to get the word out that genetic testing needs to be done as soon as a problem is detected, and that babies and pregnancies are not interchangeable, therefore, it is not acceptable that the medical community often will not consider testing until at least two babies are lost (the idea being that a couple can always "try again," as though each baby is not its own, never to be retrieved, self). This book made me cry more often than not. I had to set it down several times and then pick it back up later after a break, as it only intensified my fears. I would not recommend it for anyone that has not already experienced pregnancy loss or for anyone that is healthy, but it is a great resource for those who sense they need to undergo genetic testing but are not being supported in this endeavor, as well as for those who have been diagnosed and could use a little hope that, with proper treatment, it is still possible to conceive a full term and healthy child, difficult as that road might be. 

Knit Two, by Kate Jacobs

The sequel to The Friday Night Knitting Club went much more quickly than the original book in the series. Knit Two (published in 2008 by G.P. Putnam's Sons) follows the same cast of characters as its predecessor, but is more engaging simply because by this time the reader is more interested in the characters' lives. I found myself caring about the characters as if I knew them personally, and that kept me reading straight to the end in just a few days' time.

As far as the plot goes, one character gives birth to a set of twins, a couple of others find love, business booms, and most of the characters go to Italy for a summer. And that's about all I can say without giving the "meat" of it away.

Just as with the first book, I wouldn't call this series exceptional (though it did make the New York Times bestseller list, so what do I know?), but its character development pulls you in (and makes you want to have a tight-knit circle of lifelong friends that faithfully meet up once a week).

Stopping Partway

I returned a book to the library today (The God of Small Things, if you're curious), only 1/3 finished. Did you catch that? Only 1/3 finished. This from the girl that used to read the copyright page and bar code numbers of every Babysitter's Club book. (Both my mom and dad passed down their perfectionism, what can I say?) I have come so far!

That said, it was not easy to return this unfinished book. I debated it for days. I labored over the decision. And then I looked at my tall stack of library books on the edge of the bathtub...and at the equally tall stack of purchased books on our dresser that I've been drooling over (but waiting on since there are no due dates on bought books), and I thought, this is silly. I don't enjoy this book. It's not holding my attention. I only have so many days on this earth; there's no time to waste on books like this! So I dropped it down the return slot.

Aaah. That felt good.

The Year of Magical Thinking, by Joan Didion

"You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends. In a heartbeat. Or the absence of one." 

- excerpted from The Year of Magical Thinking

I passed this book by in Barnes & Noble time and time again before I finally relented and checked it out from the library. I don't know why I was so hesitant to read it; it had been called one of the best modern books on grief and received the National Book Award. I guess I just kept thinking, this isn't the type of grief I'm experiencing. It's about the loss of a spouse. I won't be able to connect with this one. 


But the thing I learned most from my son's early death was that I don't have a minute to waste in my relationships here on earth. They're so fleeting, and I have no way of knowing exactly how much longer I have with anyone. Every moment must be savored. After my son died (that seems to be how my life is divided now: before he died and after he died), I became clingy with P. I didn't want to lose sight of him. I wouldn't go to bed without him, I wouldn't stop holding his hand no matter where we were. It was like I suddenly understood life's transience, and it scared me. This is what Joan Didion discovered, too, upon the loss of her husband: that in a moment, everything can change.

So I did, in fact, find myself able to connect with the foundation of much of what Didion wrote about in her grief memoir even though I have not lost my spouse. I understand the experience of walking around as if in a trance, feeling unseen as you navigate the world post the death of a loved one. I understand the irrational thoughts that course through your mind, thinking perhaps there is still a way to save your loved one (though it is already too late; the heartbeat has already flat-lined). And once again, I appreciated the honesty with which this grieving widow told her story, a story that can't have been easy to tell.

Aside from the underlying truth of the book, though, I found myself wading slowly through the pages, not really fully engaged, particularly when Didion discussed her daughter's hospitalization (an important part of the story, as it paralleled Didion's husband's death, but a part that still came across as a tangent, taking up more space than necessary). For me, this wasn't a "keeper."

Choosing to SEE, by Mary Beth Chapman

"I have found - even in the awful pain of tears and grief so intense you think it will kill you - that my family and I can do hard. We'll never get over our loss, but we're getting through it." 
- excerpted from Choosing to SEE

Mary Beth Chapman's book Choosing to SEE (published by Revel in 2010) was such an encouragement to me. My friend, A, recommended it, and I wasn't at all disappointed. In the last several months I've read a lot of books on grief and loss, underlining like crazy because that's how I learn and it's also (evidently) how I heal. I think I dog-eared at least twenty pages in this book. Steven Curtis and Mary Beth Chapman lost their five-year-old daughter, Maria, to a tragic accident in their own driveway a few years ago. I remember the first time I read about it in People magazine. I was in an airport gift shop on my way to who-knows-where and I felt like someone had punched me in the gut as I read their story. I felt such sadness for this family I had never even met. So, although this book was only partially about Maria's death, I was interested in how the family has coped with their deep loss (which now, of course, meant much more to me than ever). 

This book is an autobiography of Mary Beth's life, essentially, from her childhood (also filled with sadness and difficulty) to the death of Maria and beyond, outlining the places God has taken her that she never would have imagined. What I appreciated most throughout the book was its stark honesty. In the first chapter, Mary Beth admits that when people tell her how much her loss has made a difference in their lives, she thinks, "I want my children to be healthy, my family secure. I don't really care whose life has been touched or changed because of our loss!" (23) The author's words are filled with honesty and humility - just what anyone who has ever felt deep sorrow or loss needs to feel a little less alone. And yet, there is hope. Mary Beth ends with a quote from Hudson Taylor: "May this be your experience: may you feel that the Hand which inflicts the wound supplies the balm, and that He who has emptied your heart has filled the void with Himself." 

I would recommend this book to anyone who has lost a child in particular, or even just to those that have suffered with depression or any sort of loss (or knows someone who has). You'll read it in a day, and you'll be glad you did. 

The Friday Night Knitting Club, by Kate Jacobs

Admittedly, I found myself stuck on the first chapter of The Friday Night Knitting Club (copyright 2007 by J.P. Putnam's Sons) for about two weeks. Maybe it was just that I was reading other books at the same time (I usually have four or five books going at once, indicative of some sort of book ADD) or that I once tried my hand at knitting and quit. Maybe it's just one of those books that starts slowly and only engages the reader once the characters come alive over time. I'm really not sure. But eventually I dove back into the novel and read to the end. And I liked it. 

This book isn't destined to be a classic, but I doubt that it was meant to be. It is, however, one of those heartwarming stories of friendship. Jacobs writes of a group of women from all walks of life that meet in a knitting shop once a week to eat, talk, and occasionally knit. They don't initially know one another very well, so at first their relationships are stilted at best, but they become inseparable as they spend more and more time together, and in the end, each of them faces life circumstances that make them grateful they have such a strong support group of women. 

It may have taken me awhile to get through, but Jacobs's novel reminded me of the power of friendship, making it a worthwhile read. The second book in the series, Knit Two, is on my "holds" list at the library as of tonight. 

Cartwheels in a Sari, by Jayanti Tamm

Cartwheels in a Sari, by Jayanti Tamm (published in 2009 by Three Rivers Press) is a memoir of one of Sri Chinmoy's original followers. Sri Chinmoy led a cult based in New York City, but his followers were spread throughout the world, even extending to many well known celebrities and world leaders (which was his intent). I expected the account of "the guru" to be more eerie than it was. Instead, what kept striking me as I read was how ridiculous it all sounded. Sri Chinmoy somehow led hundreds (and thousands?) of followers to believe that he was God (or at least a direct link to God) through the most unbelievable tactics. (Weight lifting was one of the ways he drew crowds; he had a platform made on which he would lift people, objects, and elephants to prove his power (only it was all an elaborate set-up). He first banned his followers from owning pets and then eventually had cages of birds and other sorts of animals kept up in his illegal basement as a zoo. Reading about all of this from an outsider's perspective, it seems unreal to me that anyone would have bought Sri Chinmoy's claims and become one of his disciples. 

It's a good reminder to be cautious of human claims. 

Can You Keep a Secret, by Sophie Kinsella

I’m afraid to say much about Can You Keep a Secret, by Sophie Kineslla (published by The Dial Press in 2004). It’s a fairly uncomplicated plot, and I’d hate to give away a single thing. But essentially, in the first pages of the book, Emma believes the plane she is on is about to crash. In her fear (and inebriation), she begins to disclose all of her life’s secrets to the man sitting beside her: a perfect stranger. The plane lands safely, and in the next several days, Emma is humiliated to find that the perfect stranger that now knows the most intimate details of who she truly is is, in fact, the founder of the company she works for, and will be in her office a great deal in the future. 

What unfolds will alternately make you cringe on Emma’s behalf, laugh at the hilarity of her circumstances, and...well, there’s a happy ending. And that’s all you need to know. It’s a fast, fun book for female audiences. 

Secrets of Eden, by Chris Bohjalian

Chris Bohjalian’s stories always haunt me long after I’ve finished reading. Not necessarily in a bad way, just in the sense that I find myself mulling over the plot days later, still in shock over the surprise ending that Bohjalian has mastered.

I first discovered Bohjalian after my lovely friend L and I were browsing a used bookstore in New Hampshire. She recommended The Double Bind and later gifted me with a copy of Before You Know Kindness, and now I’m hooked. Bohjalian (who looks like the spitting image of Kevin Spacey, in my opinion) is a New England native, and often goes into bookstores, signs his books, slips them back onto the bookshelves, and leaves without saying a word. I like that.

This latest book of Bohjalian’s, Secrets of Eden (published in 2010 by Shaye Areheart Books) is the story of a murder/suicide (not the lightest of subjects, but intriguing from start to finish). The home in which these crimes take place is known for its marital disputes and domestic violence, so it seems like a no-brainer that the husband killed his wife and then turned his gun on himself, case-closed. ...Until it is discovered that the villiage pastor had once had a romantic relationship with the wife, a fact that had been well-hidden until investigators stumbled upon her diary.

Told from four different characters’ perspectives (the book is neatly divided into a section for each character, an organizational approach that I always appreciate), Bohjalian’s novel is one of those books that’s hard to put down (and that you may be somewhat disappointed to finish at all).