Solitude

“Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed."  (Mark 1:35)

“Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.” (Luke 5:16)

Having just read Anna Quindlen's memoir, Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake, I was thrilled to turn the page (or tap my Kindle rather) and see Quindlen devoted an entire chapter to the topic of solitude.  Intrigued, I was anxious to read on . . .  In this portion of her writing, Quindlen describes her living arrangements with her husband during the summer months:  he spends the week in the city while she flies solo out in the country;  they reunite on the weekends.  She writes: 

There are two different responses to this kind of arrangement.  The first is pity, the notion that being alone is synonymous with loneliness and must be remedied with company at all costs.  The second is the minority reaction:   that solitude sounds wonderful.  (Loc 1034)

At this point of my life, I would be considered according to Quindlen in the minority although there was a season in my life where I would have been in the former camp.  While a grad student living in Chicago, I can remember attending the movie theater with a friend or love interest and see many young sailors (i.e. the nearby Great Lakes Training Center) sitting in what I thought of as isolated islands, people in theater seats minus an adjacent breathing being.  Literally, my heart wrenched for these young people (yes, I was young and dramatic and in love with the classics), and if I didn't have that shy streak, I would have asked if he or she would like to have joined us in our row and inevitably passed the popcorn.  In my heart, I knew they had to have been lonely and wanting of companionship of any kind.  Now, I realize he or she was probably relishing the solitude after being packed in with others dressed identically morning, noon, and night.

As my thoughts about solitude matured along with the years in my life, I enjoyed living alone in my early 30s.  I could read when I wanted, watch television when I wanted, sleep when I wanted, and interact with others when I wanted.  As fate would have it, the man of my dreams followed this same theory.  In fact, he tells me he knew he was in love with me on our drive from Springfield, IL, to New Salem, IL.  It was my 31st birthday, and we were on our way to see the outdoor production of Quilters at this historic locale.  During the roughly forty-minute drive, we drove in silence: no radio, no cd, no conversation, no uncomfortable silence.  We simply enjoyed being together without having to fill the space between us with words.  The reality of the situation never dawned on me until he brought it to my attention years later, and I dug that he dug the contented hush.  You dig?

As a first-time mother, I found my solitude in sleep.  If a willing anyone volunteered to watch over my squirt, I headed for a pallet of any sort to lose myself in slumber, the ultimate solo activity.  As a second-time mother, I was more adventurous in terms of seeking solitude.  Reading through the MOBOT newsletter, I knew a day and night with strangers in a log cabin was calling my name, so I registered.  Now, I did ask friends to join me, but they either laughed or tried desperately to find care for their children to no avail.  During my 24-hour span, I learned to felt wool, realized fleece sweats were not a good choice when walking through woods riddled with burrs (yes, I'm a dork and never seem to dress appropriately), and read to my heart's content on my lower bunk in the cabin all while listening to unfamiliar stories and unfamiliar snores.

As I am now middle-aged woman, it's a relief to be surrounded by people who understand my quirks when it comes to solitude.  While hospitalized last year for the second time for an infection, I decided to embrace the solitude a solo room on the oncology floor can bring.  My best friend and hub assured me they wouldn't announce this hospitalization to others because I truly wanted to reflect on the here and now and read without interruption. This nearly week-long stay was loooooooooooong, but I attempted to glean the good from this opportunity which I knew I may not have again.

My friends who know me well, I believe, respect my love of solitude and join in right along with me.  This past weekend, a dear friend I hadn't seen in over a year stayed at my house for the night.  We talked and laughed, but when the witching hour of 10:00 p.m rolled around, we knew our reading awaited us, and we lovingly said our good nights.  

Anna Quindlen's Blessings Book Club

After a few starts and stops, I finally gave my full attention to Anna Quindlen's Blessings and was determined to finish.  Although the beginning failed to hook me, once I reached the meat of the story, there was no turning back.  A story of an elderly woman, a convicted felon, and an aspiring young doctor whose lives all come together as a result of the unexpected appearance of a child.
The setting of the novel, Blessings, a rural family retreat, is not only idyllic in location, but also a domicile of familial dysfunction, both past and present.  Through careful unveiling, Quindlen highlights the tragedy associated with truths withheld over generations.  
What was refreshing was the life, revitalization, and perspective of the female protagonist, Lydia.  While philosophizing about life itself, she explains the tragedy of young death, the shock of middle-age death, and the inevitability of elderly death, how herstory, in essence, revolves around the loss of others.  In addition, kudos to Quindlen for allowing the younger male and female in the novel to have meaningful interaction without the presence of romance.
For the purposes of book club, a picnic lunch near a creek much like Lydia shared with Benny and Sunny as adolescents complete with bacon sandwiches, peanut butter cookies, and a big Ball jar of lemonade may be the perfect conversation starter.

Anna Quindlen 

Susanna Sonnenberg's She Matters: A Life in Friendships Book Club

After having read Susanna Sonnenberg's Her Last Death, I knew She Matters: A Life in Friendships, Sonnenberg's latest memoir, would be next on the list.  Compiled of friendship vignettes which span Sonnenberg's herstory, the beginning of each chapter urges the reader on in order to determine if the friendship in question has stood the test of time or reached its conclusion.  Sonnenberg's brute honesty and vivid descriptions brings forth a sense of relational empathy in the reader.  These detailed realities, I hope, beg the question of readers, "Why must female relationships oftentimes be so complicated?"  What I like to refer to as the cauliflower story, Sonnenberg expertly creates the ambiance and effort put into a meal meant to please another person.  The female friend arrives and merely pushes the penne pasta with cauliflower around on her plate.  Years later, Sonnenberg discovers by chance while at the farmer's market with said woman that her friend despises cauliflower, thus mystery solved.  For me, the absurdity of the elephant in the room, i.e the vegetable which resembles, of all body parts, a brain, reaffirms the ideal how us chicks need to be more like the guys when dealing with one another, less defensive and more open.  Thus, a fine penne with cauliflower is a must to accompany discussion of Sonnenberg's She Matters:  A Life in Friendships, but also, perhaps, a qualifier of a genuine friendship. 

Susanna Sonnenberg

Liz Curtis Higgs' The Girl's Still Got It Book Club

Never in a million years would I have thought an in-depth line by line study of a book of the Bible would be so intriguing, suspenseful, romantic, and inspiring.  Yet, Liz Curtis Higgs' manages this feat and then some in her work of nonfiction, The Girl's Still Got It.  I looked forward to dental appointments with glee, dance classes with anticipation, and children's bedtimes with relief so that I could steal some time alone with this work of writing.  Having read the book of Ruth before, this time I was awakened to the richness of the language, precise word choices, and the eloquence of simple storytelling.  Calling the hub at work, I recited Biblical verses with endearing emphasis, "I will do for you all you ask,"  (Ruth 3:11), and "Spread the corner of your garment over me . . ."  (Ruth 3:9).  Writing a sweet nothing in his valentine this year is going to be, figuratively speaking, a piece of cake due to Higgs' influence.  In addition to making Ruth's story relevant in the 21st century through down-to-earth explanation, Higgs' also concludes each chapter with a blurb from a present-day woman who relates her own story to that of Ruth. 
For the purposes of book club, one may take a cue from Ruth 1:6, "When she had heard in Moab that the Lord had come to the aid of his people by providing food for them . . ."  In Higgs' explication, the reader learns ". . .  the people of Judah are discovering plump grapes on the vines, clusters of olives nestled in the trees . . ." (29).  Thus, it makes sense to offer both red and green grapes during discussion as well as a variety of olives- pitted, stuffed, marinated, etc.- in order to reenact the bounty the people of Judah were discovering at the time.  While munching, discussion may be facilitated by Higgs generous offering of discussion questions for the purposes of book club as well as more detailed questions for a more frequent atmosphere of book study.  In addition, in lieu of a verbal lashing of the male protagonist, embrace your inner Cupids and share your own personal Boaz stories with one another as a finale to discussion.

Liz Curtis Higgs

J.W. Bull's Pickin' Tomatoes Book Club

Claiming 1st Prize in the 2012 Shirley You Jest Fiction Book Awards, J.W. Bull's Pickin' Tomatoes was ripe for review.  Deemed a romantic comedy, I found there was so much more to be found in the pages of this novel. . . self-discovery, overcoming loss, and the necessity of genuine friendship.
Not only was a smile spread across my face as I sat reading during my daughters' dance class, but tears flowed, too, during a young protagonist's dialogue with her mother, losing a battle with breast cancer:

"Momma?  You don't feel so good?"  I whispered as I peeked from behind Daddy's legs.  The hospital was a scary place with weird smells and lots of whiteness.  Where were all the colors?  Momma stretched out her hand to me.  I crept around Daddy and put my hand in hers.  It felt dry and warm.  "Sometimes even mommies get sick, Maggie,"  she replied in a voice that didn't sound like her.  (Loc 548 of 3590 Kindle) 

as well as a first-time pregnant woman at the deathbed of her father:

For a time, we stayed like that, curled up in the hospital bed together.  Joined by memories and hearts.  Until I felt his body begin to relax and his eyes closed.
And he went home to Momma.  (Loc 1477 of 3590 Kindle)

Thus, the anecdotes sprinkled throughout such as:  "Finding Mister Right is like washing dishes.  Just when you think he's squeaky clean- bam!  You find dried up, crusty old egg on him"  (Loc 42 of 3590 Kindle) kept the pace of this work moving right along.  In addition to the various literacy elements interspersed throughout, J.W. Bull offers the reader easy-to-decipher, mouthwatering recipes sure to please any food lover.
So, for the purposes of book club, assign one recipe found at the back of Pickin' Tomatoes to each bookie.  This way everyone has a chance to sample each delicacy written about and compare ease of execution with the main character, Maggie Malone.  Food for the mind and body. . .  Pickin' Tomatoes is a win win!

J.W. Bull

Susanna Sonnenberg's Her Last Death Book Club

Having read about Susanna Sonnenberg's latest memoir, She Matters, in a newspaper, my interest was piqued about not only this as a potential read, but also her first memoir, Her Last Death, the true story of a troubled (putting it mildly) childhood and the effects of which infiltrate adulthood.  The honesty with which Sonnenberg arranges her words grasps the attention of the reader in much the same way an automobile accident may engage passing motorists. . . too horrific to comprehend, but impossible to turn away.  Blushing while reading one passage, empathizing while reading another, this is definitely a page turner.  Feeling as if I now know the Susanna on these pages, I yearn to know the rest.  What has happened between the final page until now?
For the purposes of book club, many gourmet delicacies are discussed throughout.  However, a defining moment in the memoir comes when Susanna realizes she favors her eggs scrambled, not a soft scramble, but hard.  Thus, a brunch with the eggs in question would be a compelling conversation starter.

Susanna Sonnenberg

Kim and Krickitt Carpenter's The Vow Book Club

Yeehaaaa!  As a former English teacher and book addict, I am thrilled to write in the case of The Vow the "book was definitely better" than the movie (keeping the written word alive).  The Vow written by Kim and Krickitt Carpenter with Dana Wilkerson tells the true story of this newly wed husband and wife who face physical, emotional, and financial obstacles after a near-fatal car accident. 
Told from the point-of-view of the husband, Kim Carpenter, it was a quick, inspiring read.  The fact the book was written from the husband's point-of-view only, though, left me wanting to know more about Krickitt Carpenter, her feelings and thoughts during this entire ordeal since it was her memory of her life with this man which was affected.  A more feminine style of writing may have softened, or at the very least offered further elaboration on such passages as, "I still yell at her from time to time and I feel bad about it"  (177).  Huh?  

For the purposes of book club, the ideal of Kim and Krickitt's decision to court one another again in an effort "to rebuild the marriage from the ground up" (162) came to mind.  So, what does one eat while at the movies on a date with that special someone?  Perhaps a buttery bag of popcorn causing one's greasy fingers to "accidentally" touch while digging for another handful may rekindle the flame.  So, a variety of popcorns ranging from sweet to savory in flavor from Chef's Shoppe in Edwardsville, IL, may not only satisfy the munchies during discussion, but also may recall a past love.  

The Carpenters