by jphilo | May 18, 2010 | Reviews
Because time always seems to be short and the stack of books on my bedside table is tall, I very rarely read a book slowly. But by the time the first chapter of Olive Kitteredge came to an end, I resolved to take a long time reading it.
Maybe you’ve heard about Elizabeth Strout’s book. It won the Pulitzer Prize, for good reason. It’s a masterfully written novel about Olive and the people in the Maine town where she lives. Each chapter stands alone as a short story, but with each story read, thin threads of plot and character loosely weave the events and townspeople together. In some stories, Olive is the main character. In a few she’s present in a supporting role. In some, she appears on the perifery, waving at someone else or quickly passing by.
Though Olive is not the center of each story, she is the center of the book. In her, Strout has skillfully developed one of the most memorable characters in modern fiction. Olive is heart wrenchingly human and familiar. A retired seventh grade math teacher, her flaws are obvious. She bullies her long-suffering husband, over-manages her adult son’s life, gives her opinion too freely, and sews her own clothes with great passion but little taste. She also has a wonderful sense of humor, is a wise judge of character, and sometimes reaches out to struggling people with unexpected and selfless compassion.
Somehow, Strout’s writing managed to put me inside Olive’s skin and allowed me to view her from a distance. Simultaneously, I justified the motives driving her thoughts and actions (maybe because they were so similar to my own rationalizations) while wanting to head her off at the pass before she did another stupid thing.
By the end of the first chapter, Olive was my enemy, my respected teaching colleague, my nosey neighbor, my mother-in-law, my rescuer and my friend. Because I didn’t want to say good-bye to her, I read the book slowly, savoring each new twist and facet of Olive’s complex personality, shaking my head and chuckling as she struggled through self-inflicted dilemma after dilemma.
I didn’t want the book to end, and with so many loose ends and unanswered questions remaining at the end of the last chapter, my hope is that Strout has a sequel in mind. I hope she writes it soon.
I miss Olive Kitteridge.
by jphilo | May 11, 2010 | Reviews
William Wilberforce entered my world in 2000. One of the assignments in an Adult Discipleship Training Class at our church was to research a historic believer who made a major contribution to society as a whole, not just in Christian circles. We each picked one person to research from the list our pastor provided, did the research, and wrote a biographical sketch for the other class members to read.
I chose William Wilberforce, the 18th century English member of Parliament who made it his life’s work to abolish the slave trade in England. You can read a short biography (not the one I wrote years ago) at Christianity Today’s website.
Or you can watch the story unfold in the beautifully-made movie Amazing Grace, released by Bristol Bay Productions in 2007. Ioan Gruffudd portrays Wilberforce, and Romola Garai plays his wife. Albert Finney is John Newton,the former slave trader turned preacher, abolitionist, and author of the hymn, Amazing Grace. He also mentored Wilberforce, encouraging him to use his influence and position to end slavery in England.
This movie is a story of the cruelty of the men engaged in the slave trade. It’s the story of men, frail and persistent, called by God to speak out against that evil. It’s the story of a man and woman who were given much and risked what they had to do what was right instead of what was easy.
The conviction that first took root when Wilberforce entered my world during the Adult Discipleship Class in 2000 unfurled while I watched the movie a few weeks ago. How am I helping others using the gifts God has provided? What am I doing to move beyond comfortable Christian circles and contribute to all of society? How does God want me to step out in faith and do what is right instead of what’s easy? Those questions will take the rest of my life to ponder and act upon.
Amazing Grace is a life-altering movie. If you watch it, you may start asking the same questions, and who knows where they will lead you? So think carefully before you slip the DVD into your player. Be prepared to look at life differently once you watch it.
Prepare to change.
by jphilo | May 5, 2010 | Reviews
“Have you seen the movie Chocolat?” my quiet daughter asked in March.
“No,” I said.
“Well, you should,” she replied.
“You definitely should,” her fiance echoed.
A few weeks ago, I took their advice and the movie entranced me on a variety of levels. It was a feast for the eyes with vivid splashes of color against drab stone walls and interior sets. The small French village was populated with flawed people, more concerned about keeping secrets than about living with their human frailties.
The actors were outstanding with Juliette Binoche, Victoire Thivisol, Alfred Molina, and Johnny Depp, among others, rendering their characters with compassion and charm.
The cholocat shop was magical and delicious, the aroma of dark, rich, clinging chocolate almost palpable. The script unfolded slowly, gently revealing each person’s secrets.
The movie was as enchanting as a fairy tale, as sweet as a children’s book, as real as everyday life, and as otherworldish as Middle Earth and Narnia. Why I waited ten years to watch it, I’ll never know. It left no bitter aftertaste. Instead, it wrapped a sweetness around me that refuses to leave me. Of course, the chocolate cravings the movie aroused still linger, too.
So be warned. Either clear the house of chocolate and hide the car keys before viewing the movie or be prepared to eat every crumb in sight or within driving distance.
Because the eye candy in Chocolat is irresistibly delicious.
by jphilo | Apr 20, 2010 | Reviews
The story of Justin Hansen, the Russian boy who was returned to his native country by his adoptive mother Torry Hansen, is receiving intense media scrutiny. But the general public will probably never learn the entire story. Even if the whole truth comes out, could the mother’s explanation excuse her actions? Though the Hansens don’t live in a perfect world, couldn’t they have found a better solution to their problem?
Let’s face it. A whole passel of problems accompany the adoption of traumatized, orphaned children, whether they come from abroad or the United States. At the very least, they have abandonment issues to address and sort through. Depending on the level of care they received after being given up by their parents, they may have experienced much more – neglect, sexual or physical abuse, invasive medical treatment – which can lead to attachment disorders, PTSD, and other serious mental illnesses.
For too long, the adoption community has ignored these problems, suggesting that a stable home and loving parents will magically heal adopted children. But recent research shows that most children need intentional mental health treatment to help them recover. And for parents to persevere, they need an encouraging, deep support system populated by faithful friends, accepting family, compassionate teachers, perceptive therapists, and experienced health care professionals surrounding them. I don’t know what kind of support system the Hansens had, but obviously it wasn’t encouraging and deep enough!
If you want to learn more about what it can be like to adopt and parent a child who’s been severely traumatized, you should read Jayne Schooler’s new book, Wounded Children, Healing Homes. (NavPress, 2010) She realistically addresses the issues faced by foster and adoptive parents and their children. She even admits the truth. Not all adoptions work. In rare cases, the child’s needs are so great they threaten the whole family. The adopted child must leave, though not alone on an airplane with a note pinned to his shirt.
For information about how to help traumatized children heal, Peter Levine’s book Trauma Through the Eyes of a Child has techniques for parents to use and advice about when to seek professional help. But for the quickest, most effective treatment available, visit www.traumatherapy.us to learn about the Intensive Trauma Therapy Institute’s treatment model.
Remember, Justin Hansen’s story is the exception, not the rule. With resources like those listed above and by developing better support systems, maybe we can keep other families from making similar, desperate choices so detrimental to their children.
by jphilo | Apr 7, 2010 | Reviews
These days, I’m gaffawing way too often. The nose snorts I laid to rest in junior high are making a comeback. My lack of control and increasing social disfunction is the fault of the cast and writers of the The Dick Van Dyke Show.
This classic sit com debuted in 1961. I was in kindergarten that year, so my recollections of the show’s premier season are a bit fuzzy. My memories are more of the syndicated reruns we watched with Dad after school, before Mom came home from school. The show’s physical comedy and slapstick tickled my funny bone, and the humor in Carl Reiner’s razor sharp writing, which went over my head, made Dad laugh until the tears streamed down his face.
For the past few weeks, I have enjoyed watching the Season One DVD with adult sensibilities. The writing is crisp and for the most part, not dated. Dick Van Dyke as Rob Petrie and Mary Tyler Moore as his wife Laura play off one another skillfully. Scenes that allow them to show off their dancing and singing talents are regularly written into the script. And, it’s refreshing to see their characters navigate their relationship and remain in love despite their shortcomings and foiables.
When the supporting characters (Morey Amsterdam as Buddy Sorrell, Rose Marie as Sally Rogers and Richard Deacon as Mel Cooley) enter the mix, they start me snickering without saying a word just like when I was a kid. Trained on the vaudeville stage, Amsterdam and Rogers faces and body language are hilarious. But the concept of a show within a show (Rob Petrie is the head writer for the fictional Alan Brady Show, with Buddy and Sally as his co-workers) makes much more sense to me now than in my younger days. Reiner uses clever writing to exploit the device to full advantage.
If you’re caught up in the sixties retro fashion craze, their wardrobes (especially Moore’s), house decoration, and furnishings will be flashback eye candy. Even better, Van Dyke and Moore are living eye candy. With their extensive dance backgrounds, they move with breathtaking grace. Van Dyke’s ability to do physical sight gags is astounding and lightening quick.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to finish the first season of The Dick Van Dyke Show before it was due back at the library. I’m looking forward to checking it out again after reading the Wikipedia and the Museum of Broadcast Communication entries about the show. Apparently, Carl Reiner use of the show to parallel the Kennedy’s Camelot years in the White House and to spoof current events went right over my little head in the early 1960s.
But not any more. Armed with the background provided at the two sites, watching the rest of Season One will be more fun than before. Sure hope the library has Seasons Two, Three, Four, and Five, also!
by jphilo | Mar 31, 2010 | Reviews
If Jeanette Walls’ memoir, The Glass Castle captivated you like it did me, then you’ve been waiting for her second book since you finished the first one. Well, your wait is over. Half Broke Horses, her new novel about her maternal grandmother, is here.
After finishing Glass Castle, many readers wanted to know more about Walls’ eccentric mother, Rose Mary. According to the author interview at the end of the audiobook, Jeannette took their advice and began interviewing her mother to gather material for a second non-fiction book. During the interviews, her mother suggested the book be about her mother, Lily Casey Smith, who was a real character.
When Walls began writing, still determined to write about her mother’s life, her grandmother’s voice dominated the story. Finally, Walls succumbed to the sheer force of Grandma Lily’s personality and wrote about her instead.
Lily didn’t have much childhood on her family’s desolate New Mexico ranch. With a mother who considered herself too much of a fine lady for farm labor and a gimpy father with a severe speech impediment, Lily grew up fast. At a young age she learned to break horses, care for her younger siblings, and squeeze in school when she could. Eventually, she became a teacher, moved to Chicago, then moved back to New Mexico.
She was an intelligent, opinionated, hard-working, penny-pinching woman. When she decided to do something, no one could stop her. Teaching was always her fall back career, but along the way she worked as a maid, married a bigamist, raced horses as a jockey, sold moonshine, became a landlord in Phoenix, and spied on her husband. She preferred driving cattle or the hearse she used as a school bus over cooking and laundry. And one of the great pleasures of her life was taking out her false teeth and showing them off to strangers.
Because the book is based on secondhand recollections from Rose Mary and Jeannette’ sketchy memories of Grandma Lily, who died when Walls was eight, the author calls the book a novel. But it’s written from the first person perspective of Lily and reads like a memoir.
Though it wasn’t as captivating as Glass Castle, I still enjoyed Half Broke Horses. Lily reminded me of the tough, wiry characters in Camp Crook, South Dakota where we lived for seven years. Apparently, something about living in remote, dry areas of the west encourages people to cultivate their inner eccentricity and put it on display. By the time you finish reading it, you’ll have a better understanding of the lifestyle Rose Mary adopted as an adult. And every now and then, when you think about Lily Casey Smith, you’ll chuckle and laugh out loud. She’s ranch country personified, and an unforgettable character.
Thank you, Jeannette Walls, for sharing your grandmother with your fans.
