"A Song for Lost Angels," by Kevin Fisher-Paulson

One of my favorite columnists in the San Francisco Chronicle is Kevin Fisher-Paulson. He is a gay white Sheriff’s Deputy married to a gay white male dancer; the couple has adopted two African American boys with various special needs, who are now early teenagers. The column is humorous and touching. The columnist writes about his unconventional family’s life in the “outer, outer, outer, outer Excelsior,” an unfashionable but family-oriented area of San Francisco. The family stories are personal, unflinching, detailed, and full of unconditional love. After reading the column for some time, I realized that this couple had a sad back story about fostering premature triplets, born drug-addicted. Then I learned that Fisher-Paulson had written a book about that experience, and of course I had to find and read that book. It is titled “A Song for Lost Angels: How Daddy and Papa Fought to Save Their Family” (Two Penny Press; Second Edition 2015). The writing is clear-eyed, and although the author describes how hard it was to take care of these three babies, he demonstrates at every turn how much he and his husband loved the children and were willing to do anything for them. They were fortunate to have (then and now) a wonderful network of extremely supportive friends, but still, this was an enormous challenge, gladly taken on. Unfortunately – and this is not giving away anything that the column had not already mentioned, and that becomes clear early in the book – the birth mother comes back into their lives when they are about one year old and – in league with her mother – claims the babies and wants them back. The mother is incredibly careless and unloving with the babies on their short visits, and the grandmother seems more interested in how much money they would get from the government in support of the children than in the actual children. Sadly, as a result of some social workers who believe that the birth parents should always prevail, and who are also nastily homophobic, the triplets are given back to the birth mother and grandmother. The Fisher-Paulsons never see them again, and don’t even know where and how they are. It is an absolutely heartbreaking story. One would think that after such an experience, a couple would be afraid to ever try again, but within months, they adopt the two boys that I mentioned earlier, the ones that the couple has now raised to adolescence, and that the author writes about in his column. The author never claims credit for his and his husband’s amazing love and care of the triplets and then of the two boys, but the reader cannot help but be filled with admiration for their dedication to these children. This story is compelling and well told, with sincerity, humor, and a light touch. And yes, you will both laugh and cry while reading it. And you will come away from the book with awe at the unselfish dedication of these two men, “Daddy” and “Papa.”

"Maid," by Stephanie Land

Regular readers of this blog may remember that I am very interested in (and have published on, in the context of language education) issues of social class, and of how those issues affect so many lives so deeply. In the U.S., too many people are slipping from the middle class into financial struggles and even poverty. Stephanie Land’s new memoir, “Maid: Hard Work, Low Pay, and a Mother’s Will to Survive” (Hachette, 2019), describes such a situation. The author had a more-or-less middle class upbringing, but an unexpected pregnancy and then a breakup with the child’s father kept her from attending college as she had planned, and dropped her into poverty. Her parents (divorced and each with new partners) had also slipped financially, and were not able to help her. She became a housecleaner, working hard for very low wages, having to leave her child in less-than-ideal day care for long hours, living in small uncomfortable apartments (including one with black mold that made both her and her daughter sick all the time), constantly worried about money. Her situation was very difficult. We readers suffer with her through the painful jobs, the pinching of pennies, the embarrassment about taking government assistance. She always kept writing, though. And she writes insightfully and occasionally entertainingly and humorously about the different houses she cleaned and their owners. Some of the owners treat her as if she is inferior to them; others are more egalitarian and caring. She shares vivid details about the jobs, the houses, and the residents. Meanwhile, she dreams of visiting and living in Missoula, Montana, which has somehow become her magic ideal. Throughout, we see Land's determination to keep going and to improve her living situation for the sake of her daughter, Mia. I won’t let slip any spoilers, but a hint is that things do get better for the author eventually.

"The Wife," by Meg Wolitzer -- A Novel and a Film

Meg Wolitzer is one of the best contemporary American novelists. She is known for writing strong women characters, and focusing on families, friends, and relationships. She does so in original and compelling ways. She has also written thoughtfully and candidly – both in her fiction and her nonfiction - about her concerns about gender bias in the literary world as well as in the larger world; I appreciate so much her willingness to do so. Her novels include “The Ten-Year Nap,” “The Interestings,” and “The Female Persuasion,” all of which I have read (and many more of her novels as well). Her novel “The Wife” (which I also read) is now in the news because this past year it was, 14 years after publication, made into a major movie starring the wonderful actress Glenn Close. Ms. Close plays the wife of a man who wins the Nobel Prize in Literature. I don’t want to say more about the plot, for fear of providing spoilers. Her performance is restrained, and the most compelling part of the film is watching her face as she reacts to various events and feelings. Close was up for best actress at the Academy Awards a couple of weeks ago, for this film; unfortunately (in my view), she didn’t win. In any case, it was a pleasure to read the novel and a pleasure to see the film. And the feminist message in both is important.