Ode to Alice Munro

I know I have mentioned my admiration of Alice Munro before, but having just finished listening to one of her short story collections on CD -- "The Love of a Good Woman" (BBC Audiobooks America, 1999) -- motivates me to devote a post to her. I have read almost all of the work of this Canadian author who is an accomplished novelist but is best-known for her short stories. This particular collection includes stories set in Vancouver, where Munro spent some of her earlier years, and those set in rural Ontario, where Munro has lived for many years and where most of her stories are set. All Munro's stories are very character-focused, and the characters they focus on are what we might call "ordinary," not being urban, flashy, or particularly "successful" (no Manhattanesque young professional types!). For just a couple of examples from "The Love of a Good Woman": a mean, trapped-by-gender-expectations small-town landlady; a young, pregnant musician whose husband has died in the war and who lives with his judgmental sisters. The stories usually start with seemingly ordinary, everyday scenes and matters, but as they unfold, they surprise readers, sneaking up on us and without fanfare revealing events and issues that are far bigger. A word I think of when reading Munro is "fresh," because each story is original and usually surprising, not in the cliched O. Henry surprise-ending way, but in the way of making readers see life and people afresh. Munro is not afraid to show us the "underbelly" of "ordinary" people's lives; in fact, often her stories contain a sense of unease; some even produce a slight touch of the ominous. Yet the overall feeling of her stories is neither negative or positive about life, just very real. Yet all of this is done without showy writing or pyrotechnics; in fact, her stories are often deceptively simple. I wish I had adequate words to convey the richness of Munro's writing and the rewards of reading her work; I can't do her work full justice here, so I can only urge you to find and read one of her short story collections: I suggest beginning with "Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage" (2001), "Runaway" (2004), or "Too Much Happiness" (2009).

"The Lovers"

Yvonne confronts loss, but also reflects on love, dissects love, experiences love, is pained by love, is let down by love, doubts love, is reassured by love, is supported by love, is pierced by love, and is surrounded by love: love from the past, love in the present, marital love, family love, love of new acquaintances, love of children, love of nature. The book is "The Lovers" ((HarperCollins, 2010), by the San Francisco writer Vendela Vida. Yvonne's reflections and experiences take place in the faraway country of Turkey, where as an American widow she has gone to remember her late husband and their honeymoon there almost thirty years before. In her rented house at the beach and in surrounding areas, her reflections are complicated by worries about her adult children, as well as by the various characters she encounters, influences, and is influenced by, with results varying from loving connections to great loss. Confused and overwhelmed by events past and present and by her own feelings, Yvonne is finally buoyed up by the love of her family and by her own inner strength. As I write this, I realize it sounds as if this novel is a sentimental, "inspiring," "I will survive" sort of book. But "The Lovers" is much more complex, more original than that. The story is both very specific in its details and universal in its portrayal of grief and love. Recommended.

Sex, Intrigue, and Women's Lives in 19th Century England

My new friend T. highly recommended "The Sealed Letter" (Harcourt, 2008), by Emma Donoghue. I am not a huge reader of historical fiction, but after starting this novel and then not being able to put it down until I finished it, I completely agree with her recommendation. Set in 1864 in London, the novel is loosely based on a true case of a notorious sexual scandal and divorce at a time when divorce was extremely rare. The novel portrays the limited lives and rights of women at the time, and the rigid constraints on their behavior -- the main "theme"; in addition, it portrays the small community of women working for women's rights, the psychologically complex interlocking lives of the four main characters (including one very manipulative character in a beautiful guise), the insidious influences of evil on innocence, the sexual mores of the time, and the intricate British legal system. But beyond being "about" the topics above, this is a gripping, suspenseful novel with surprises around every corner, up to the very end of the novel. "The Sealed Letter" is very well-written, by an author in complete command of her material.

"Bad Mother"

Berkeley writer Ayelet Waldman (whom I once briefly met at a bookstore event) believes in honesty, even when it draws harsh criticism from the public. She is famous (notorious?) for an essay in which she stated that she loves her husband, writer Michael Chabon, more than she loves her children; many people vociferously disapproved, and made sure to let her know of their disapproval. This experience, although painful to her, did not stop her from writing equally honestly and openly in "Bad Mother: A Chronicle of Maternal Crimes, Minor Calamities, and Occasional Moments of Grace" (Doubleday, 2009). She writes about motherhood, sex, marriage, co-parenting, abortion, being bipolar, work (she is a Harvard-trained lawyer who stopped practicing), being a stay-at-home mom, being a writer, the pressures that so many women face in trying to balance work and parenting, both appreciating and throwing up her hands at the exacting and unrealistic standards promulgated by "Berkeley mothers," hopes for her children, and more. Most mothers want and need to feel they are excellent in that role; it takes a lot of courage to admit publicly that although she dearly loves her children, she is not a perfect mother, and further, to detail the ways in which she is not. I should note that it is clear that overall she is doing fine, and that her children, despite some bumps in the road, are doing more than fine. This book is brave, candid, humorous, and even inspiring. It is also very readable.

Beautiful if Eccentric

I initially picked up "The Bird Catcher" (St. Martin's, 2009), a novel by Laura Jacobs, because the reviews made it sound clever and stylish, and because it was set in Manhattan (regular readers of this blog will know of my affinity for that setting). It did not disappoint. The main character, Margret Snow, is certainly intelligent and interesting, as is her older professor husband; she is a dropout from her doctoral program at Columbia, now a windows artist for upscale department stores. The Manhattan setting does not disappoint: there are many admirably non-cliched scenes involving art, literature, music, fashion, dinner parties and other pleasures of Manhattan life. Jacobs also conveys the feeling of different parts of Manhattan very well, with very specific descriptions of walks and taxi rides through various neighborhoods and parks. The aspect that makes this novel stand out is foretold in the title: the main character is a bird watcher, a bird catcher, a bird artist, and finally, a bird taxidermist. This last item is the strangest one, and the detailed scenes in which Margret learns to stuff tiny birds and use them in her unique and beautiful art pieces -- pieces which provide a way to channel her pain and healing after a tragedy in her life -- are both repellent and fascinating. The author's strength is that she makes readers understand Margret's passionate love of birds and of these bird-related activities. Jacobs writes beautifully, even lyrically. The specificity of her writing is a pleasure, as are the convincing characters and the long, intelligent conversations she portrays. I highly recommend this novel.

Thank You, Translators

Translators are unsung heroes and heroines. I shudder to think of all the incredible writing I would have missed - an immeasurable loss - if there were no translators: the works of Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Chekhov, Flaubert, Colette, Camus, De Beauvoir, Proust, Dante, Mann, Lady Murasaki, Neruda, Tagore, and so many more, including the many, many translated older and contemporary novels, stories, and poems that I have read by authors from Africa, Asia, South America, and Europe. Some say "It's not the same as in the original language." Of course it's not the same, but the distance between "not the same" and "not at all" is vast! So thank you very much, translators! We owe you a great debt.

A Tribute to Carolyn Heilbrun

I recently read Carolyn G. Heilbrun's "The Last Gift of Time: Life Beyond Sixty" (Ballantine, 1997), but I have found myself hesitating to write about the book, and about the author, for fear of not being able to do justice to this wise feminist scholar and heroine. But I must try, because she is someone I admire tremendously; she wrote brilliantly about literature and about women, and was a pioneer in so many ways. This particular book is full of clear-eyed, honest wisdom about getting older, covering topics like long marriages, young friends, dogs, email, England, family, sadness, losses and gains. All of her books have been gifts to readers, especially women readers: scholarly but accessible, brilliant, fierce, feminist, humane, and informed by her deep knowledge of, and great love of, literature. So many of her books -- including "Toward a Recognition of Androgyny," "Reinventing Womanhood," "Writing a Woman's Life," and "Hamlet's Mother and Other Women," have been groundbreaking. And on top of writing these wonderful scholarly works, she wrote a series of entertaining, pointedly feminist mysteries under the pseudonym of Amanda Cross. She was one of the first women faculty in the Columbia University English Department, and she had to fight to be recognized there. After a long career and, eventually, great success there, she resigned in protest of the sexist treatment of other women faculty there. She also had a long marriage and raised three children. I was fortunate enough to hear her speak once, perhaps 25 years ago, and was in awe of her intellect, her originality, and her great focus on the fight for equity for women. I -- along with many other admirers -- was so sad when she died a few years ago, but the legacy of this strong and brilliant woman will live on for a long time. Thank you, Carolyn Heilbrun, for the joys of reading your amazing work, and for being such a brave and inspiring writer and woman.