The Power of Story; the Power of "Charlotte's Web"

I have written often about the power of narrative, of story, and how stories have always drawn me (as they do most human beings). I have also written here (12/22/22, for example) about the comfort of reading memoirs and novels during times of great loss. I thought about both of these ideas when recently, I am not sure why, the great children’s book, “Charlotte’s Web” (1952), written by E.B. White and illustrated by Garth Williams, came to mind. I remembered that when my mother read this book to me when I was about 5 or 6 years old, I would love it, but also would weep at the sad parts near the end, and then I would ask her to read it again, and again, and again. The sadness was part of the story, and painful as it was, the power of the story made me want to hear it again and again. And although sad, it is a lovely story, a story about love, nature, respect, and kindness. I can remember so clearly my feelings during those readings. As I said: the power of story. I am still absolutely and completely in thrall to that same power of story, these many decades and countless stories later. (P.S. Even if you are an adult, if you have never read “Charlotte’s Web,” please do! I am sure you will be moved by the words, the illustrations, the characters, the gentle humor, the pathos, and most of all, the story.)

"We Should Not Be Friends: The Story of a Friendship," by Will Schwalbe

So many books – both fiction and nonfiction – are written about romantic love and about family love, but far fewer are written about friendship. Yet for most of us, friendship is a huge and treasured component of our lives. I look out for books focusing on friendship, and I very much enjoyed Will Schwalbe’s memoir “We Should Not Be Friends: The Story of a Friendship” (Knopf, 2023). The author writes of a lifelong friendship with a young man he met in college, Chris Maxey, known to all as Maxey. The author, a gay man interested in the arts, was biased against the “jocks” at Yale, yet when he joined a secret society there, he and Maxey –- a straight man and a star wrestler -- against all expectations became closer and closer friends, and their friendship only deepened throughout the years. They continued to live very different lives after college, yet they both dealt with matters of family, romance, career, and aging, and they became great supporters of each other. Schwalbe grew to admire Maxey deeply for his work as an educator and an environmentalist, and for his utter loyalty as a friend. This memoir moves along briskly, with stops for reflecting on friendship (and life, more generally). The writer is an excellent storyteller, and the two protagonists have each had interesting and fulfilling lives. But the best part of the memoir is the throughline of the friendship between the two men. This friendship meant and means so much to each of them, and has been such a sustaining part of each of their lives, even when they sometimes didn’t see each other for fairly long periods of time, and even occasionally fell out slightly over a disagreement or misunderstanding. It is a story which is compelling and even inspiring, without trying to be stereotypically “inspiring.” I truly appreciated this thoughtful and enjoyable look at two very relatable men and their long friendship. ________

"Hello Beautiful," by Ann Napolitano

“Hello Beautiful” (Dial Press, 2023), by Ann Napolitano, is a gorgeously written novel. It focuses on all my favorite themes: family, love, friendship, the passing of time, emotions, what changes and what stays the same in life, and more. The family at the center of the story is, in a very real sense, collectively the main character. Loosely – very loosely – an “homage” to the famous story “Little Women,” the Padavano family, of Chicago, consists of four sisters who argue about who is Beth and who is Jo in “Little Women,” but they are extremely close…until they aren’t (for a while…). They have a loving but strict and even at times unforgiving mother, and a loving but alcoholic and somewhat ineffectual father. The other main character is William, who grew up in a very cold family, one that was nearly destroyed by the death of William’s adored sister at the age of three, and never recovered. He basically falls in love with the whole Padavano family. Other relatives, friends, neighbors, and classmates are characters as well, winding in and out of the story. The interactions among these characters over the years are intense and volatile. The plot keeps us interested, and the reader (at least this reader) becomes caught up in the strong relationships and emotions. I want to emphasize how well the novel is written; the same events in a lesser writer’s hands would perhaps seem run-of-the-mill, but Napolitano creates something original and special here. A bonus for me: William is a basketball player and later a “physio” who works with basketball players, and the author describes many aspects of the basketball world. (But don't worry if you are not a basketball fan; this part of the novel is fairly small.) It happens that basketball is the one sport I watch somewhat regularly (see my post of 3/29/23 about why I like to read the sports section of the newspaper). In the acknowledgements section, Napolitano mentions that she is a Golden State Warriors fan (that’s my team!) and specifically mentions a few players such as our star, Steph Curry, “for the joy with which he plays.” My sentiments exactly!

"The Chinese Groove," by Kathryn Ma

The descriptions in reviews of “The Chinese Groove” (Counterpoint, 2023), a novel by Kathryn Ma, did not immediately draw me in. But I had read Ma’s previous book, “All That Work and Still No Boys,” and very much liked it, so I thought I would try this novel. An added attraction was that it takes place (mostly) in San Francisco. The term “the Chinese groove” refers to what (some) new immigrants from China to the U.S. believe and hope will be true: that the network of already-settled-in-the-U.S. family members, friends, and even new acquaintances will help smooth the way for new immigrants, helping them find jobs, housing, and more. In the experience of the protagonist of this novel, whose American name is Shelley, this belief turns out to be, at various times, both very untrue and then sometimes very true. Shelley is a character who is both very naïve and very smart, one who picks up vibes and nuances quite quickly. He learns to “use” people but not in an obnoxious or harmful way; he is actually very loyal to anyone even tangentially related to him, and/or anyone who is kind to him. And he truly cares about the people he meets along the way in his new situation. He is a romantic at heart. He – and the novel – are also very funny. We readers are happy to follow along as Shelley finds his way.

"Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow," by Gabriel Zevin

I never thought I would enjoy reading a novel about video game designers. I have never played a video game, or really, in my adult life, any games at all other than the very occasional card or board game. But the reviews lured me in, and I read Gabrielle Zevin’s 400-page novel, “Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow” (Knopf, 2022) in about two days. The gaming world, or at least this version of it, was more interesting to me than I expected. It was good for me to explore this world so different from my own. But of course the elements that made me read the novel so quickly were the ones I always look for in good fiction: interesting characters, relatable situations, much focus on relationships among the characters, and themes of identity, family, and yes, love in all its varieties. The two main characters, Sadie and Sam, the ones whose games become famous, have known each other since childhood, and have become bonded as friends and something greater than friends, although not lovers. Along with creativity and success, there are bumps, misunderstandings, and even tragedies along the way. But what drew them to each other persists.

Four Novels Recently Read

As regular visitors to this blog might remember, I do not post on all the books I read. Sometimes I have no strong feelings about a certain book; or it is too forgettable; or maybe I am embarrassed to post about a book that is not very literary but is a “guilty pleasure”; or perhaps I have read so many books at that time that I am too far behind to post about each one, even the ones not in the other categories listed above. Occasionally I do what I am about to do now: instead of trying to post a full entry about each book, I “catch up” by listing several books I have recently read and liked, and a very brief summary of and/or response to each one. I liked each of the following four novels very much. So without further ado, in the order I recently read them: 1. “Strangers and Cousins” (Riverhead, 2019), by Leah Hager Cohen, is a novel revolving around the days leading up to and including a wedding at the rural home of one bride’s parents. The events of those days reveal the history of, and relationships among, the family and friends of the two brides. The author beautifully explores the complexities and the joys of close family networks, with all their quirks, missteps and misunderstandings along the way. 2. “Vintage Contemporaries” (Harper, 2023), by Dan Kois, tells a version of a story we have all read: young friends in New York City (here, Emily and Emily, confusingly enough at first but we readers figure it out) are hopeful as they start off their careers and families, have ups and downs in their friendships, yet always feel the pull of those friendships well into their future lives. In this novel, one is a writer, both (but one more than the other) participate in the political process of “squatting” in empty buildings; each eventually finds her own way, and finds her way back to her friend, years later. 3. The story of a young Chinese American woman who leaves her small town in Illinois, and her very difficult relationship with her strict immigrant mother, for a life in New York City, and then returns to Illinois for a visit eight years later with her new fiancé, “Central Places” (Ballantine, 2023), by Delia Cai, is about family, the tug-of-war between first generation immigrants and their children, and another tug-of-war between one’s roots and one’s new chosen life. Love and friendship are also tested in this story. 4. A powerful, even wrenching recounting of two young people who were sent to a conversion camp to “cure” them of being gay, “Tell the Rest” (Akashic, 2023), by Lucy Jane Bledsoe, moves back and forth between, on the one hand, the terrible experiences at that camp and between the two friends who escaped together, and on the other hand, the lives of these two young people as they are in the present, twenty-five years later.

"The Beauty of Dusk," by Frank Bruni

I first came to know Frank Bruni’s writing when he was the restaurant critic for The New York Times, and I savored his clever, vivid reviews. He has also had other writing roles at The New York Times and elsewhere, in addition to writing several books. His new memoir, “The Beauty of Dusk” (Avid Reader, 2022), focuses on the story of a stroke he had that seriously affected his vision. He writes of the treatments he had, the various emotions he went through, and what he learned from the experience (which is ongoing, although now somewhat better). That story is certainly compelling. What makes the book even more of interest is that Bruni interweaves his own story with those of others with similar or related medical situations, and more generally with those of people who have experienced various types of setbacks and challenges in life. He explores how people handle these situations, logistically but especially emotionally and psychologically. He writes quite candidly about his own life, feelings, limitations, and growth. Of course, understandably so, he is sometimes sad, angry, worried, and feels sorry for himself at times. But he also takes the opportunity of his medical problem to learn, to adjust his attitude, to see the positive side of even such injuries, and to develop a sense of appreciation of and gratitude for the many joys of life. This sounds like an “inspirational” self-help book, and there is perhaps a small element of that, but Bruni is too good a writer and thinker, and too generous with his own experiences and feelings, for the book to be put in the “self-help” box. He writes so well that any insights, any epiphanies he has feel so natural as he shares them with us, and seem, quite honestly, like a gift to us, his readers.