"She Matters," by Susanna Sonnenberg

When Susanna Sonnenberg published her first memoir, “Her Last Death,” I read the reviews and decided not to read the book; that story of her fraught relationship with her very difficult (narcissistic, drug-addicted) mother sounded extremely depressing. (I know that should not be a reason not to read a book, but I confess that for me, sometimes that IS a reason.) But when I saw that Sonnenberg had written a new memoir, “She Matters: A Life in Friendships” (Scribner, 2013), I was drawn to the book because it was about female friendships, a favorite topic of mine. I thought that it would be about how the author’s friendships helped and healed her after the trauma and sadness of her relationship with her mother, and that it would be a love song to the wonderful friendships that women are able to create, and that so sustain us. Certainly there is some element of that in the book. The author herself states that she has been constantly looking for replacements for her mother, in one shape or another. And Sonnenberg has had many close relationships with women over the years, often very intense, full of shared confidences, mutual support, and much time spent together. But somehow most of these friendships -- from those of her youth and college years through those of her young adulthood and of mothering young children, and beyond -- end. Sometimes they end because the friends drift away, and in one case because the friend died, but very often they end more dramatically, with a sudden break, a fight, or a statement of rejection that rings with finality. These breaks often come as a complete surprise to the author, and are beyond painful for her. This happens over and over again, and the author does not seem to develop much understanding of why it happens, although she does acknowledge that she has been told that she is too intense, and demands too much of her friends. I give Sonnenberg much credit for her candor and courage in telling these stories, stories that often do not show her at her best. And I feel very sad for her, both because of her terrible mother (their relationship ended in estrangement and finally in her mother’s death) (and her relationship with her father was better but quite fraught as well, right up to his death), and because of these many failed friendships. Once again, as in so many memoirs, this memoir shows what a huge handicap it is in life not to have had during childhood (and later as well) the unconditional love and support of one's parents, that love that the more fortunate among us have had. I also admire that the author did develop more self-awareness along the way, and did work on herself and tried to teach herself how to live a more normal and fulfilled life than her mother had prepared her to do. My disappointment with the book’s not being the story of happy, fulfilling friendships is unfair, in asking the reality – and the book -- to be something it is not and could not be; it is Sonnenberg’s story, after all. I must say that the author was able to make it a compelling read that caught me up in its twists and turns, and I never considered not reading it to the end. Still, the main feeling I left the memoir with was that “She Matters” is an deeply unsettling and unhappy book.

"In Flight Entertainment," by Helen Simpson

Helen Simpson is an astute, brilliant writer of short stories. On 12/31/12, I wrote about her collection, “In the Driver’s Seat.” Today I write about her latest collection: “In Flight Entertainment” (Knopf, 2012). Simpson appears to be writing better than ever, but the tone of her writing has darkened. Several of the stories grapple with the acceleration of climate change and its devastating effects. Further, they deal despairingly with the ignorance and resistance with which many people face this global emergency. It seems that Simpson feels she has to do something about this, through her fiction, but perhaps does not have much faith than humankind will be willing to acknowledge the problem or, especially, to make the needed changes and even sacrifices to stave off further destruction. Not all of her stories focus on this issue; there are insightful views of love and marriage, age and youth, among other themes. And I don’t mean that her stories that do so are didactic, although they verge into that territory. But they feel urgent, very urgent. I fear even as I write this that readers will be discouraged from reading these stories, feeling they will be lectured at. But I urge reading this book, not just for the author’s message, but for the intensity, vividness, and flat-out good writing to be found in these stories.

"Pride and Prejudice" Again and Again

Once again, I savored every word of the novel. I laughed in recognition at favorite parts; I was eager for the story to continue; I appreciated bits that I have read and heard many times but just now suddenly focused on as if for the first time; I loved every minute of it and didn’t want it to end. Yes, readers, I have just listened yet again to the beloved novel I have read and listened to on tape or CD so many times that I have completely lost count: Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice.” I re-read all of Austen's novels many times, and never tire of any of them, but most especially I never tire of this one. I know this extreme fandom is completely unoriginal; the novel has had millions of readers and admirers over the years, from scholars to fans known as Janeites. And on the surface, it is hard to explain why this novel is so great, and why I love it so much. Yes, I am an Anglophile, and yes, I enjoy novels about women’s lives and relationships. Yes, Austen is incredibly psychologically and socially astute and aware of how people think and behave, with every little foible and self-delusion noted. And yes, her witty observations and dialogue are unmatched. But none of that explains Austen’s novels’ appeal adequately. I have tried to explain a bit on this blog – see my posts of 1/25/10, 10/31/10, 12/16/10, 2/15/11, and 2/27/12, for example – but I know my words have been most inadequate. In any case, I will keep re-reading and re-listening to "Pride and Prejudice" for the rest of my reading days, and it will always be an unfailing and thorough pleasure to do so.

Third Anniversary of StephanieVandrickReads

Today is the third anniversary of this blog. I have written 728 posts, on roughly 400 books and 100 authors, along with a couple of dozen lists and numerous posts on various reading experiences. I have written about old favorites and brand new books, mostly novels but also memoirs, other nonfiction, poetry, art books, newspapers and magazines. Several friends and family members have been kind enough to contribute guest posts. My topics have included libraries, bookstores, family book stories, reading to children, issues of gender and class in the book world, giving books, keeping books (or not), book covers, book blurbs, book reviews, book prizes, banned books, e-readers, literary cities (San Francisco, New York, London, Paris), vacation reading, reading groups, and many more. It has been a labor of love for me, a lifelong constant reader, to write these posts about books, authors, and reading experiences and issues. I am so appreciative of those who have let me know that they have read and enjoyed the blog, and have shared their thoughts on books and other topics. Please keep letting me know your thoughts on these posts and on your own book recommendations and reading experiences, either by commenting here, or by emailing me (vandricks@usfca.edu).

"Testament of Mary," by Colm Toibin

I am a great admirer of Colm Toibin’s fiction. I was absorbed by “The Master,” a novel about Henry James, and more recently, have written here about his novel “Brooklyn” (1/28/10) and about his short story collection “The Empty Family” (1/28/11), both wonderful. And I wrote on 12/4/12 about hearing this author interviewed on the radio show “Fresh Air” about his new book, “Testament of Mary” (Scribner, 2012), which I have now read. This, like “The Master,” is a novelized version of a real person’s life; in this case, the subject is Mary, mother of Jesus. This slim book challenges all the traditional portrayals of Mary as “docile, loving, silent, long-suffering, obedient, worshipful,” as the flap copy puts it, and shows her as an ordinary woman caught up in an extraordinary, confusing and frightening story. Toibin’s Mary, the aging Mary many years after Jesus’ death, does not accept the portrayal of her son that is being promulgated by his followers. She does not agree that he is the Son of God; she distrusts his followers who now try to shape his story and to get her to conform to their version of events; and she is regretful and ashamed that she did not stay at the Cross until the end, because she wanted to save herself. This is a dark, sad version of the New Testament stories, the ones that Christians and others raised in Christian-influenced societies base their historical and religious beliefs on still today. But it is a very human one, one that makes readers consider that events were perhaps not as straightforward as they are portrayed in the Bible. I imagine we will never know exactly how the events of Jesus’ life really happened, but Toibin’s book pushes us to imagine a wider range of possibilities.

"I Knew You'd Be Lovely," by Alethea Black

As I mentioned 1/3/13, I recently read and was completely taken by a short story by Alethea Black, and resolved to seek out more of her work; I have now read her short story collection, “I Knew You’d Be Lovely” (Broadway Paperbacks, 2011) and am very impressed by her sure-handed control of the short story genre. She writes about love, loneliness, hope, imagination and more, all in very contemporary contexts. But far from being abstract, the situations she portrays are original, surprising, even startling. I have been thinking lately about how the best short stories seem very real but still manage to startle us, and Black’s stories are perfect examples of this combination. And they are, as my most treasured works always are, about relationships, in this case between parents and children, lovers, family members, an artist and his model, and in one intriguing case, a teacher and his student many years after she was in his class. The author provides readers with an additional gift at the end of the collection: she writes “Author’s Notes” on each story, telling us something about “the backstories to stories and snippets about [her] creative process.”

Yet More Re-reading of Joan Didion: “The White Album”

I have been re-reading some of Joan Didion’s work (see my post of 1/9/13 and earlier posts mentioned in that one) and, having now re-read “The White Album” (Simon and Schuster, 1979), continue to be astounded by the freshness, the immediacy of her writing. The settings of these essays range from California and New York and other mainland U.S. sites to Honolulu and to Colombia, South America. Topics include shopping-center theory, the Black Panthers, the Hoover Dam, migraine, Bishop James Pike, Doris Lessing, Georgia O’Keeffe, and the Women’s Movement. Didion’s wide-ranging interests and subjects are impressive, but more impressive is how she draws readers in, so that before we know it, we are actually fascinated by, for example, shopping-center theory. No matter how unpromising the topic seems, or how outside the reader's usual interests, Didion makes it come alive and makes us care about it. The more I read Didion’s recent work (her memoirs about her husband’s death and her daughter’s illness and death), and re-read her earlier work (especially her essays), the more I am convinced she is one of our greatest living writers.