A favorite commercial ...

Unfortunately, embedding is disabled but if you're interested in checking it out, you can see it here. You go girls! :)

Humanity between two covers

I've always believed that books choose people, and reading Kaye Gibbons' A Virtuous Woman only convinced me of that further.

I picked the book up back in May at a used book sale benefiting a D.C. library. It was one of two dozen that I carried out in a 11" by 15" cardboard box provided by the volunteers when they saw me struggling with my newly purchased loot.

There was a rawness that resonated with me from the back cover's description: 

 "When Blinking Jack Stokes met Ruby Pitt Woodrow, she was twenty and he was forty. She was the carefully raised daughter of Carolina gentry and he was a skinny tenant farmer who had never owned anything in his life. She was newly widowed after a disastrous marriage to a brutal drifter. He had never asked a woman to do more than help him hitch a mule. They didn't fall in love so much as they simply found each other and held on for dear life."

I didn't reach for the book until last night and finished it this morning. Gibbons allocates alternating chapters to Jack and Ruby's reminiscences of their lives before and with each other, told at various points of time -- and in the case of Ruby, from the grave (something the reader discovers on the first page of the first chapter).

Gibbons' book feels less like a novel and more like time spent chatting on the porch with someone you've known most of your life. Her writing in a consistent Carolina dialect, her attention to detail in constructing a believable world, and the complexity of her characters' emotions in the face of life's heartaches allow them to step off the page fully formed.

The conclusion of the book, though moving and somewhat satisfying, felt rushed and tacked on to the otherwise thoughtful narrative, however. The entrance of an omniscient narrator who had never appeared before the last chapter was jarring and the last few pages felt as if Gibbons ran out of steam in trying to tie up the loose ends. A reliance on an increased amount of internal dialogue also was introduced in the final chapter, adding to the reader's disorientation. Lastly, the book seems to be set in the peak of 1950s life in the South, which includes allusions to racial inequality and prejudice that offends modern sensibilities. (I understand it was written to reflect realistically that time period).

Those weaknesses aside, A Virtuous Woman is worth reading. The themes of struggling with man's quest for immortality and wrestling with society -- both in trying to conform to its demands and in aiming to beat its expectations -- were portrayed with vulnerability that comes from a compassionate author's alertness to human nature and the world around her.

I'm richer for having been picked by this gem of a book.

Blowing the dust off the blog ...

During my blogging hiatus, I put reading on pause, too. Between giving up writing and reading, well, you can imagine I felt like a stranger in my own body. But sometimes, you get so busy living, thinking and observing that you have to step away from what gives you security in Life and just follow your Self's lead.

The tidal flow of expression in my life is something I long ago had to accept. There are times when my thoughts crash upon the shore with a steadiness and reliability in the rhythm that it's hard to imagine that ever changing; but then, just like that, the waters calm and I know I'm in the resting phase when it's time to go out and seek inspiration in the world around me before my next creative phase comes.

Thank you for not giving up on me. Here's to the past and future.

Retreat from city life

Beauty and peace in a sunrise at Cavas Wine Lodge in Mendoza. 

(Photo by M.G.H.)

Keeping it real

While traveling recently, I had the privilege of flying in business class for a leg of the trip. Thankfully, it came after a flight traveled in coach class, which prompted the following reflection:

I must admit a dichotomy in my senses: awe and appreciation for the feeling of limitlessness and pleasure in the taste of luxury; but also, discomfort and disillusionment at the implications, especially in the stark contrast in treatment between coach and business classes.

It is a reminder in humility and staying grounded that the same person can be treated without significance on one flight and waited on hand and foot 4 hours later. If ever there were evidence that money rules our society, it is this situation. Nothing about me has changed in the last four hours, except perhaps the newly acquired (and much-bemoaned) stain on my shirt. And, if anything, in today's image-conscious world, this would make me less likely to be the subject of groveling.

Note to self: Remember this, should you ever be in situations where others esteem you. Attention is fickle and the only thing that could be more uncomfortable than coach class is facing yourself when others' opinion of you deflates and you realize you bought into the illusion of being more important than you are.

12 months

A year ago today I received the "last word" from my ex-boyfriend via an email. The past twelve months have brought freedom, struggles, independence, sadness, but above all, a renewed sense of self. Today I celebrate my growth, the distance I've traveled and the way Life marches on.

My "last word"? Silence.

Long time no see!

I've been out of the country for the last two weeks. I had hoped to do a setup post beforehand but after pulling two all-nighters before my departure, I realized that wasn't going to happen. I'm back now after a wonderful trip to Argentina (more on that to come), but for now, this is how I feel after traveling for 30 hours and then working a full day.