All posts by Helen C

My Year in Books

My goal was modest: to read at least 2 books a month this year. And it was going really well. By July 2nd, I was finishing book 22. You might even say I was feeling a little bit cocky.

Then July and most of August came and went and I didn’t so much as crack the spine of a new book. I read one book on vacation in late August. Then in September and and most of October – nothing.

Finally in late October, I managed to finish a small volume, a memoir, thereby completing my goal almost a month early. Since then I’ve read just three more and am partly through Regards by John Gregory Dunne.

As I finished each book, I made a few sparse notes:

  1. The Day I Became an Autodidact by Kendall Hailey

    The author was in her late teens when she decided to educate herself at home in lieu of going to college. I enjoyed her story despite her youthful pretension. Reminded me of myself at around the same age — way less sophisticated than I thought I was.

  2. The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion

    Didion’s memoir of the year following the sudden death of her husband on December 30th, 2003. Heartbreaking.

  3. Light On Snow by Anita Shreve

    Young girl and her widowed father find a newborn baby left to die in the snowy New Hampshire woods. Interesting tale but the protagonist seemed too young for the vocabulary and opinions attributed to her. Maybe I understimate age levels, but I have known 20, 30 and 40 year olds who can’t express themselves half so well.

  4. Marley and Me by John Grogan

    Memoir about a dog. I should have known the dog would die. Still, amusing and touching account of life with an unruly labrador retriever.

  5. Best of Women’s Short Stories by multiple authors

    I loved “Ladies in Lavender” from this collection, and “Marriage a la mode” by Kathleen Mansfield. Overall a good read. These were stories about women, not strictly stories by female writers (although many were both).

  6. Knitting–A Novel by Anne Bartlett

    I was struck by the richness of internal dialogue in each character–contrasted with how spare the communication among them was. We are so little known by (or able to know) others.

  7. Stranger On the Square by Arthur and Cynthia Koestler

    I first read this book while living Geneva. I guess CK resonated with me at that time. The man in my life then was certainly no Arthur (who was something of monster to live with), but his ideas were somewhat more fixed and forceful than mine and I admired that the way CK admired AK. This time, she was just annoying. And then the whole double suicide thing … I just don’t get that at all. Cynthia, honey, he just wasn’t worth it.

  8. Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton

    Technically, another re-read (and, my heavens, an attempt at double suicide), but shorter and so very beautifully written.

  9. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

    Good, but I got a little bored. I guess I don’t identify/empathize with extremely precocious pre-adolescent boys even if they have lost a parent in 9/11. What is wrong with me.

  10. The Jane Austen Book Club by Karen Joy Fowler

    Despite the promising reference to one of my favorite authors, I found this too lightweight and predictable.

  11. On Beauty by Zadie Smith

    Hey, I actually liked this one, but I didn’t realize at first that it was a “tribute” to EM Forster’s “Howard’s End.” She could have stolen less from him, but at least the end surprised me.

  12. Mapping the Edge by Sarah Dunant

    Well done. Satisfying and interesting story. Or I should say stories. Both versions describing the same outward circumstances were credible in their own way and kept me on the edge of my seat.

  13. Child of My Heart by Alice McDermott

    This one seemed short, but mostly good. Again with the wise-beyond-her-years adolescent protagonist. But she had a tenderness that made me care about her.

  14. The Mermaid Chair by Sue Monk Kidd

    I don’t know why I liked this book so much, but I did. My notes say “enjoyable and realistic” but when I think about it now, I have to wonder what I meant. I don’t think there are a lot of middle-aged married women out there having passionate affairs with (no longer celibate) monks. Just a guess.

  15. The Tenth Circle by Jodi Picoult

    Gripping, good read. Not entirely real, but close to the bone, especially the theme of self-deceit.

  16. Life of Pi by Yann Martel

    I was repulsed at first at the bit where the zookeeper father has his sons observe a goat being eaten by wild cats, but I stuck with it and was rewarded with this:

    “It’s important in life to conclude things properly. Only then can you let go. Otherwise you are left with words you should have said but never did and your heart is heavy with remorse.”

  17. Piano Lessons – Music, Love and True Adventures by Noah Adams

    Would that my true adventures included buying a Steinway piano and attending the Autumn Sonata workshop, but still a good, quiet read.

  18. Leap of Faith – Memoirs of an Unexpected Life by Queen Noor

    I’ve always been curious about Queen Noor. She’s not so far from my age and was an American when she married the much older King Hussein of Jordan. It was unfathomable to me at the time. Her memoir gave me a perspective lacking in media coverage of the middle east.

  19. Let Me Finish by Roger Angell

    At times I wished he would finish, but mostly a good if rambling memoir. The last chapter “Hard Lines” was particularly moving. I also enjoyed the inside perspective on EB White.

  20. The Myth of You and Me by Leah Stewart

    I liked it. Read it fast. I wasn’t hugely impressed with Oliver’s big secret but I cared about everyone else.

  21. Everyday Matters by Nardie Reeder Campion

    Fun memoir. Campion is engaging if flighty. Still, this is pretty much what I expect from a memoir.

  22. Digging to America by Anne Tyler

    Very Anne Tyler, which is to say I liked it a lot and it wasn’t entirely predictable.

  23. We Were the Mulvaneys by Joyce Carol Oates

    Good novel, but she went a little long and then seemed to get bored and wrapped it up fast and neat.

  24. The Plain Truth by Jodi Picoult

    Another good novel. Big city lawyer goes to live among the Amish and learns what life is about.

  25. Are You Happy? by Emily Fox Gordon

    Another memoir, and although I did not grow up fat and unpopular, and get institutionalized instead of finishing college … I could still identify!

  26. The Piano Shop on the Left Bank by Thad Carhart

    I wanted to love this book, but really only just liked it a little. Somehow it just didn’t touch me.

  27. Tolstoy Lied – A Novel by Rachel Kadish

    Bordering on chick-lit, the genre where an independent single woman steers through the rocky shoals of love, with the support of one wacky (also single) girlfriend, one stable (read, married) girlfriend, and one male friend (who too often turns out to be her “true” love). This one avoided some of those pitfalls and was a good read.

Merry Christmas!

We are having a quiet day, relaxing and contemplating the Christmas tree. The past few weeks have flown by, filled with work and activity so it is nice to have some “down” time.

It has been a long time since I last posted. I’ve been laid low by a cough that would not go away. When you cough for 22 days straight, you start to feel a little tired, and that’s where I was when I finally gave in and saw a doctor on Friday. Having been brought up in Christian Science, it always makes me feel a bit of a failure to seek medical help. I also have a general suspicion that western medicine has a tendency to cut what it could untie, but then again, sometimes a little codeine helps.

Last night was the big night at St. James. At the “midnight” mass, we sang most of Mozart’s Missa Brevis in F Major, and it was so much fun. We had string instrumentalists, David Gay at the organ, and four wonderful soloists. After the ordeal of singing “Morning Star” as part of a trio in the morning service, I was quite ready to be one of the alto pack again. There is something very satisfying and secure about being in a group of altos. Dave recorded it and we will probably be posting some of that music shortly.

In particular, I would like to mention that our tenor, Oliver, held up his section (being a section of one) beautifully, all the while singing his solos, conducting the rest of us and supporting the basses on some of their entrances. His voice just floats above it all. And I can’t not mention Bitsy’s beautiful soprano shining through, too. The other soloists are no less deserving of praise. They were Sue singing alto and my own sweet Dave singing bass.

Today we’re planning a quiet roast chicken dinner. We had the ultimate fabulous Christmas dinner on Saturday at Heidi’s. Bruce pulled out all the stops as usual and produced a meal to die for. I don’t know how he does it, but he certainly gives the rest of us something to aspire to.

I hope you’re having a lovely Christmas with good people, good food and good music, too.

December 19, 1997

My diagnosis. Mine. You hear it over
and over at the cancer center.
Funny this need to own it.

Mine came at me from nowhere.
One minute at the crowded office holiday party.
Secret Santa surprise.

The next alone in my cold kitchen,
playing back the message from the doctor:
“Call me at home. Anytime. Please!”

Doctors don’t give you their
Home phone number for no good reason.

The kitchen floor was hard. My high heels
Clicking nervously after I dialed and paced and paced.

The phone rang slowly. One dog threw herself
Down at my feet and snorted, expecting dinner.

And then I was curled on the couch,
Both dogs agitating around me, throwing their black,
sealskin bodies at me, bringing me back to life.