I spent part of this morning shopping at Cost Plus World Market for an assembly-required bookshelf to aid in my office renovation and reorganization project. I was just about to check out when perky clerk, Shannon, asked me if I needed any of the “amazing” products from the Eat, Pray, Love (the book written by Elizabeth Gilbert) part of the store. I must have unconsciously expressed irritation or disgust at that point because Shannon then asked if I had read the book. I said that I had not. She was soon deflated and sighed, “Oh my God. You have to read it! It’s amazing!” I explained that I tried to read the book but could not get past the author’s whining and self-pity in the beginning so I put it down. I further explained that I could not respect a person who, admittedly and for a lifetime, failed to see the beauty within and around her and found it necessary to travel the world to do so. An aside: Apparently I am one of few people who feel that way as this book has been on the New York Times Best Seller list for over 155 weeks (according to the author’s website).
Shannon, ever the customer service professional, then asked if I planned to see the film. I said no so, of course, she wanted to know why. Aside from the fact that the film is based on a book with a premise I found completely annoying (didn’t she get that from the first part of the conversation?), I shared my recent disenchantment with Julia Roberts who, in a recent interview on the Oprah Winfrey Show, claimed that she was resigned to sewing her children’s clothing by hand because of the recession. REALLY JULIA??? As if we all believe that YOU are suffering financially. For those who are somehow unaware, Julia Roberts will play the lead role in the Eat, Pray, Love film (apparently because she’d prefer to buy clothes at Baby Gap than continue to sew them and royalties from this project will enable her to do so). And because I have now relegated Julia to the status of the couch-jumping, Scientologist, Tom Cruise, I have no immediate plans to see that movie. Or read the rest of the book. My conversation with Cost Plus World Market Shannon underscored those facts.
Throughout at least several of the past 155 weeks, I’ve reflected upon the fact that I am not nor ever will be part of the EPL phenomena. I’m sure it’s a fine book for some. But really, the book’s content is too introspective and ultimately uplifting for my taste considering my penchant for "Debbie Downer" books. None of which should come as a surprise if you’ve been following this blog or have known me personally for longer than three hours. And that, finally, brings me to If I am Missing or Dead.
What a brilliant title for such a devastating novel. The author writes about her own bleak childhood, the abuse her mother endured from her father, and how both resulted in a second generation of victimization as both Latus and her favorite sister, Amy, married abusers. Latus ultimately escapes the horror of her own relationship. Amy does not.
This memoir, in many ways, reminded me of Jeannette Walls’, The Glass Castle. It shares themes of spousal abuse, women with escape strategies, and tragedy mixed with successes. It’s another book that women everywhere should read either to reaffirm their own healthy relationships or to see themselves within the Latus family dynamic and take action.
This book will live on my new Cost Plus shelf—as soon as I finish assembling it.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
We Need to Talk About Kevin (Lionel Shriver)
Some people just shouldn’t have children.
I say this after spending many years teaching kids who were, mostly, delightful. But of the two-hundred or so students I taught each year, every once in a while, a not-so-delightful kid appeared in my class. I’m not talking about the kid who brought a rat to my class in an attempt to derail my lesson plan. And I’m not talking about the kid who ate, with his hands, the cake I bought so my honors class could celebrate Shakespeare’s birthday. These boys (yep, both boys) were amateurs and acted out as a function of their immaturity. The not-so-delightful students I’m thinking of were ones I was certain, at the time, were future felons. Even at the tender age of fourteen, they exuded pure evil. Several names and associated offenses come to mind when I reminisce about that reality but I won’t list them here. And I hope their parents, the same people I pleaded with to pay careful attention to the behaviors I observed in class yet didn’t, appreciate that.
Kevin, the protagonist named in this book’s title, could have easily been one of the students I’m thinking about with one notable exception: his mother, Eva, was never in denial about the very different child he was nor the monster he was destined to become. She knew, as perhaps only a mother could, Kevin’s malicious, immoral and sociopathic psyche better than anyone. Even Eva’s beloved husband, Franklin,—seemingly estranged from her throughout the novel—rejected the idea that Kevin was socially unacceptable and exhibited gruesome behaviors despite the obvious.
Eva’s inherent ill feelings towards Kevin cause her to question, throughout the book, her decision to have children until Celia, her savior child and Kevin’s younger sister, is born; thus vindicating her role as a mother. Unfortunately, Kevin is a force greater than what Eva initially understands. His remorseless path of destruction is infinite and ultimately resonates in Eva’s relentless introspection about her decision to become a parent and how that decision resulted in the raising of an adolescent murderer.
Presented creatively in a series of letters to her husband, Eva tells a haunting story. In the end, those who have children will be left wondering if such horror could occur in their own families. Those who don’t (due to personal choice) may realize an affirmation regarding that decision.
I say this after spending many years teaching kids who were, mostly, delightful. But of the two-hundred or so students I taught each year, every once in a while, a not-so-delightful kid appeared in my class. I’m not talking about the kid who brought a rat to my class in an attempt to derail my lesson plan. And I’m not talking about the kid who ate, with his hands, the cake I bought so my honors class could celebrate Shakespeare’s birthday. These boys (yep, both boys) were amateurs and acted out as a function of their immaturity. The not-so-delightful students I’m thinking of were ones I was certain, at the time, were future felons. Even at the tender age of fourteen, they exuded pure evil. Several names and associated offenses come to mind when I reminisce about that reality but I won’t list them here. And I hope their parents, the same people I pleaded with to pay careful attention to the behaviors I observed in class yet didn’t, appreciate that.
Kevin, the protagonist named in this book’s title, could have easily been one of the students I’m thinking about with one notable exception: his mother, Eva, was never in denial about the very different child he was nor the monster he was destined to become. She knew, as perhaps only a mother could, Kevin’s malicious, immoral and sociopathic psyche better than anyone. Even Eva’s beloved husband, Franklin,—seemingly estranged from her throughout the novel—rejected the idea that Kevin was socially unacceptable and exhibited gruesome behaviors despite the obvious.
Eva’s inherent ill feelings towards Kevin cause her to question, throughout the book, her decision to have children until Celia, her savior child and Kevin’s younger sister, is born; thus vindicating her role as a mother. Unfortunately, Kevin is a force greater than what Eva initially understands. His remorseless path of destruction is infinite and ultimately resonates in Eva’s relentless introspection about her decision to become a parent and how that decision resulted in the raising of an adolescent murderer.
Presented creatively in a series of letters to her husband, Eva tells a haunting story. In the end, those who have children will be left wondering if such horror could occur in their own families. Those who don’t (due to personal choice) may realize an affirmation regarding that decision.
