72°f/22°C, again. Humid, light overcast. North of us had heavy storms yesterday, but nothing here, sadly.
When you think you're going to stay home and recover from a few days of hard work, then someone advertises a Hoosier-style cabinet for $40, what do you do? You get in the van and drive to Zanesville, Ohio. That was yesterday. Today? Getting that rest, I promise!
I finished my book, Circle of Grace, by Penelope J. Stokes, when we got home last night, and today I've started When We Believed in Mermaids, another by Barbara O'Neal.
Last week I read The Story Sisters by Alice Hoffman, an eerie tale, as most of hers are, about three sisters who invent an imaginary land and their own language as well. Reality in the form of an abuser and a tragic attempt to save a horse push the oldest and leader of the sisters deeper into her imaginary world, which becomes a dark and painful place, and creates divisions between the girls. Their single mother tries and often fails to control her daughters as the girls go through their teen years. Drugs, promiscuity and self-hurt dominate the older sister's life as her two siblings each try to cope in their own way, watching helplessly as the oldest spirals deeper and deeper into chaos. I like Alice Hoffman's books usually, so I plowed on with this one even though the story was for the most part not a happy one. There were enough flashes of light and hope to keep me going. In the end, I was glad I had stuck with it. It is not a story I will soon forget.
Circle of Grace also explored relationships between women who met as college roommates and tried to continue their bond with a journal that passed from one to another. The four friends go separate ways and record their lives in the journal, but each keeps the truth of their lives out of the journal, and instead give a rose-colorded and often fictional accounting. When Grace discovers she has terminal cancer, she invites the group for a weekend at a luxury spa, where she plans to tell the sad truth of her life, and ask forgiveness for her lies. But each of the three others also has secrets, and each comes to the retreat intending to come clean. This was a good read, often touching, often reverberating with the truths of the lives of so many women.
I have noticed that I seldom read any book by a man. Why is that? It's not a conscious choice, but I guess I find the female perspective more relatable. I think the last book I read that was written by a make author was A Gentleman in Moscow, which i enjoyed very much. Maybe I should try to find others by me that I would enjoy.
Meanwhile, I am enjoying When We Believed in Mermaids so far--another tale of sisters' relationships with an intriguing plot: the unexpected sighting on TV news of the sister who was supposed to be dead.
I think I will spend most of today just reading. Sounds like a fine idea!
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for sharing your thoughts! Comments are moderated so may not appear immediately, but be assured that I read and enjoy each and every word you write, and will post them as quickly as possible.