October (10th Anniversary) December 2014 Book Club: "War Brides" and "Crazy Rich Asians"

Hi Everyone,

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!  This has been a very different Christmas and overall year. As most of you know, we buried my husband’s mother, Marilyn, on December 20. When I look back over the previous months before her passing, it is clear that our lives are not random. Like the authors who write the plots of the novels we read, every decision we make and every event that takes place are puzzle pieces, the building blocks of our personal stories, stories that are meant to be written and performed by each one of us.

 2014, from its start to finish, and especially the season of Christmas was determined to teach me much. In fitting together the year’s puzzle pieces, I have learned that the traditions and celebrations we share as family and friends are invaluable. I’m reminded as I look back on each highlight that every memory is so vital to my life’s story. In February, we celebrated Daniadh joining our family, Tim and Rachel’s Scottish shepherd. In March, we supported my mother in her move to the Parker Personal Care Home. In April, Tim and I rejoiced in the news of becoming expectant grandparents. In May, we celebrated the engagement of my son to his lovely fiancée Rachel Horne. In June, I cherished each and every memory our entire family shared during our week’s vacation at Folly Beach in Charleston, SC, (my grandson’s “reveal party,” my sister Lori’s “60^th birthday,” and “kayaking with dolphins!”). In July, after two weeks of study in Yogaville, VA, I celebrated earning a certification in Heart and Cancer Therapeutic Yoga. In August, our family gathered for a weekend in Washington, D.C., to honor my daughter’s marriage to Andy Schulz. In September, more celebrating ensued as I proudly hosted in our home a baby shower for my soon to be born grandson.  September was an exceptionally busy month of celebrations. We attended a neighbor's wedding and celebrated my brother-in-law and sister-in-laws' anniversary. In October we joined them again at their surprise 60 birthday and retirement party. All of these joyous occasions were preparatory for the most amazing event of the year, the birth of my grandchild, Ike Anderson Schulz, on October 30, at Walter Reed Medical Center. Since the day I helped my daughter birth Ike into this world, and Tim and I became grandparents, my heart has not been the same. Life just seems different.

Only days before Ike’s birth, at the October book club, I felt a strong sense that a change was about to occur. I noticed it first when we canceled our club’s yearly Christmas party on the premise that holidays were just too hectic a time to celebrate (what were we thinking?). In November, smashing into a deer and tarnishing our record with Erie Insurance was another indication that 2014 was not to end as it started. Recalling back to just before Thanksgiving, I even canceled my annual family Christmas Eve party, one I have hosted for exactly 30 years, reasoning that it was because my children would not be attending (I’ll never cancel again!). Luckily, our family celebrated Thanksgiving at our home and we enjoyed five days with our grandson, introducing him to friends and family - cousins, aunts, uncles, and “great-grandparents.” 

Then December arrived, and we were caught off guard. Less than two weeks after my children returned to their out-of-state homes from our Thanksgiving holiday, we called for them to return to Butler, unexpectedly, to say their good-byes to their beloved grandmother. Staying only a few days then returning again to their homes, once more we called them to drive back for their grandmother’s funeral service. In retrospect, it is clear that in 2014 there was a paradigm shift. It was the closing of another chapter in my life’s story while the start of another, as if the honor of grand-parenting had been passed on to me like an Olympic torch, and with it, more puzzle pieces to fit together, to write my trilogy. 

As the year comes to an end and we have literally greeted one new life and let go of another, I am reminded that the true gifts of this holiday season, this existence, are the times we spend together with the ones we love. My mother-in-law’s gift-giving heart shines as a model to me. Her benevolent nature united us as a family, for every occasion, no matter how small; she celebrated each with a gift. But her true legacy, which is now very clear, is not in the gifts she gave, but in the “spirit” in which she gave them. Consequently, it is her spirit, I hope, that will always remain with us. 

With that noted, our book club, Butler Women of Wisdom, with a corresponding generosity, donated to the Butler Hospital again this year. In the spirit of sharing our love of books, our secretary Cheryl will use the money we collected to provide another of the hospital’s centers with a reading corner for children. Cheryl organized a favorable library with our contributions last year, so I am certain this year's dollars will provide many more children with cherished moments of reading.

In December our book club met to discuss the novel Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan. Like our own lives, the lives of Kwan’s characters are carefully constructed.  Kwan rooted them in Chinese aristocracy; their lineages may be traced back to family fortunes. With multiple ancestral histories, it was sometimes difficult to keep track of the puzzle pieces that supported Kwan’s characters. Despite this fact, the great lengths the author took to introduce minor characters such as Eddie Cheng, the tyrant husband of Fiona and abusive father of 3 children; and Alistair Cheng, the wayward son of the Shang fortune who shamed the family with his engagement to a soap opera star, cultivated the ground for developing the main characters, Nick Young and Rachel Chu, who ultimately overcame the idiotic influence of their crazy rich Asian relatives and acquaintances. 

In Kwan’s novel, despite the disgustingly lavish living and selfishness of many of the characters, there were archetypical heroes and heroines who did not take their inherited or earned wealth for granted and, like my mother-in-law Marilyn, understood the true meaning of gift-giving. In the spirit of the season, I’ll speak of them as the three wise “the wonderfully wise” the magi. Nick Young, Peik Lin, and Charlie Wu were acute to the needs of those whom they loved and unselfishly provided for them. The first of the wise, Charlie, gave up on the love of his life, the stunning and beautiful Astrid Leong, only to help her win back the man of her dreams, her husband Michael. By buying Michael’s company for millions above its value, Charlie hoped to restore Michael’s dignity, so that Michael might feel worthy of Astrid’s crazy rich Asian family. The second wisest, Peik Lin, the granddaughter of a self-made millionaire in Singapore, thinks nothing of spending thousands on a wardrobe for her longtime friend Rachel Chu, so that Rachel may appear remarkable and acceptable to her boyfriend Nick Young’s snobbish family. 
Finally, the wisest of the wise, Nick, our heroine, a humble and modest heir of a fortune, performs the knight on the shining white horse scene at the end of the novel by restoring Rachel’s faith in his sincerity. He flies his private jet across the world to California and returns to Singapore with Rachel’s mother so that mother and daughter can restore their recently damaged relationship. Similarly, the spirit of these three wise gift-givers is “true” and “true” is defined by “devoted.” “Devoted,” in fact, in its original context means “loving.” Nick, Peik Lin, and Charlie gave without concern for their own discomfort or benefit. But as love is always a resulting benefit in gift-giving, as was my mother-in-law, all those who are wise are ineffably motivated by devotion, by love. 

Crazy Rich Asians was a mutually enjoyable book. Although it was not a book in which words of wisdom were provided in context but were more or less provided in the actions of the characters. We learned both through their displays of ego and prejudice as well as through their acts of generosity and humility.

Our December meeting was held at Mac’s Café in Butler. Cheryl, Ginnie, Jody, Lori, Sharon, and I convened for breakfast along with Cheryl’s friend Nadine and my sister Theresa and brother-in-law Bob. After dining and our discussion of Crazy Rich Asians, we embarked on our annual Pittsburgh Symphony Christmas Home Tour. As always, it was a day filled with inspiration combined with friendship. Our time spent oohing and ahhing over the beauty and creativity of the homes is, for me, an early Christmas “gift.” It is a puzzle piece I eagerly anticipate every holiday season!

Looking forward to our next book, we will step away from the privileged lives of the very rich and enter into the world of the working class. Translated from German into English, The Glass Blower by Petra Durst-Benning is a historically researched book. Again, our story is pieced together by the lives of 3 sisters, “the wise.” Following the passing of their father, they find themselves struggling to survive in a man’s world. We will find inspiration in these strong women as their motivation and ingenuity proves their equality among the chauvinistic men of their time. The Glass Blower also includes a touching love story in addition to the credible account of the culture and history of Germany. Join us on Monday, January 19, at Natilie’s Pizzeria in Butler at 6 PM to discuss the plot of this promising novel. 

Thank you all for a great year of book discussions. The titles we enjoyed were diverse: entertaining, educational, spiritual, biographical, historical, and humorous. I’ve included the updated history of our book club’s titles so that you can reminisce over this year’s reading and books of yore.

Happy Holidays,

Tammy

August and September 2014 Book Club "Strength in What Remains" and "The Obituary Writer"

Hi Everyone,

What a glorious autumn season we are having here in Western Pennsylvania! If you are struggling to find the motivation to curl up and read a book in the spare moments when the outdoors seems a much more desirable choice, join the club! With the few hours I have in the evenings after work, I want to walk around my sanctuary and nature refuge, the paths at BC3. On my week ends, I want to ride a bike trail and take in the scent of cidery scented apple trees and fresh cut hay or find a fall festival to fill up on kettle corn and taste-test sweet homemade jams or local honey. I have to be part of this wonderful season with every fiber of my being.  I can’t help it; I’m a wandering gypsy at heart. Also, my dosha is vatta and vattas are the earth sign air and need to be in constant motion. So don’t ever feel bad if you find yourself restless and more inclined to be a part of the change that is happening all around you. Take your nose out of the book and experience each day before winter has us in its grips!

The September book club met at Natilie’s Pizzeria to discuss Strength in What Remains by Tracy Kidder. I, as you can gather, was not prepared to discuss this book. This minor detail did not prevent me; however, from attending our meeting and enjoying the conversation and the wonderful friendships we have developed over the last 10 years. It really was a poignant discussion as others in attendance, I’m sure, would agree: Barb K., Becky, Cheryl, Ginnie, Lori, and Mandy. 

The subject of Pulitzer Prize winning author Tracy Kidder’s biography “Deo” Niyizonkiza is a saint for our times, a native born African who endured the civil war and genocides of his homeland before finding his way to America and overcoming homelessness and bigotry. Those who are honored to know, work, and call Deo their friend, understand first-hand the true spirit of this man, while those of us that have only read about him in Kidder’s book are also affected by his amazing story and journey.

At September’s book club, we were lucky to have a Face Time interview with Cheryl’s sister Sharon who is a personal friend of Deo’s. She enlightened us on Deo’s high energy personality and his unstoppable mission toestablish an entirely community-driven health care organization called Village Health Works in Burundi. Sharon has visited this health community in Africa and volunteered at the center. She has seen first-hand Deo’s passionate spirit, and she believes that he will one day win a Nobel Peace Prize for his commitment to humanitarian labors. It was clear in talking with Sharon that her time in Burundi was life-changing, the experience is still fresh in her heart. Her voice was shaken and her eyes welled as she explained the needs of the people in this region of Africa. She spoke of Deo with deep admiration and respect, sharing how his laughter is infectious, just as necessary to the healing of his patients as the treatments he offers at the center. As Sharon talked, I couldn’t help but hear the words from the Bible’s first book of John 1:14, “…and He dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.” I’m sure Sharon would affirm that Deo is living out his life in such a way that the spirit of God is shining and working through him.

The Obituary Writer by Ann Hood was our August title. For our last summer meeting, we chose to dine outdoors and so selected the Saxonburg Hotel. Although it was a very sultry evening, we enjoyed our discussion with seating on a prime corner of the restaurant’s patio overlooking the cozy main street of the town. Lori, Becky, Mandy, Barb K. and I were in attendance. We all agreed that the book was a winner as we recounted our favorite parts and analyzed the main characters Claire, a disillusioned housewife, and Vivien, the obituary writer. 

Weaving back and forth between two time settings, the author spiced up the book’s imagery with allusions to the pop culture icons and beliefs of each period. Claire, trying to conform to the lifestyle of a 1960’s housewife after jet-setting as an airline stewardess, falls prey to the propaganda of her day. Encouraged by women’s magazines the likes of Good Housekeeping and Better Homes and Gardens to cater to their husbands, Claire rises to her duty and attempts to be the perfect wife. 

However, Claire becomes ensnared in a tedium of meaningless luncheons, dinner parties, PTA meetings, and volunteerism. She vicariously finds an escape from her grim prospects as a woman of her time through her obsession with John F. Kennedy’s election and his inauguration, especially focusing on his beautiful wife Jackie and their adorable children, the perfect American family. Likewise, Claire’s more insidious distraction from her world is through an extramarital affair. Her involvement with a married man is exposed when her husband arrives home from work and discovers Claire and her lover having sex in their bed!

Claire’s trapped existence may have rooted from her childhood. Claire’s mother imparted her beliefs about marriage as a minister would impart a sermon.  After reading aloud the beginning of chapter 6, “What Her (Claire’s) Mother Taught Her” we laughed out loud,and to our surprise, a random group of people sitting at the table next to us laughed, too.It was a litany of all the things Claire’s mother believed a wife needs to know: 

·        * Moisturize daily and never go to bed with your makeup on; if you put Vaseline on your hands and a pair of white cotton gloves over them your hands will always be soft; a man likes soft hands.

·        * Always get up before your husband, so you can do your own morning routine in private. Make yourself look pretty and have is breakfast ready when he wakes up.

·        Keep up on current events; agree with your husband’s opinion, even if you think he’s a horse’s ass for believing that.

·        * Buy fresh lard and use it in fried chicken, pie crusts, and 7-minute frosting; the key to a perfect dinner is to serve meat with a starch and a vegetable and to always have candlelight.

·        * Know how to sew a hem, darn a sock, replace a button – these skills make you indispensable.

·        * Never go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink or cigarette butts in the ashtray.

·        Never refuse your husband’s sexual desires.

·        * Get your hair done every week.

·        * When asked to bring something to a dinner party, bring it on a plate that you can leave as a gift.

·      * Always let the man drive.

·        * Men take out the trash and mow the lawn.

·        * Always wait for the man to open a door for you and light your cigarette.

·        * A woman needs to know how to swim, skate, and ride a bike.

·        * Women never swear in front of men.

·        * Honey goes out the window when there is no money.

·        * A woman knows how to live on a budget, to stretch a dollar, and to cook hamburger meat 6 different ways.

After I finished reading, an elderly gentlemen at the table wanted to know where his wife could buy the book, expressing that she could do with picking up a few tips!

The time period for Vivian, the obituary writer, begins decades earlier than Claire’s.It commences in San Francisco during the early 1900’s, at the time of the disastrous earthquake. Vivian, also in the clutches of a romantic affair, loses the love of her life, a married man, during the disaster. She spends many years believing he survived, possibly wandering about in a state of amnesia. While she waits hoping for his return, she writes obituaries. In the end, she admits it was a means of comforting herself as well as her grieving clients. 

Vivian and Claire’s life surprisingly merge together; Claire’s life mirrors Vivian’s. The older woman sees herself in the other, her squandered years. Vivian’s advice to Claire, “Don’t waste your one beautiful life.”  Vivian had learned “what matters is life itself, not the dates, the degrees”… the cars, the outfits, the jewelry, the casseroles, the Waldorf salads, the pie crusts or the Cheez Wiz. We are left to wonder how Claire will assimilate Vivian’s counsel. Hood compels us to create our own ending. 

I hope to see you all tonight at 6 PM, Wednesday, October 15, at Natilie’s Pizzeria for our discussion of the novel War Brides by Helen Bryan. This one was definitely a page turner and worth the late night reading marathons. I’ve come to love the characters as my friends and don’t want to see our relationship end, so I’m holding out for our final meeting, the conclusion, as an after school treat!

Yours in reading,

Tammy

June and July 2014 Book Clubs "Traveling with Pomegranates" and "The Mill River Recluse"

The Madonna of the Pomegranates

Hi Everyone,

As the summer flies by into the dog days of August, I find myself running to catch up with it, and as usual, here I am once again playing catch up with writing our book club news. Our June and July reads are the topic of this letter: Traveling with Pomegranates by Sue Monk Kidd and The Mill River Recluse a first novel by Darcie Chan. 

In attendance at June’s outdoor meeting at the Field House in Cabot were Barb K., Becky, Cheryl, Ginnie, Jody, Lori, and myself. The response to our beloved author Sue Monk Kidd’s book Traveling with Pomegranates did not manifest as I had expected. Given that our club fully embraced three of Kidd’s later novels (The Mermaid Chair, The Secret Life of Bees, and more recently, her brilliant work The Invention of Wings), it should have been safe to say that Traveling with Pomegranates would have been a winner. Wrong. It was one of the least liked books of the year!

A memoir, Traveling with Pomegranates was written before Kidd ventured into the genre of fictional novels. In this book, she and her daughter Ann write alternating chapters exploring their emotions during pivotal periods in each of their lives. Sue is struggling with aging, her spirituality, and a changing relationship with her daughter while Ann is coping with adulthood: choosing a career, overcoming personality limitations, and of course romance. Although at different stages of life, the two women share connections within them and around them. Looping these connections together through their travels and writing was for me a fascinating journey. 

However, the book club did not collectively agree with my affinity for the book.  Strange as it was, this book created one of the most capricious responses I’ve ever encountered at a meeting. “She needs to get over herself,” was the quote I most clearly recall in reaction to Kidd and her “self-absorbed” ramblings. “Ann is no better,” was another retort, “She needs to grow up!” On and on the critiques continued, and as individual club members took a turn at holding the mirror directly in the face of each author, I began to see their point. The pettiness of the authors’ mundane concerns tarnished my earlier opinions of the book.

It is not to say that I disliked Traveling with Pomegranates after hearing their judgments. While reading it, I was enrapt with the journey to foreign lands where a mother and daughter find their way back to one another, I saw my beloved Virgin Mary at the center of their reunion, and I saw their writing as the glue bonding their love in a way that can never be vocalized.  Although Ann and Sue’s struggles seem minimal to some of us, they were still struggles. Many of us battle the small struggles in life hard in preparation for the bigger heartaches, like we need practice in toughening up. In a way, it reminds me of a poignant poem one of my friends posted on Facebook recently by Edward Hirsch written in his grief over the loss of his son, here are the beginning verses:

I did not know the work of mourning
Is like carrying a bag of cement
Up a mountain at night

The mountaintop is not in sight
Because there is no mountaintop
Poor Sisyphus grief

For the most part, we are weak creatures and if we are to prepare for carrying a bag of cement up a mountain that has no end in sight, then we are going to need a lot of weightlifting practice. Struggling with menopause, romance, spirituality, career paths are light bags of feathers in comparison to Hirsch’s load, although sometimes with clouded peaks, they are still worth noting, sharing, and learning from for the day when true “grief” appears, “Poor Sisyphus grief” (in Greek mythology, a king who was condemned for eternity to roll a boulder up a hill only to have it roll back down) and it will.

And so we come to poor Mary, the main character in Darcie Chan’s novel The Mill River Recluse, she carried her bag of cement for a lifetime and without ever leaving her home. She chose giving in to her fears and, but for a few instances, remaining inside the walls of her mansion in Mill River, Vermont, until her death. This book was one of our so-called “easy reads.” By providing us with a bird’s eye view of the characters living in the small town of Mill River, Chan was able to tap into our innate tendencies to hear and share gossip. Who does not have a collection of stories involving people in their hometowns much like Mary and the other Mill River citizens? Let’s take Chicora for example.

Like Mary, the Litzinger sisters were an enigma. Everyone walked ever so slowly when they passed by their Munster like Victorian home in town hoping to catch a glimpse of the odd pair, but rarely did they leave their asylum behind the rusted iron gates. Oh, at Halloween you were lucky to catch them before lights out and have a knobby hand reach from behind a creaking door drop a homemade popcorn ball or an apple into your treat bag. Other than that we created our own stories about them disregarding the evidence to the contrary once the Ferguson’s bought the home and dispelled myths such as money hidden in the walls and bodies buried in the basement.

The character “crazy” Daisy was not unlike my memories of tales of Sarah Riley who once lived on the outskirts of Chicora down a darkly wooded lane. I recall pilfering through the remnants of her cabin which had burned to the ground like Daisy’s mobile home. There I discovered assorted colors of small glass bottles of which I envisioned Sarah as did Daisy concocting her own herbal remedies from the wildflowers growing nearby. 

My favorite character is Father O’Brien. He is Chicora’s own Father Biller. Like Father O’Brien who took care of Mary, Father Biller took care of his mother. Together they resided in the parish house next door to the Catholic Church. The house, another Victorian relic akin to the Litzinger estate, no longer remains in the town as it was later demolished after Mrs. Biller passed away in preference for a modern updated parochial center. 

Like the home, however, Mrs. Biller was a living ghost. As children we loved to accompany my mother on her infrequent visits seeking council from Father. It was always with the hope that we would be greeted by the eccentric Mrs. Biller. She would answer the door in her very polite and genteel manner. Wisps of fine gray hair lose from the antique combs holding back a finely rolled French knot at the back of her head revealed a shriveled but kind old face. Small in stature and thin as a rail, she always wore a dark dress defining a waistline no bigger than a saucer. It was constructed of a material I just wanted to touch only to find it was a fabric nothing like the dresses sold in stores where we shopped in downtown Butler. A delicate ivory brooch at the base of her throat was an alluring embellishment for a child’s eyes. Yet, her shoes were the main attraction of her outdated clothing ensemble. They didn’t have laces! To this day, she is the only woman I have ever known to wear button top shoes. Black leather and creased from age, they inhabited her tiny doll like feet. 

Father Biller protected this antiquated mother in the privacy of their home as Father O'Brian protected Mary in the privacy of her home. I never saw Mrs. Biller at the grocery store, the drugstore, Mellon Bank, and certainly not the liquor store or beer distributor, the places my family frequented. In fact, I don’t ever remember seeing Mrs. Biller at Mass; I only saw her on the rare occasions I was blessed to enter the main hall of the parish house, and always under the coddling eye of her son.

So, character for character, we can all claim a Mill River resident as our own. Our discussion for Chan’s novel was lively as we found the reader’s guide in the back of the book to be beneficial, eliciting interesting and thoughtful responses. Including myself, Becky, Cheryl, Ginnie, Lori, and Mandy, were in attendance at the July meeting held at Mama Rosa’s Restaurant in Butler.

Our August title The Obituary Writer by Ann Hood has me looking forward to the quiet moments of bedtime reading. I can’t wait to snuggle under the covers and steal a few chapters each night. For those of you that enjoy racy characters and plotlines, this is a step away from our usual themes usually with conservative moral messages. I look forward to our meeting for this title at 6 PM on August 19. Since most of you were looking forward to a trip to the Narcissus Winery in July and we changed our plans due to inclement weather, let’s meet at my house and carpool to this destination for our August book club. Ginnie, bring your money for wine!

Your sister in wisdom,

Tammy