The Beggar Maid

I’m so confused after finally finishing The Beggar Maid by Alice Munro. I thought this book would move along at a good pace and be a quick read, but instead it felt like the main character Rose was dragging me through quicksand with her. 

Maybe the technique of stringing together short stories into a novel didn’t work for me, or maybe I just didn’t connect with Rose on a spiritual level. Whatever, Munro had been on my wish list for a while, and now I can cross her off. She is a prolific writer, and this book won a Nobel Prize so there’s something to be said about that. One reviewer on Goodreads describes her work best as “good old fashioned writing” likening it to a hearty serving of meat and potatoes. Munro certainly can turn a phrase. The following image stood out to me, although I would have written “big wooden spoon.”

“The second morning Rose got up and found that a gigantic stirring-up had occurred in the kitchen, as if someone had wielded a big shaky spoon.”

Here are two more examples that are relatable to me:

“We come from unions which don’t have in them anything like what we think we deserve.”

Yes, we do!

And, finally this is as good a description of social anxiety as any.

“There was nothing shameful about any of this, but sometimes Rose was deeply, accountably ashamed. She did not let her confusion show. When she talked in public, she was frank and charming; she had a puzzled, diffident way of leading into her anecdotes, as if she were just now remembering, had not told them a hundred times already. Back in her hotel room, she often shivered and moaned, as if she were having an attack of fever.”

Looking back at the sections I highlighted convinced me to change my rating from 3 to 4 stars. I can’t resist adding one more slyly accurate observation from Rose’s childhood.

“It was sour. Sour chocolate milk. Rose kept taking tiny sips, unwilling to admit that something so much desired could fail her.”

Like my mother used to say, “Get used to it. Life isn’t a bowl of cherries.”

Small Things Like These

I’ve been exploring my Irish roots through some recent writing workshops, so it’s perfect timing for Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan to become available on CLAMS.

Keegan’s stories always make me think, which is the whole purpose for immersing oneself in a book. I learn a great many Irish/British expressions along the way, too. The real draw for me, however, are Keegan’s thoughtful, realistic characters. I despise reading about contrived, stereotypical people.

This time, I had great empathy for the main character, Bill Furlong, the hardworking, steadfast owner of a heating fuel delivery company. Bill, his wife Eileen and their five daughters are salt-of-the-earth, faithful members of an Irish community sometime in the 1980s. Bill is a thoughtful man who often reflects on his family’s circumstances, recognizing and appreciating the fruits of his solid, working class lifestyle. His work puts him in contact with all manner of people, and he is especially mindful of those not doing as well as he.

Keegan offers insight into Bill’s perspective with her tight, honest prose. Who among us cannot relate to this quick bit?

“When he reached the yard gate and found the padlock seized with frost, he felt the strain of being alive and wished he had stayed in bed…”

And, here one of my favorite sentiments is echoed.

“Always, Christmas brought out the best and the worst in people.”

A shocking discovery one day causes Bill to dig deeper into his own consciousness. As he does, he contemplates his wife’s simple philosophy, “If you want to get on in life, there’s things you have to ignore, so you can keep on.” I can relate to that myself. The world is full of horrific news, but to become overwhelmed by it, can lead to hopelessness and inaction. 

The soft-hearted Bill, however, can’t shake off the weight of what he has witnessed. His inner conflict brings him head to head with the Catholic Church and leads him to this revelation, “was there any point in being alive without helping one another?”

I’ll conclude with this quote that pretty much sums it all up.

“People could be good, Furlong reminded himself, as he drove back to town; it was a matter of learning how to manage and balance the give-and-take in a way that let you get on with others as well as your own.”

Keegan’s writing invites us to ponder our own inner angst as well as how it relates to our connectivity to humanity. That certainly makes for a worthwhile read.

Edited to add my thoughts after watching the movie on Hulu. I would not have chosen the Oppenheimer actor to play Bill Furlong, but I was pleasantly surprised to see a different, less intense, softer side of Cillian Murphy. At the close of the movie this statement fills the screen. “Dedicated to the more than 56,000 young women who were sent to Magdalene institutions for “penance and rehabilitation” between 1922 and 1998. And the children who were taken from them.” I was unfamiliar with the legacy of the Magdalene Laundries but not surprised to research the subject and learn a little about the abuse that took place. This quote from the Mother Superior’s sermon was particularly relevant, especially when questioning how these atrocities happen. “The love of the Lord is everlasting upon those who fear Him. His justice reaches out to the children’s children when they keep His Covenant in truth.”

Three Days In June

 

Three Days in June by Ann Tyler felt like I was reading something authored by the fictional character Lucy Barton in an Elizabeth Strout novel. The entire book read like a play-by-play description of the most mundane, ordinary activities of the main character. Luckily, I identified with Gail Baines, a socially awkward teacher in her 60s who has just been let go from her job as assistant headmistress at a swanky private school. 

Granted, a few conflicts unfold to keep things moving along in this quick read, and that’s what kept me going. However, drab dialogue like the following didn’t make it easy. 

I said, “Oh.” I said, “I hadn’t considered that.”

The story takes place in the Baltimore area during the three days surrounding the wedding of Gail’s only daughter, Debbie. The book opens with the bad news being delivered to Gail by her boss and supposed friend Marilee. The reason given is her lack of people skills which Gail appears not to dispute.

Along the way, the arrival of Gail’s ex-husband with a kitten complicates the situation. In flashbacks, the demise of their marriage as well as Gail’s relationship with her own mother are revisited. A small hiccup between bride and groom as well as the antics of the overbearing in-laws also factor into the plot and nudge it along.

Tyler is the author of many books including The Accidental Tourist which I read but can’t recall anything about it. A Spool of Blue thread found its way onto my Want To Read list a while ago, but I think I’ll give myself space before I try another Tyler novel.

I did, however, download one of her short stories, Teenage Wasteland, because it was free on Kindle. I will update if I ever finish reading that.

Crash Book

 

 

Crash Book is the second of my former therapist Marlene Denessen’s books that I was delighted to discover online and read. My curiosity was peaked by the title and cover image depicting a closeup of a deer head. Turns out she began a healing journey using meditation after being seriously injured in a car accident involving a deer on Route 195 in Massachusetts.

Published in 2022, this book is a pretty handy resource filled with practical advice for developing a meditation practice. It contains anecdotes that humanize the experience for those of us just beginning. Marlene’s voice is straightforward, nonjudgmental, and rings with clarity. Her salt-of-the-Earth guidance is easy to understand and incorporates background information about mindfulness and wellbeing. 

For example, here is a quote from Marc Hiles of the Iona Center that is so relatable. “We are overdosed on data and underfed on the mysterious. Our brains inflate while our souls wither.” I need to be especially cognizant of not drowning my brain while my soul remains thirsty. This concept also brings to mind the word “numinous” that I learned from Susan Cain, the author of Quiet. Mysterious, spiritual, enchanting, mystical, bewitching.

I identified with Marlene’s reference to what she calls the “passing show” or the daily distractions that inevitably compete for our attention during meditation. She matter of factly counsels us to recognize the passing show, pay it no mind, and redirect our focus on the breath and the process of clearing our minds. 

In Crash Book, Marlene also mentions the Buddhist reference to “monkey mind” of which I am most definitely afflicted!

The Measure / The Serviceberry

This book became available on May 5, and like a moth to a flame, I clicked borrow. The Measure by Nikki Erlick is probably going to scare the shit out of me, but I can’t resist. Elaine talked about it a couple years ago and I was intrigued, but I was still working and didn’t have the time to read as freely as I do now. 

Earlier this year, I read Here One Moment, thinking it was the book Elaine had recommended. The premise of people knowing when they will die is similar but handled in very different ways. My impression of that book is documented on this blog. 

Of course all the books I have on hold are ready at the same time, and last night I began reading The Serviceberry by Robin Wall Kimmerer, author of the more well known Braiding Sweetgrass. Probably, I will become either totally frustrated or wholly enlivened trying to read these two books at the same time. Let’s see how this escapade plays out.

I’m still slogging away on The Measure but last night (5/21/25) I finished The Serviceberry. The book’s subtitle says it all really: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World. It’s appropriate that I finished reading this tiny book during a time when I’m losing patience with the clown in charge of our country and the posse of idiots he has surrounded himself with as they wreak havoc on the environment and the common good.

Turns out my dual reading experiment worked out nicely as I finished The Measure today (5/22/25). The books, despite being very different, were oddly complimentary. Both brought in elements of current events and the politics of humanity. The Serviceberry drives home the message of a gift economy and conservation of natural resources. 

The Measure imagines what happens socially and politically in a world where one day every adult receives a box with a string in it. The length of the string correlates to each person’s lifespan. The divisiveness between the long-stringers and the short-stringers is featured as the book shares the perspectives of several different characters. I found the flip-flopping between viewpoints distracting, the lives of the characters uninteresting, and the message about diversity heavy-handed. 

The book did not scare the shit out of me as much as it made me yawn. Especially lines like this, very overtly comparing a politician to Trump. “Your uncle may be a son of a bitch, but at least he’s tough. He could actually get shit done. Plus, he’s brutally honest. You gotta respect that.” And, am I the only one who thinks the following is corny? 

#StrungTogether—A handful of journalists and politicians had already deemed it a “movement.”

All Fours

 

I really need to become more discerning in my choices of reading material. Information overload and overwhelm is real, especially these days when I let myself ponder how few years I realistically have left. I know that sounds dark, but I’m really just being realistic. I probably shouldn’t have wasted my precious time reading All Fours by Miranda July, but once I made it halfway, I was committed to completion.

I also probably should’ve recognized the sexual connotation of the title too, but again, no, I missed that clue that the book would lurch into full-blown soft-porn with the main character awkwardly exploring her sexuality and questioning her life choices. 

In case you’re thick like me, toward the end of the book you’ll be treated to this pearl of wisdom, “Everyone thinks doggy style is so vulnerable…but it’s actually the most stable position. Like a table. It’s hard to be knocked down when you’re on all fours.” So says the unnamed protagonist’s long-suffering artist friend when describing her sculpture of a green marble, headless woman on her hands and knees! And by long-suffering, I’m referencing her putting up with her annoyingly, self-indulgent 45 year old friend throughout the book.

I wish I could recall how this book came to be on the long list of selections I wait patiently for on Libby. Could have been the Titcomb’s newsletter or New York Times bestseller lists. If I could remember, I’d avoid future recommendations from that source.

It’s never good when you can’t wait to finish reading a book, hoping all along a tornado comes along and wipes out all the characters or they all die in a house fire. No such luck. I finally made it to the end and was left scratching my head. Somehow the irritating main character was still going, like a demented Energizer bunny, searching and grasping at life in her aggravating, self-aggrandizing way.

Shark Heart

Shark Heart: A Love Story by Emily Habeck is a weird-ass book raved about by the woman leading the weird-ass poetry workshop I took at the Sandwich Library in February. I actually participated in three free workshops offered, and the poetry was my least favorite for many reasons. Unforgivably, the teacher was totally unprepared. And yet I did heed this book recommendation from her.

As so often happens with weird-ass books I read, I kind of like it, but it needs some tweaking/editing. It is a quick and easy read so that’s nice.  I originally rated it harshly, 3-stars on Goodreads, but after reviewing my highlights and writing this summary, I would change it to 4-stars.

The idea is a good one, creative and original, but the orchestration of all the pieces misses the mark for me. The structural elements, choppy chapters, and awkward transitions between viewpoints distracted me from the profound declarations, such as this one.

“Joy and grief are human birthrights, but mostly, being alive is everything in between.”

And this one.

“Truth and Love were complicated concepts on their own, and patching the two words together created a significant tangle Lewis could not unwind.”

The setting is an otherwise realistic world where it appears normal for some humans to contract an ailment that causes them to transform into animals. The main character named Wren, who is not a bird but a woman, reflects on how her life has been impacted by these transformations. The story begins as her husband is diagnosed with a Carcharodon carcharias mutation. Thus, begins the couple's misadventures as he gradually transitions into a great white shark. While the physical changes and adaptations he endures are shocking, his psychological journey proves to be the most unsettling. 

The characters and even their animal counterparts, impart a great deal of wisdom as they are forced to reckon with their unusual circumstances in this book. Their interactions are all a bit poetic and metaphoric. Maybe in its own weird-ass way reading this helped me connect to my own inner love of figurative language.

Maybe life has no ceiling, no floors, no walls, and we’re free-falling from the moment we’re born, lying to each other, agreeing to make invented ideas important, to numb ourselves from the secret.” “What’s the secret?” “Maybe what happens between birth and death isn’t as precious as we think.”