"The Mermaid Chair": Yet Another Book Review

OK, I really don't have time to devote to books other than my academic stuff right now, but I finished this literally standing up in the kitchen, as S4J was waiting on me to get into the car so we could leave for Chicas last week. This book doesn't tend to get good press, and I think it definitely deserves a shout-out.

First of all, I've noticed that, at least for this reader, SMK books start off slowly and I tend to not care about the characters or the groundwork she's laying until a little way into the book. For some of you that may sound harsh. What I'm trying to convey is that, if you're looking for something that starts off as a cliffhanger and makes you strap on your parachute so you can BASE jump into a plot already in progress, then SMK novels are not for you. While I like that to some extent, I can also appreciate the way some writers painstakingly lay groundwork before they really kick off the conflict of the story. Just don't take all day doing it!

At any rate, I felt like the plot was going to be predictable, which it was to a large extent. It was like one of the characters from "Waiting to Exhale" walked into "The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood." Being in my early 30s and widowed, I did not have a personal way to relate to a woman 20 years my senior going through a mid-life crisis and careening toward self-destruction. I was elated, however, to find that one of the male characters fit closer with me, which I find oddly pleasing. This guy was a monk who thrust himself into the realm of godliness after losing his wife and unborn child in a tragic car accident. Really, to watch how he relates to others, the internal struggle he has, the aching in his heart that consumes every mitochondrion of every cell of his being struck a chord with me, and the terrifying reality of wanting, needing to love again and the risks that come along with that. Also, the main character's father died tragically when she was nine years old, and the broken journey she ends up taking in her life and the harsh reality of secrets kept are really key to this story.

I feel like I've almost gone and said too much about this book. I hope I haven't given any key information away! The ending of this book is so emotionally gripping that I was affected for days after having read it. In fact, when I first read it, I was waiting on Bud at the dentist's office and was crying so hard I was dripping tears on the pages! I had to lean my head back so I could even see the words! (For those of you who need warning, the bomb drops in Chapter 33.) As I was reading and following along all throughout the book, I was curious as to how SMK was going to tie all this up with a bow and come to a logical ending. The ending she came up with surprised me, as there were few obvious clues sprinkled about. You feel as clueless about what is going on as the main character, and the reality of it hit me so hard I had to read the chapter three times for it to really sink in. It reminds me of how, when you receive some kind of bad news, your brain goes into some sort of slow motion or shock. People have to repeat even simple things for you because your mind is just so blown by what you have heard. It was REALLY that good!

SMK doesn't give this book a Disney ending, which I love. I mean, I'd love to see all the problems resolved and have that feeling of, "Everyone's gonna be OK after all," but that is simply not true to life. Her ending was realistic and therefore satisfying.

One of the things SMK does better than anyone except Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings (Stephen King goes overboard in this department and "stirs me to wrath," haha...) is her unheard-of-amazing use of imagery. I felt like I could smell the primordial ooze of the tidal estuaries and streams she describes, partly because I have experienced that in some fashion, but also because she captures all five senses in words so well. The feeling of humidity at the beach, the way fog sets into your bones in the middle of the night, the electrifying sensation of a lover's kiss on bare, expectant skin all comes through with intensity in this book, just as she did in "The Secret Life of Bees."

Bottom line: Give this book a chance -- it will devastate you by the raw emotion you will feel, and it will surprise you, too, as to which character(s) you relate the most. It's honest, realistic, and well worth the time you will invest in it. BTW, it's been made into a movie. I have mixed feelings about watching it, however. I have an outrageously overactive imagination; I just cannot imagine Hollywood replicating what was going on in my mind. The same goes with SLoB, which is coming out this week. DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND READ THE BOOK FIRST!!! You won't be sorry you did, I promise.

OK, now back to the books...

This-N-That

Whew! It's been a whirlwind week, and I've gotten so far behind on posting that the hard drive in my brain is maxed out. I will attempt to recap:


As of last week, I have officially become a minion of the PTA at Li'l G's school. Honestly, I have been skeptical of PTAs because I am not very fond of cliques and anything that reminds me of my terrible days as an adolescent. However, this group of ladies seems like hard workers who truly want to be involved at the school to help support teachers and kids. I helped set up for the Book Fair and will work for a few hours there later this week. I may have an inner librarian working somewhere in the untold folds of my personality. At any rate, I'm not able to work things in the evenings due to my family structure, and this is one of the best ways to volunteer during the daytime. That, and I'm always on the lookout for new friends. The way I see it, the more connections we can make with other people the better. You never know when you might meet that one friend who becomes a gem you treasure for a lifetime.


The main focus of the last week or so has definitely been the fundraiser and praise band concert that went down at my church last night. We've been toiling away at practices. I know everyone on the team has got to be ready for a little space away from me as I struggled to get some of my fine tuning down. But the bottomline is that this is an unusually grace-filled group of people that I'm so blessed to have in my life. The fundraiser seems to have been a success, and we all left the concert feeling like we had put forth our best effort.


I was trying to explain to someone recently what it is like to play with a group of people. It's one thing to play an instrument or sing and have to be in front of a group of people, but when you do this in the context of praise and worship, it's a whole different enchilada. What we do as a praise band is meant for the direct benefit of the congregation and as our personal sacrifices of praise to the Lord. To me, I feel like the luckiest person in the room because of my vantage point. Not only am I doing something that I love and that I feel that God has blessed me to be able to share this passion with others, but the blessing I receive when I observe others listening to the music and interacting with it, it is something so sacred that I just cannot think of another way to experience it. All I can say is "wow."


Amidst all this fracas, R. came to visit for the weekend and I got one of my papers finished. Even Li'l G had homework that miraculously got done. All this done with a sinus headache all.weekend.long.


I need a weekend to recover from my weekend.


And now for the bad news: I have made an executive decision to cut something from my calendar. **Insert sound of needle scratching across vinyl record in the distance!!** What, GGG?!? You actually took something OFF your calendar? Honey, check the news -- I think Jesus is coming again...!


Yes, I have decided to take a committment away from myself so that I don't kill myself with too many items on the personal agenda. I am still cycling and even showing up to spinning if there's bad weather, but I do not have the time necessary to be properly trained for the bike race in October. It was a hard call to make, but it was the right choice. I will still train to enter a race, but I will put it off until the spring. I've got to properly prioritize my time these days, and quite frankly, it was taking up valuable space on the front burner. I will, however, continue to post for accountability. So none of you are off the hook, either!!! Thought you were off the hook... ;)


On a more philosophical note, I'm sensing change these days. I don't know what form to expect it in, but I have this unsettled feeling that there is going to be a major shift in my life over the next few months. This could be for several reasons.


1) Having been married to the military, I'm used to moving every 24 months or so. I've been living here in my new home, essentially my new life, for 25 months. Just sheer force of habit might lead me to expect change, right? Maybe...


2) I'm entering the last of four semesters of lay ministry training. I distinctly remember thinking after T. died that I wanted to enter into some kind of ministry, counseling, pastoring, worship leader/music ministry, etc. My pastor-at-the-time and friend advised me of this program offered through my denomination that might be interesting and even serve as part of the discerning process for me to consider what my calling might be or what the next steps of my new life would look like. Now, as I am nearing the end of this incubation period, I think I'm somewhat closer to figuring that out but still have no clear answers. Perhaps it's anxiety related to feeling like I've reached the end of one path and wondering where the beginning lies to the next one.


I know for sure that I will sorely miss the fellowship I experience at these meetings. The other PLM candidates are such interesting people who truly desire to take a further step in their involvement in the life of the church and those they are serving/will serve. Having almost 25-30 likeminded individuals gathered in one place just makes me giddy with excitement and energy to take the world by storm. The professors are such interesting folks and are all so anointed and yet so different from one another that I feel like I could just hang on their every word. Obviously I enjoy these sessions and will miss them so much. I have no idea who or what God will bring along to fill this void in my life.


3) I'm eccentric, hormonal, compulsive and turning 32 next month. Can anyone say mid-life crisis?!? However true of the first part, I can't really say I think it's a mid-life crisis. And I'm actually quite fond of being in my thirties. I think it is when human beings hit their prime. I definitely feel like this is the prime of my life and want to capitalize that in every possible way, hence all the fitness craze and the continuing education stuff. But is that the source of this "hunch?"


4) Maybe my relationship is moving into a new phase. I can't really say that much has changed, and even if it had, I'm under strict orders not to mention "him" on the blog. This is request is painfully hard for me to honor. While I don't have any problem with keeping a private life private, I also know that there are other people out there in my shoes who are aching inside, wondering what has happened to them, if things will ever change, who they are, who they want to be with, etc. I feel called to share my life's experiences, and dating after the death of a spouse is an area of our society left largely unexplored. Most people think it's too taboo to discuss. Then again, most people associate the word "widow" with people who look like Sophia Petrillo. While I probably act like her, I can assure you that is the only thing we have in common.


At any rate, perhaps there is change in our future. Will this change be a step toward a closer bond, toward a mature love that could lead to a lifelong committment and a chance at having another baby? I would love that. Or, will it lead to us shaking hands and saying, "I love you, but not like that?" I certainly hope not. But there is just no way of knowing, is there? Despite my feelings about wanting to reach out to this neglected group of the population, I will respect his wishes on this matter. It's the least I can do.


There are probably lots of other reasons for this hunch. The changing of the seasons, my hormones, too much sinus pressure, the anniversary of T.'s birthday this week, the desire to see change, seeing my family transition from a house ruled by the needs of toddlers to those of kids old enough to unbuckle their booster seats. My God, El Roi, God Who Sees, knows what's in my heart. He hears my silent cries of, "What now?", "Why not?", "Why me?", "Why not me?", and many others that only the Holy Spirit can utter on my behalf. And let the record show, I know this all has to be chalked up to trusting God to meet my needs and leaving it in God's hands.

And on top of all this madness, S4J goes off and posts about certain trust and gets us all convicted and stuff. Pft. How rood.

So there you have it, dear readers. What happens next in the never-ending drama/saga that is the life and times of GGG & Co.??? Tune in tomorrow for the next installement of, "The Days of Surviving Wives!"

Unfinished Business

She's a real piece of work, huh? A little of this, a little of that, a whole bunch of unorthodox chunks of her personality, all manifesting themselves simultaneously. Somehow, all of these components come together to create her -- let's call her Marge for funsies. These idiosyncrosies may be hilarious, irritating, or even self-destructive, but wrapped up in her patchwork appearance they scream MARGE. In a senseless way, they make sense when you think of her.

What would your picture look like? I'm trying to envision mine these days, and I'll be honest, the picture I'm getting is like that on an old television with rabbit ears, trying to get clear reception of the Johnny Carson show during a summertime thunderstorm out at my grandparents house. You could always see the outline of a person, generally tell their gender, but the details were decidedly fuzzy, and if you were getting too much static, you couldn't even guess who they were by their voice. But if you held your tongue just right, for a flash you would get a clear picture. You would hustle back to your seat, only to have the picture fuzz up again the minute your hindquarters hit something solid. Back to the drawing board...

I sat down to type a blog today about nothing in particular. I've been uber-busy, getting things ready for a new school year, a new page in all our lives as Lil' G starts Kindergarten and Bud begins preschool for the first time. I've been plagued with guilt over not getting my academic work done (haven't even touched it), migraines that last for days on end and make me into what I've termed, "Dinosaur Mommy," mental exhaustion as I try to get things squared away for a wonga-sized garage sale this weekend, and the list just goes on and on. I've felt like I hit a mental dry spell, creatively speaking, after the 100th blog. To be honest, it was rather anti-climactic for me. I am now left with the feeling of, "Now what???" But as I searched for something with which to open this blog, I ran across this picture in an email and it intrigued me.

My middle name is Renee. For most of my days, I have not necessarily been too fond of the name and have given my mother endless grief about being caught up in the '70s for giving me this middle name. However, in recent years, I have embraced it because it sums me up in one word: reborn. I have learned that I am in a constant cycle of rebirth: there is some kind of beginning, toil and struggle, success or failure, and then the need to start it all back up again. I am one of those people who is never content just to be. Some people muse at the amount of energy I exude; others think, 'Better her than me.' Me, I see it as a mixed blessing of sorts. I love the fact that I am constantly learning and growing, but I am exhausted by the fact that I am constantly learning and growing. Continually being reborn, perpetually metamorphosizing from one stage to the next, takes energy and patience. Some days I have the energy, but rarely do I posses the patience.

I looked at Marge and in a strange way, she reminded me of myself, or perhaps she taught me something that I need to apply to my own wacky existence. She's obnoxious, sassy, independent, doing her own thing, sitting back and watching it all. She is feminine but not a prude, tart and tangy without leaving a bitter taste in the mouth. To the casual observer, she looks like a lunatic, but to the ones she calls friends and family, every thing in that picture is quintessential 'Marge.' It just wouldn't be her without [insert crazy anecdotal item here]. Life has made her the multi-faceted person she is. The choices she's made, the roads she's taken, the ones she's bypassed, have all added a color to her canvas. I look at my own life and see the vibrant colors of life experiences, the warm fabrics of comfort and love from growing up years, the silky feel of love, the bruises of heartache and despair.

What Marge is telling me, between blowing smoke rings and making Old Navy commercials, is to embrace it. My picture cannot and will not look like any other in human history, and I can either avert my eyes and focus on everyone else's picture in God's gallery, or I can face my own, warts and all. I need to see everything, every moment, every tear, every scrape, every kiss, every sticky hug, every temper tantrum, every mess, every disappointment, every shut door, every cracked window, every achievement and every failure, as beautiful. Personally, I would love some of my rebirth to at least slow down to a less-than-break-neck speed. If it did, would that really be me, though? I wonder. I know that, once I start accepting God's design in and for my life, I will have much more peace, and I will finally feel as comfortable in my own picture as I do in my favorite jeans (or better yet, yoga pants).

"13For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother's womb. 14I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well... 16Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them."

--Psalm 139:13-14, 16