Recent reading: A plethora of Poldark ;)

The last three books I read in 2016 were from Winston Graham's Poldark series. As I've written before, I first read the Poldark books and was a big fan of the original BBC/PBS television series, back in the 1970s. I began re-reading the series when a new television series based on the books began airing on PBS a couple of years ago.

The series began in 1780s England, with Ross Poldark returning to his native Cornwall from fighting in the American Revolution. He finds his father is dead, his estate is in ruins, and his sweetheart, Elizabeth Chynoweth, thinking him dead, is now engaged to his cousin, Francis. To the horror of local society, Ross takes in an abused miner's daughter named Demelza as a kitchen maid, falls in love with her and marries her. 

As the series continues, the French Revolution casts its shadow over England. The poor are getting increasingly poorer and more desperate, and the forces of industrialization and commercialization -- represented here by the upstart Warleggan family -- are challenging the dominance of the old order. 

Jeremy Poldark & Warleggan, the third and fourth Poldark novels, formed the basis of the BBC TV series season that just recently ended on PBS in North America. As with the previous novels, the storytelling is masterful. The characters and relationships are complex and wonderfully drawn, and you learn a lot about the history of the time and how people lived.

As "Jeremy Poldark" opens, Ross is facing trial for inciting the locals to loot and riot after a ship owned by the Warleggans runs aground in a storm, and Demelza is desperately maneuvering to save him. The trial, the recent death of his daughter Julia, a lingering attraction to Elizabeth place a strain on Ross's relationship with Demelza, just as she discovers she is pregnant again (with the title character). As a bereaved parent who saw many of our support group friends and clients go through subsequent pregnancies after loss, I was impresssed with the very realistic way parental grief is portrayed in this book. Like many parents, Ross & Demelza find themselves grieving the loss of Julia and approaching the prospect of having more children in very different ways, which drives a wedge between them. Grief is not a major plot point but, as it often does, it forms a backdrop and informs other events that follow. 

 In "Warleggan," cousins Ross and Francis embark on an ill-fated partnership to revive the family mine, Wheal Grace, and free themselves of the influence of their enemy, George Warleggan. When Ross's relationship with Elizabeth deepens, a furious Demelza retaliates by encouraging the attention of a handsome Scottish officer. The relationships between men & women and how easily misunderstandings and damage can occur is a recurring theme in this book.

The Black Moon, the fifth Poldark novel, takes its title from the black moon (lunar eclipse) that takes place as George Warleggan & Elizabeth's son, Valentine, is born. Great-Aunt Agatha Poldark, nearing her 100th birthday, pronounces it to be a bad omen -- something she reiterates with great relish to George later in the book.  There is a long interlude in France, where Ross risks everything to rescue his friend, Dr. Dwight Enys, from a French prison. And we are introduced to two of Demelza's brothers, Sam, a devout Methodist, and Drake, who forms an unlikely (and socially verboten) friendship with young Geoffrey Charles Poldark, son of Francis & Elizabeth -- and with his governess, Elizabeth's cousin, Morwenna Chynoweth -- adding to the existing tensions between the Poldark & Warleggan families.  

"The Black Moon" and part of the next book in the series (which I am currently re-reading), "The Four Swans," will be the basis of the next season of Poldark, which is now filming in Britain. Air dates TBA. Needless to say, I can't wait! 

These were books #22, #23 & #24 that I read in 2016, for a final total of 24 books read, meeting my Goodreads challenge. :) 

"Just Between You and Me" by Myles Goodwyn

Back in the 1970s and early 1980s, there were few homegrown bands that were bigger in Canada than April Wine.

(Strangely enough, although I saw many of the top Canadian bands & singers of the day -- Burton Cummings (several times), Trooper (ditto), Harlequin (used to play at our high school & university residence dances), Loverboy, Bryan Adams (dh saw him at a bar near the university we both attended, just before he hit the big time), Dan Hill, Max Webster (with Kim Mitchell), Streetheart, Prism, the Headpins, Downchild Blues Band, Powder Blues Band -- I never did see April Wine in concert.) 

You may not have heard of them in the States or elsewhere in the world (although they did enjoy some modest success, in certain markets south of the border as well as in Europe -- I had no idea that five April Wine songs/videos were played by MTV on its first day of existence) -- but the distinctive, instantly recognizable voice of lead singer Myles Goodwyn is part of the soundtrack of my growing up years. "Bad Side of the Moon" (written by Elton John & Bernie Taupin) was played endlessly at the (ice) skating rink when I was about 13; hearing "You Won't Dance With Me" takes me back to junior high dances, where I watched the boy(s) I had crushes on slow-dancing with someone else. (Oh, the angst!!)

Anyway -- for all my familiarity with April Wine's music, I didn't know much about the band itself.   So when I was at the bookstore a few weeks ago & saw Myles Goodwyn's new memoir, "Just Between You & Me" (which takes its title from the 1981 April Wine song of the same name -- which I slow-danced to at university parties -- take that, junior high boys!! lol), I couldn't resist snapping it up.

Born Miles Francis Goodwin in Woodstock, New Brunswick, Goodwyn grew up poor, mostly in Nova Scotia (that fact I did know about him). His mother died of brain cancer at a tragically young age when Myles was 11, and he remembers very little of his childhood prior to that point. Music and nature became his solace, and when he was a teenager, he started playing in bands. He, his neighbourhood friends, brothers David & Ritchie Henman, and their cousin Jim Henman, formed April Wine in 1969.

I especially enjoyed the early parts of the book describing Goodwyn's growing up years and his early days performing. I probably could have done without all the detailed descriptions of the comings and goings of the various April Wine band members through the years (14 over 40+ years) and the making of one album after another -- although those parts did serve to remind me of songs I had completely forgotten about (such as "Right Down on Top of Me," "Cum Hear the Band," and "If You See Kay" -- let that one sink in for a moment, lol). 

Unfortunately, April Wine's enormous success devolved into the all-too-common sad litany of bad management decisions, record company rip-offs, infighting among the group members, drugs, alcohol, ego and burnout, that has plagued so many talented bands over the years. (To quote another April Wine song, "Rock and Roll is a Vicious Game.") Along the way, Goodwyn has dealt with alcoholism (which nearly killed him in 2008) and diabetes, as well as two divorces and their effects on his three children. He speaks out for the first time about some of these things, including why the band first broke up in 1982, and his relationships (or lack thereof) with the other members. He has a reputation for being difficult, and accepts his own share of the blame for the problems he and the band encountered over the years -- but he also comes across here as a straight shooter determined to tell the truth as he sees it, combined with a sense of humour.

Now 68 and a grandfather (!), Goodwyn is still writing and performing music, both with April Wine (on a slightly reduced schedule) and his own band. "Life is good," he says, and I am glad. This has been a hard year for us baby boomers, music-wise, with the passing of so many of our youthful musical heroes (David Bowie, Glenn Frey, Paul Kantor, Prince...). I am grateful that so many of the ones who are still here are still performing and are now sharing their stories with us. Thank you, Myles Goodwyn, for being one of them. :)

If you're a Canadian of a certain vintage, this book will bring back some memories! 

This was book #21 that I've read so far in 2016.

*** *** ***

Naturally, ever since I picked this book up, I've had April Wine songs playing on a continuous loop in my head. ;)  It's hard for me to pick a favourite (there are so many great ones!), but these two (from their 1975 album "Stand Back," which I owned as a teenager) would be right up there. One is harder edged, the other more pop, and I love them both:  "Tonight is a Wonderful Time to Fall in Love" and "Oowatanite." 

"Inferno" by Dan Brown

In most cases, I like to read the book before I see the movie. (How about you?) I don't always succeed, but in this case, I did. I picked up a paperback copy of "Inferno" by Dan Brown last Monday, before the movie opened this weekend. At slightly more than 100 chapters, I figured if I could read 20 chapters a day, I could finish the book before we went to the movie on Sunday afternoon -- and I did. ;)

Brown's usual hero, Robert Langdon, Harvard professor of art history and symbology, wakes up in a hospital in Florence, Italy, with no memory of how he got there.  Before long, and he and his pretty young doctor, Sienna Brooks, are on the run, trying to solve a series of puzzles. Dante's Inferno is the key to finding and stopping a maniacal billionaire from unleashing destruction upon the world.

Having read previous Brown/Langdon adventures "The Da Vinci Code" and "Angels & Demons" (as well as seeing the movie versions), I knew what to expect, and I wasn't disappointed -- although the endless twist after twist after twist had me rolling my eyes & muttering "Seriously??!"  You don't need to have read any of Brown's previous books to understand or enjoy this one. They aren't great literature, but they're generally fun, and you learn a bit about history and art and religion (and, in this case, science) along the way. 

I don't want to give away too much of the plot but (mild spoiler alert!) there are several infertility angles that pop up in its pages.

This was book #20 that I've read so far in 2016.

*** *** ***

Having ploughed through the book, I was ready to see the movie this afternoon. There were some changes from the book -- it was Hollywood-ized in some respects, not all of them good, although the twists remain (with a few more added). (I won't go into details, so as not to spoil things for those of you who haven't read the book or seen the movie.) 

Still, I enjoyed it. (Dh hadn't read the book yet, and probably enjoyed it as much or more than I did.)  The thing I really like about the movie versions of Brown's books (besides the always-affable Tom Hanks as Langdon) is we get to see the actual places and the artworks that he writes about, instead of trying to imagine them. What's not to like about a trek around Florence, Venice & Istanbul, through secret passages & hallways lined with priceless paintings??

It won't win any Oscars, but it's a fun way to spend the afternoon -- with a big bag of popcorn in hand, of course. ;) Two thumbs up.

"Music in the Hills" by D.E. Stevenson

"Music in the Hills" is the latest book under discussion by my D.E. Stevenson Yahoo group, and a sequel to our previous selection, "Vittoria Cottage," featuring some of the same characters.

James, the son of "Vittoria Cottage"'s main protagonist, Caroline, arrives at Mureth, the Scottish border country farm owned & run by his mother's sister, Mamie, and her husband, Jock, with the intention of taking up farming as a career and learning the ropes from his uncle before he buys a place of his own. He's also nursing a broken heart:  in "Vittoria Cottage," we met Rhoda Ware, his childhood friend turned love interest, who is determined to pursue a career as an artist. This being early 1950s England, she turns down James's proposal, adamant that art and marriage (and most especially a family) do not mix. In Mureth, he meets Holly Douglas, the pretty niece of the local lord, as well as other new friends, including Daniel Reid, a newly hired shepherd who recently returned to the area where he grew up after years of travelling the world.

I loved this book for all the usual reasons I love Stevenson's work: the wonderful characters, the vivid descriptions, and the strong sense of morality, compassion and common sense. It's the literary equivalent of comfort food. 

But this book especially touched my heart for another reason: Mamie & Jock are childless (not by choice), and there are several passages where it's clear how this has affected their lives -- most especially in Chapter Three, where Mamie is telling James stories about her parents and sisters, and how her parents were lonely in their old age:

"It seemed rather bad luck to have had four daughters and not to have one left at home -- and none of their daughters was much good to them. Caroline never could leave Arnold -- he was so awfully selfish -- and Jean was in America and Harriet was simply wrapped up in her theatrical career."  

"But you were here, quite near them!"  

"Yes," agreed Mamie tepidly. "Yes, but they weren't -- they're weren't very..." She paused. She was busy trying to find the exact shade of brown for the sock she was darning. 

"They weren't very what?" asked James.  

"Very proud of me," said Mamie. "There was nothing to be proud of was there? They had nothing in common with Jock. I don't mean there was a feud, but they just weren't interested in Jock's kind of things, and of course I had no children."  

James was silent for a moment...

I got tears in my eyes reading this. While I know how much my parents wanted to be grandparents, and while I've felt a great deal of guilt about that, I have never felt they weren't proud of me. But I know this has been an issue for some of you, and I felt so badly for Mamie that her parents made her feel this way about herself.

What James doesn't know is that (provided he decides the farming life is what he wants) Jock and Mamie intend to make him their heir and bequeath Mureth to him when they are gone. Their love for their nephew is clear, and "Music in the Hills" reminds me (in several places) about the important, nurturing role that childless adults can play in the lives of the children and young people around them.

The other thing I like about "Music in the Hills" from a childless perspective is that, while it's clear both Jock & Mamie wanted children and feel their absence keenly, they also have a wonderful marriage and enjoy their life together at Mureth tremendously. In our introduction to Jock in Chapter One, we learn that he

"...had been born in Mureth House -- so had his father and grandfather -- it was a pity he had no children to carry on the tradition, to run about the old place and waken it to life with noise and laughter, but in other ways he was fortunate and knew it."  

There is one more book in this series, which will be our group's next selection for discussion in early 2017: "Shoulder the Sky." I'm looking forward to it!

This was book #19 that I've read to date in 2016.

"Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen

When dh & I heard that Bruce Springsteen was publishing a memoir this fall, there was absolutely no question that we would be heading to the local bookstore the day it went on sale -- waiting for the paperback be damned. ;) 

I've written before about the role Bruce played in dh's & my early relationship, but a brief recap:  I was only dimly aware of who Springsteen was (although I'd heard & loved "Prove it all Night" in high school) when I met dh in October 1981 at a dorm party. His residence nickname was "Bruuuuuce," emblazoned on the back of his official floor T-shirt. I remember visiting friends on his floor & poking my head in the open door of his room to say hello (we all did that in those days).

"Who's the hunk on your wall?" I asked, indicating the poster of a good-looking guy, onstage in a dynamic guitar hero pose, tacked up over his bed. "That's Bruce Springsteen," he explained patiently. Thankfully, he didn't hold my ignorance against me ;) and before long, he was playing me all of Bruce's albums (on cassettes on his boombox)(and before long, I was buying copies for myself). (The poster is somewhere in a box in the depths of my parents' basement... if I ever retrieve it, I'm going to frame it & hang it on the wall of our office. ;)  ) We've seen him twice together (although dh saw him several times in the late 1970s/early 1980s before he met me), once in August 1985 at Exhibition Stadium in Toronto during, shortly after we returned from our honeymoon, and once in 1992 at the SkyDome, sans the E Street Band -- a last-minute bit of luck, when a work friend of dh's couldn't attend and sold his tickets to us at face value. I seriously considered Bruce as a middle name for a boy, should we have had a son.

Anyway -- Sept. 27 rolled around (finally!!) and off to the bookstore we went. (Fortunately for our budget, the book was instantly on sale for 40% off, lol.)

The guy can write. We all knew he could write music, of course, but "Born to Run" is a wonderful book, written in a distinctive voice, chock full of glorious details, personal reflections and a wonderful, wry sense of humour.  I especially loved the early parts of the book where he writes about growing up in a tight-knit but troubled family in Freehold, New Jersey, and his early days as a musician (like many others of his generation, inspired first by Elvis & then by the Beatles and the Rolling Stones).  He delves into his troubled relationship with his father, famously expressed in songs like "Factory," "Adam Raised a Cain" and "Independence Day." He writes about his marriages, including his first marriage to actress Julianne Phillips (he admits he was not a good husband and regrets the way he handled things). As publicized, he writes with brutal honesty about the mental illness that plagued his father and the anxiety and depression that haunt him personally to this day. And yes, there are glimpses of Bruce the proud dad of three children, now in their 20s. (Encouraged by his wife Patti, he started getting up early -- anathema to a rock star! -- to make them breakfast, and concludes that if the rock and roll thing doesn't work out, he could find work as a breakfast chef in a diner somewhere. ;) )  

If you are a Springsteen fan, this is an absolute must-read. Even if you're not, it would probably still be a worthwhile read, because it's such great writing and storytelling.

*** *** ***

ALI notes:

Having read Peter Ames Carlin's "Bruce" some time ago (reviewed here), I already knew the story of Bruce's aunt Virginia (his father's older sister), who was run over while riding her tricycle as a toddler, and the lingering effect her tragic death had on the family for generations to come. 

But Bruce's book did shed new light on some characters I remembered reading about (in Dave Marsh's first book about Springsteen from the early 1980s, also called "Born to Run"):  Tex Vinyard and his wife Marion, who mentored and managed Bruce's teenaged band, the Castiles, in the mid-1960s.

What I didn't realize or remember: Tex and Marion were childless. Bruce and his friends were their "kids."  Writes Bruce:

They were friends of George [Theiss, also a member of the Castiles] who had decided to surrender the fifteen square feet of what was called their dining room to local teenage noisemakers. It was a very informal neighbourhood, black and white separated somewhat by the rug mill but generally hanging around the streets together, with Tex and Marion's tiny apartment seeming to be the hub on some sort of neighborhood teen club. They were in their thirties and childless, so they took in "strays," kids who either didn't have much of a home life or were just looking to get out of the house to someplace less confining and a little more welcoming. Tex was a temperamental, redheaded, comb-overed, loudmouthed, lascivious, pussy-joke-telling factory worker... He was also generous, loving, sweethearted and one of the most giving adults I'd met up to that time. 

Tex and Marion seemed stranded between the teen world and adulthood, so they made a home for themselves and a surrogate parental life somewhere in the middle. They weren't your parents but they weren't your peers either. As we howled away, pushing out the walls of their little home with banging guitars and crashing drums, with the neighbours a mere two inches of drywall away (what tolerance!), they made the rules and set the agenda for what would fly and what would not.... Tex became our manager and Marion the house mother and seamstress to a team of misfit townie rock-'n-rollers.  

Tex was my first surrogate father figure. He was loving in his own twisted way. More important, he was accepting. He cherished and encouraged your talents, took you for who you were and put his time, muscle, money and big black Cadillac, hauling equipment, all in the service of your dreams...   

There were adults like Tex and Marion all across the United States, real unsung heroes of rock-'n-roll who made room in their homes and in their lives to cart the equipment; to buy the guitars; to let out their basements, their garages, for practice sessions;  who'd found a place of understanding between the two combative worlds of teen life and adulthood. They would support and partake in the lives of their children. Without folks like these, the basements, the garages, the Elks clubs, the VFW halls would've been empty, and skinny, dreaming misfits would've had no place to go to learn how to turn into rock-'n-roll heroes. (from Chapter 13, "The Castiles," pp. 68-71)

Just think -- without the support, encouragement, mentorship and management provided by this  childless couple, would young Bruce Springsteen have become Bruce Springsteen, international rock superstar? Something to ponder...

(OK, the "stranded between the teen world and adulthood" line made me wince a little, but I'll forgive him... ;)  )

This was book #18 that I've read so far in 2016.

"Thrice the Brinded Cat Hath Mew'd" by Alan Bradley

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you'll know I am a big fan of the Flavia de Luce mysteries by by Alan Bradley. Flavia is a pint-sized (age 12) chemistry buff who lives in a crumbling mansion called Buckshaw with her father and two older sisters, and uses science and her wits to solve a number of mysteries in and around her small English village of Bishop's Lacey in the early 1950s post-war England.

The long wait is finally over, and Flavia #8 is now in bookstores. I was fortunate enough to find a copy a few days before it was supposed to go on sale officially. (In fact, it's more than a week since the official release date and my local bookstore still doesn't have it. Grrrrr....) 

Thrice the Brinded Cat Hath Mew'd picks up immediately where its predecessor (As Chimney Sweepers Come to Dust, reviewed here) left off. It's just before Christmas, and Flavia arrives home from a brief stint at school in Canada, expecting her family there to welcome her back. Instead, the only person there to greet her is the family retainer, Dogger -- and he has bad news: her beloved father is sick and in the hospital. Left to her own devices (even more so than usual), it doesn't take long before Flavia stumbles onto a new mystery to solve.

It was good to have Flavia back home with the familiar cast of characters around her. The actual mystery never seems to matter too much in these books -- it's the characters and the wonderful writing that hold our attention. While each mystery is self-contained, there's a continuing storyline unfolding that gradually reveals more information about Flavia & her family -- and keeps us coming back for more.  For that reason, I would highly recommend starting with the first Flavia book, "The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie," and working your way through the series in chronological order.

The mystery gets solved, but there's a cliffhanger at the end that had me gasping -- and reaching for the Kleenex box. I am not sure how long we have to wait for the next installment in the adventures of Flavia -- but it won't be soon enough to suit me!

This was book #17 that I've read to date in 2016.

"Avalanche: A Love Story" by Julia Leigh

I am always up for a good "repro-lit" read -- especially when it reflects my own story (i.e., it doesn't end with a baby) -- and earlier this year, when Pamela first wrote about "Avalanche: A Love Story" by Australian writer and film maker Julia Leigh, I put it on my wish list. Unfortunately, it took some time before the book became available in Canada;  I was finally able to download an e-copy to my Kobo in August, after Pamela announced she'd be hosting a book tour with author participation. (I also love discussing books with other people!)

"Avalanche" is not a long book -- 133 pages -- but it packs a powerful punch. Reading it brought back a flood of memories from my own days in treatment (which you can read about under the label "The Treatment Diaries") -- not all of them good. It could be a difficult read, depending on where you are in your own infertility journey.

Leigh was 38 when she met, fell in love with and married Paul (they had actually met years earlier, then reconnected). The vision of Our Child (in capitals and italics) took hold in Leigh's mind, and quickly became all-consuming. Right from the start, however, there were challenges: besides Leigh's advancing age, there was also the obstacle of Paul's vasectomy. When a reversal was unsuccessful, he underwent a surgical procedure to retrieve and freeze his sperm. Before they got to use it, though, the marriage fell apart.

Leigh decided to try for motherhood on her own. Her ex refused to let her use his frozen sperm, so (while mourning the loss of Our Child, the child she had envisioned) she began the search for another donor. She finally found one, a willing male friend, when she was 42, and over the next two years, embarked on a series of ARTs, including egg retrieval and freezing, fresh and frozen embryo transfers, ICSI, IUIs and various "add ons" that Leigh's doctor suggested might (might! -- or might not... "It's up to you...") improve her odds of success ("embryo glue," anyone??).  She toyed with -- and rejected -- the idea of using a donor egg. Her sister offered to carry a baby for her. The treatments took a rising toll on her physical, emotional and financial well-being, until she finally reached the point where she knew she could not continue.

Reading "Avalanche" brought back a flood of memories for me, from the endless number of carrots offered that keep fertility patients coming back for more, right down to noticing the doctor's expensive car parked outside the clinic. From an emotional perspective, it's not an easy read (although it's beautifully written), but based on my own (far more limited) ART experiences, I think it's a pretty accurate one. It's something of a cautionary tale -- but it would be worthwhile reading for anyone thinking of embarking on ARTs, as well as anyone (including family & friends) who wants to know what women go through when they attempt ARTs. People -- and I include my pre-ART self among them -- often assume that "oh well, you/we can always do fertility treatments" without realizing exactly what that is going to involve -- that it's a slippery slope, that you'll find yourself crossing lines and doing things that you never imagined existed in the first place -- and (especially) that all your time, money, pain and effort will not necessarily result in a take-home baby. The mind-numbing litany of details contained in "Avalanche" might be shocking to the uninitiated -- but they also confirm to those of us who went through it (or something like it) that yes, this IS a Very Big Deal and not something that should be entered into lightly. 

My main issue with the book, if I can call it that, is it left me wanting more. Leigh wrote the book shortly after she abandoned fertility treatments (which might account, in part, for its raw tone and vivid descriptions).  I am hoping for a sequel, or an epilogue to any future editions, because I would like to know how she is doing and how her life has unfolded since then.  (Of course, she is answering readers' questions as part of Pamela's book tour, so perhaps we'll hear something there about her life today!) 

This review is part of a book tour organized by Pamela at Silent Sorority. Here's her post with all the details and a linked list of others who are participating! 

ETA: Updated link with live reviews: http://blog.silentsorority.com/not-going-sugar-coat-failed-ivf-grief-real/

This was book #16 that I've read so far in 2016.

"The Bridge Ladies" by Betsy Lerner

When her 83-year-old mother needed surgery in January 2013, writer and literary agent Betsy Lerner moved in to help her recover. And every day, at least one of her mother's friends from her bridge club arrived, bearing a meal or baking. Lerner had known these women all her life -- the ladies had been playing bridge together for more than 50 years (!) -- but found herself pondering the differences between their generation and hers, and the enduring bond her mother shared with them.

"I knew that if I were to get sick, there wouldn't be such a steady stream of friends visiting," Lerner writes. "I'd be lucky to get a few texts with smiley face emojis and some messages on my wall.  Facebook may connect us across the world and through eternity, but it won't deliver a pot roast."

Lerner started spending time with the Bridge Ladies, observing the game, and interviewing them separately about their lives. Eventually, she started learning to play bridge herself.

"The Bridge Ladies" is about mothers and daughters. It's about a generation of women who grew up in a much more restrictive time -- and the much different generation that came after them, and the inevitable conflicts that resulted. It's about friendship. It's about aging. And, of course, it's about bridge.

And (surprise!! -- slight spoiler alert)  it's also about death, and grief and loss, including a couple of ALI stories, including one that's a key part of the book. Obviously, I found these parts of the book among the most touching and thought-provoking to read.

Overall, I enjoyed "The Bridge Ladies." It was not the kind of story that propels you along, full of action, etc. -- but the further you read, the more you come to enjoy and appreciate these women and how they have played the hand that life has dealt to them.  Lerner (whom I estimate is a year or two older than I am...!) has a keen eye for detail and includes some great descriptions of the people and places in her story.

I have to admit, though, that my eyes often glazed over when it came to the bridge games described in the book.  Much as my family enjoys playing cards together, I have never played bridge. I don't think my parents have either. (Rummy and canasta, yes. Bridge, no.) (My godmother, on the other hand, who never worked after she got married, once belonged to three different afternoon bridge clubs. At the same time.) Lerner does explain the game as she herself learns about it (and agonizes over it), but I have to admit, these sections of the book could have been Greek for all I understood. I wonder whether someone who had at least a rudimentary grasp of the game would get more out of this book, in that respect, than I did.

This was book #15 that I've read to date in 2016.

"Hillbilly Elegy" by J.D. Vance

I'm not sure what compelled me to pick up "Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis" by J.D. Vance. I'd already flagged "White Trash: The 400-Year Untold History of Class in America" by Nancy Isenberg as something I might want to read, and this seemed to cover similar territory in memoir form -- a genre I've always enjoyed -- with a personal focus on the experiences of one man & his family. 

After first seeing it in the bookstore a couple of weeks ago, I began hearing buzz about it. This book, it has been said, helps to explain the political rise of Donald Trump. Explain the inexplicable?? ;)  That's a tall order, but OK, I'm hooked. ;)  Once started, I found it hard to put down. It was the fastest read I've had in some time, and I finished it in less than two days. 

Vance grew up in a steeltown in southwestern Rust Belt Ohio, where his Kentucky-born grandparents moved in the years after World War II in search of work and better opportunities for their family. But he has always considered Kentucky "home," and has scads of relatives there.

(As an aside:  I read the first few chapters of the book with the dawning "holy crap" realization that Vance's mother Bev & I were probably exactly the same age -- i.e., in a different world, I could have a 31-year-old son. Yikes!!  Vance confirmed this on page 39 -- "Mom was born January 20, 1961 -- the day of John F. Kennedy's inauguration."  I'm actually a little over a week OLDER than she is. Gulp.) 

Mom instilled a love of learning in her son and, despite a teenaged pregnancy and early marriage, attended community college and became a licensed practical nurse. Unfortunately, she also became a drug addict, married at least five times and had many more boyfriends parading through the lives of Vance & his older sister. Grandpa (Papaw) was an alcoholic who reformed only after his wife doused him with gasoline and set him on fire while he was asleep after one too many. And his family's story was far from unusual in the community where he grew up.  

Vance credits a number of people -- in particular, his sister, his aunt and, most of all, his gun-toting, foul-mouthed grandmother, Mamaw -- for helping him survive in this chaotic world -- and succeed outside of it. Mamaw told him he could do anything he wanted to, encouraged (demanded!) him to go to college, and even paid for golf lessons because she knew "that's where rich people do business."  Vance wanted to go to college -- but he also knew he wasn't ready for the demands of college and adult life generally -- so he signed up for the Marines, which included time in Iraq. It was, he says, the best thing that ever happened to him. Four years later, with the support of the Marines and his family, he was off to Ohio State University -- and from there to the rarefied and alien world of Yale Law School. (Interesting side note: One of his profs and mentors there was Amy Chua, the infamous Tiger Mother, who contributes a blurb to the book's back jacket.)  He now works for an investment firm in Silicon Valley.

Vance is immensely proud of his "hillbilly" roots & culture -- but he is not blind to its faults. He believes that a culture of "learned helplessness" has taken root among his people -- the belief that the deck is stacked against them (so why make an effort?). Unlike some conservatives, he does see a place for public policy solutions (and he offers some thoughts on subjects that include social services and education). He also thinks churches could be doing more to support their communities.  But he also strongly believes that people need to learn to take responsibility for their own choices.

This was a well-written, entertaining and thoughtful book that deserves the buzz it's getting, and I am very glad I read it (and didn't wait for the paperback, lol). You may not entirely agree with Vance's ideas, but you will probably learn something, and he will make you think.

*** *** ***

ALI note: Vance's Mamaw & Papaw married as teenagers in 1947. Vance later learned that Mamaw had been pregnant, and the pregnancy was likely one reason why the couple left Kentucky for Ohio.

In later years, Mamaw sometimes spoke of a daughter who died in infancy, and she led us all to believe that the daughter was born sometime after Uncle Jimmy, Mamaw and Papaw's eldest child [born in 1951]. Mamaw suffered eight miscarriages in the decade between Uncle Jimmy's birth and my mother's. But recently my sister discovered a birth certificate for "Infant" Vance, the aunt I never knew, who died so young that her birth certificate also lists her date of death. The baby who brought my grandparents to Ohio didn't survive her first week. On that birth certificate, the baby's brokenhearted mother lied about her age. Only fourteen at the time and with a seventeen-year-old husband, she couldn't tell the truth lest they ship her back to Jackson or send Papaw to jail.  

Mamaw's first foray into adulthood ended in tragedy. Today I often wonder: Without the baby, would she have ever left Jackson? Would she have run off with Jim Vance to foreign territory? Mamaw's entire life -- and the trajectory of our family -- may have changed for a baby who lived only six days.  (page 27)

*** *** ***

Reading this book reminded me of an excellent multi-part documentary I saw on PBS Frontline about 10 years ago called "Country Boys," following two teenaged boys growing up and struggling to finish high school in rural Kentucky.  I wonder what has happened to them in the years since then? 

*** *** ***

This was book #14 that I've read to date in 2016.

"Florence Foster Jenkins" and the power of chasing a dream

Dh & I are generally avid moviegoers, but it's been a busy summer -- and, quite frankly, there haven't been a lot of movies around lately that we've really wanted to see. Happily, that is changing. :) 

(Some possible spoilers.) 

The first movie we saw after our return from our recent road trip was "Florence Foster Jenkins," starring Meryl Streep, Hugh Grant and Simon Helberg (better known as Howard on "The Big Bang Theory"). I had heard a bit about the movie and the true story it was based on, and seen a couple of trailers, and a few days before we went, I picked up the book that provided the source material for the script, "Florence Foster Jenkins" by Nicholas Martin and Jasper Rees. It's the type of quirky, real-life story that I love.

Florence was a wealthy New York socialite and patron of the arts who fancied herself an opera singer -- and actually gave a sold-out concert at Carnegie Hall shortly before her death in 1944. To put it mildly, she was not. You can find some of her recordings on YouTube if you care to hear the proof. In fact, some have dubbed her "the world's worst singer." She was enabled in her delusions of grandeur by her common-law husband, the second-rate actor St. Clair Bayfield (Hugh Grant), who worked tirelessly to encourage and protect her, and people in the arts community who relied on her generous patronage. We first hear her sing at the same time aspiring pianist/composer Cosme McMoon does (Helberg -- who really does play piano in the movie!), when he auditions to become her accompanist. The expression on his face when she opens her mouth and lets out those first few off-key notes is priceless (and possibly Oscar-worthy). I have to admit I laughed so hard I had tears streaming down my face.

But while there is humour in the movie, it's not played strictly for laughs. Streep does a marvellous job (as usual...!) of conveying Florence's sincerity and underlying fragility. It's funny, it's a bit sad in parts, and it's touching.

There's a scene in the movie where Florence has just confessed to the new doctor treating her that she has syphilis, contracted from her first husband on her wedding night. (It's suggested in the book that the disease may have had an effect on her hearing, and singing.)  In those days, pre-penicillin, there was no cure for syphilis, and Florence lived far longer than most people with the illness. As a result, her common-law marriage/relationship with St. Clair Bayfield was of a non-sexual nature.

After the doctor leaves, she & St. Clair are talking and she expresses how she wishes she could have given him a child. "We could have been a family," she says sadly. "We ARE a family," he assures her. (Hugh Grant is also amazingly good here.)  The exchange reminded me of another Meryl Streep movie, "Julie & Julia," where she played the wistfully childless Julia Child, supported by her loving husband Paul (Stanley Tucci). (My post about "Julie & Julia" remains my all-time most viewed and commented upon, and continues to draw traffic and comments.) 

There's nowhere in the book or the movie where Florence's childlessness is specifically linked to her musical obsessions, but it's easy to see that music filled a void for her (just as food and cooking filled a similar void for Julia Child). "Music is and always has been my life," she says. We believe her.

Reflecting on the movie later, I was also reminded of Tracey Cleantis's book "The Next Happy" (which I reviewed here), about the sometimes destructive power of chasing your dreams and how to let them go. Unlike most of us, Florence had the money and the social clout to keep following her improbable dream long after most of us would have had to throw in the towel. It's suggested in both the book and the movie, though, that being confronted with the negative reviews of her Carnegie Hall concert, and the realization that people were laughing at her, shattered her illusions and ultimately contributed to her death a few months later.

Nevertheless, Florence's story also reminds us that we can find value and meaning in doing what we love to the best of our ability -- even if we know we'll never be truly great at it.  People recognized that Florence's singing was sub-par (even if she never did) -- but (as the movie shows) they also admired her can-do spirit and determination. "People may say that I couldn't sing. But no one can say that I didn't sing," Florence observes with a smile at the movie's end (a quote attributed to the real-life Florence).

The book was interesting in filling out the details of Florence's life, but unless you're really curious about her and the times she lived in, you can probably go straight to the movie (which I would happily recommend). 

This was book #13 that I've read so far in 2016.

"Kick" by Paula Byrne

After many years (too long) in relative obscurity, it seems Kathleen "Kick" Kennedy, favourite sister of the late president, is finally getting her share of the limelight with not just one but two biographies published within several months of each other.

Earlier this spring, I read & reviewed the first of those biographies, "Kick Kennedy" by Barbara Leaming. I was surprised to see yet another book about Kick on the shelves of my local mega-bookstore in early July. I finished reading it while on my recent vacation.

The Leaming book focused specifically on Kick's time in England. It provides readers with some good background on life among the upper classes in England before, during and after the Second World War -- the England that Kick knew and loved so well -- and on Chatsworth and the Devonshire family, specifically. Leaming was lucky enough to interview Andrew, Duke of Devonshire, and several of Kick's other British friends and contemporaries (several of whom have since passed away).

By contrast, "Kick: The True Story of JFK's Sister and the Heir to Chatsworth" by Paula Byrne covers Kick's entire life, drawing on previously unreleased material including Kick's own letters, diaries and scrapbooks. As a result, it's a much fuller picture of Kick's life, personality and influences. As one Goodreads reviewer noted, the title is slightly misleading, because Kick's romance with & marriage to Billy Hartington (the heir to Chatsworth) is only part of the overall story here. However, Byrne is British and I imagine the book was titled with a British audience in mind (not sure many North American readers would know what Chatsworth is/was). (The cover photo, though, plays up the "JFK's sister" angle, with a photo of both of them together at the beach.)

If I had to pick just one book to recommend to someone wanting to know more about this remarkable young woman, I would choose this one. Together, both books provide a much fuller portrait of her than we've had to date.

This was book #12 that I've read so far in 2016.

"Sex Object: A Memoir" by Jessica Valenti

I seem to be on a feminist reading kick lately. ;)  "Sex Object: A Memoir" is a slim but powerful volume by Jessica Valenti, a prominent member of the new wave of younger feminists, who co-founded the website Feministing and writes for The Guardian, among other publications.

"Sex Object"  traces Valenti's experiences growing up female in New York City and, in particular, as an object of male attention -- some of it wanted, but a lot of it definitely not. What does it do to your psyche to be exposed to relentless, pervasive sexism, day in and day out, for a large part of your female life?   This is something that I don't think most men realize or understand, and that I don't think a lot women really think about in-depth. (Maybe because it's too depressing?)

"Laugh it off... don't pay attention... don't let it bother you," we are told. How can we not let it bother us? As Valenti writes:

Pretending these offenses roll off our backs is strategic -- don't give them the f***ing satisfaction --  but it isn't the truth. You lose something along the way... even subversive sarcasm adds a cool-girl nonchalance, an updated, sharper version of the expectation that women be forever pleasant, even as we're eating sh**.  

This sort of posturing is a performance that I requires strength I do not have anymore. Rolling with the punches and giving as good as we're getting requires that we subsume our pain under a veneer of I don't give a sh**.  This inability to be vulnerable -- the unwillingness to be victims, even if we are -- doesn't protect us, it just covers up the wreckage.  

But no one wants to listen to our sad stories unless they are smoothed over with a joke or nice melody. And even then, not always. No one wants to hear a woman talking or writing about pain in a way that suggests it doesn't end. Without a pat solution, silver lining, or happy ending we're just complainers -- downers who don't realize how good we actually have it. [emphasis mine]

(That last paragraph gave me a jolt of recognition -- ALIers, she's singing our song, isn't she??)

This book made me think about my own personal experiences with unwanted male attention and sexist treatment. I've never been flashed or groped on the subway, that I remember (thank goodness -- and knock wood), but I've got my own war stories to tell. (Don't we all?)  Back around the time of the horrendous 2014 murders in Isla Vista, California (which Valenti wrote about here), there was a hashtag going around -- #YesAllWomen -- where women described online their own experiences with sexism and harassment. I started (but never finished) a blog post into which I poured memories of my own experiences. Such as:

• The elementary schoolboys who took great delight in snapping the elastic straps on my training bra.
• The catcalls.
• The leers.
• The slurs scrawled across the door of my high school locker.
• The nights I would speedwalk home from campus by myself, avoiding the shrubbery and constantly looking over my shoulder. (How many guys do you know who did that?) 
• The nights I spent money on a cab I could ill afford, so that I wouldn't have to walk home in fear.
• The anonymous phone call, in which some jerk described what he wanted to do to me. (It was probably just a "prank" call -- but I hung up and then locked myself in my bedroom, shaking in fear for the next few hours. My roommates weren't home; I was alone in the house. Did he know that?) 
• The drunken idiot who used to hang around me at college parties, refusing to take a hint. It was funny for awhile (until it wasn't).  The truly hilarious, ridiculous thing is he could never get my name right. I was waiting at a bus stop across from the dorm once, when I heard him screaming, "Linda, I love you!!" out a window. "MY NAME IS NOT LINDA!!" I yelled back, trying to stifle a giggle. 
• The rejected suitor, who tried to penny the door of my dorm room shut, with me sleeping inside of it (I woke up with a start & started yelling "Who's there??" loud enough to wake my next-door neighbour -- he fled, mission unaccomplished, leaving a few pennies lying on the floor in front of my door). (I knew it was him, because he'd told me about how he and some of his floormates had done the same thing as a prank to someone else.) 
• The scruffy young panhandler who, when I politely declined to hand over some change, started following me down the street, screaming unprintable things at me. (To add insult to injury, this happened right outside of the clinic where I used to go for ultrasounds during my infertility treatment days.)
• The man who approached and then grabbed my sister as she, a friend & I strolled through a park across the road from my grandparents' home in early 1970s sleepy smalltown Minnesota. (She gave him a sharp jab to the ribs with her elbow & he let her go. We ran home, sobbing. My grandparents called the sheriff -- a high school classmate of my uncle's -- but by the time they got to the park, the man was long gone.)

#YesAllWomen. #YesMeToo.

Some reviewers have called this book depressing. It is, in a way (particularly the final chapter, which is simply a mind-numbing sample of the ridiculously misogynistic comments Valenti has received through email and social media) -- but it also makes you think -- about your own experiences, about how pervasive this kind of behaviour is (still! today!! despite the many great strides women have made over the past 50 years), how long it has been going on, what it will take to inspire change, and what kind of world we are leaving to the next generation.

Valenti dedicated this book to her daughter, Layla.  ALI alert! -- Layla was born prematurely by emergency C-section when Valenti developed pre-eclampsia and then HELLP syndrome during a difficult pregnancy. Layla spent several months in the NICU;  her mother developed post-traumatic stress disorder. These are painful chapters to read, but I so appreciated Valenti's brutal honesty in writing them.

This is book #11 that I've read so far in 2016.

"Vittoria Cottage" by D.E. Stevenson

"Vittoria Cottage" is the latest book we're reading & discussing together on my online D.E. Stevenson group.  It's a typical DES read -- the literary equivalent of comfort food, or a nice cup of tea.

The plot, such as it is, revolves around Caroline Dering, a 40-something widow, whose life revolves around her three grownup children in post-WWII England. Picking blackberries one day, Caroline meets a mysterious stranger, Robert Shepperton, who has come to stay in the village. Of course she winds up falling in love with him -- but alas, he seems to have fallen for her visiting younger sister, Harriet (and Harriet for him).

Meanwhile, Caroline's son returns home from military service in Malaya, and her spoiled, headstrong older daughter becomes engaged to the son of a prominent local nobleman, against the wishes of both families. It's not much of a plot -- it ends rather abruptly, and in some ways, it's very dated.  I wouldn't say it's the best DES novel I've read, but the characters are well-drawn and endearing, and the writing draws you in to the story. On its own merits, it was enjoyable, and I'm having fun taking part in the online discussions.

While I wasn't entirely satisfied with the abrupt ending, there are two more books about the Dering family we'll be reading & discussing in the months to come:  "Music in the Hills" and "Shoulder the Sky."

ALI note: Caroline assists at a difficult delivery of a premature baby. And she has another sister who has no children. She is mentioned but not seen in this book, but I understand she figures more prominently in the next novel.  Hmmm...

This was book #10 that I've read so far in 2016.

"Big Girls Don't Cry" by Rebecca Traister

I so enjoyed reading "All the Single Ladies" (reviewed here) that as soon as I was finished, I picked up an earlier book by the same author, Rebecca Traister:  "Big Girls Don't Cry: The Election That Changed Everything For American Women." 

The election Traister writes about here is the 2008 U.S. presidential election, including not only the story of Hillary Clinton's historic but unsuccessful campaign for the Democratic Party nomination, but also of Michelle Obama's critical role in her husband's campaign (and how she had to downplay her own considerable accomplishments to make herself -- and him -- more palatable to the broader American public), Sarah Palin's rise to fame as John McCain's running mate, and other ways that women affected the contest. What did it mean to be an American woman and a feminist in 2008? Traister explores this question thoroughly.

The story of the 2008 election is framed by Traister's own experiences and observations as a young feminist writer. She began the year as a John Edwards supporter. She didn't especially like Hillary Clinton and, like so many others, found herself wowed by Barack Obama (or, perhaps more accurately, by Michelle Obama) -- but by the time Clinton conceded defeat to Obama...

I looked around at the people waving their flags, hoisting their kids, and cheering for her. My phone began to vibrate with calls from my mother, my cousin, my girlfriends, all watching from their homes. As Clinton stepped off the stage, I saw a text from Geraldine. "I am completely losing it," she wrote. It was then that I lost it too. Sprinting from the press area, where Clinton's reporting squad were saying their goodbyes after months on the road together, I found space behind a pillar. Next to me was Matt Drudge, who seemed not to realize or care that I was stupidly sobbing. I was so tired. Tired of caring so much about a woman I hadn't meant to care about at all. Tired of arguing with my friends. Tired of being angry at people I'd never been angry at before. Tired of being identified with Hillary even when I didn't like her. Tired of resisting the fact that maybe I did like her quite a lot. (page 203)

Reading this book now, eight years later, in the middle of the primaries leading up to the 2016 election, I had the weird sensation of deja vu, or history repeating itself. Clashes between two different generations of feminists? Check. Outrageously sexist remarks from other candidates and media commentators? Check. Controversial statements by Gloria Steinem? Check. Frat-boy types running the leading male contender's campaign? Check.  Ad nauseum commentary about Clinton's "likeability" (or lack thereof)? Check.

Coincidentally, I happened to be reading the very page describing Clinton's pre-convention concession to Obama, with the famous quote about the glass ceiling with 18 million cracks in it, on the morning after Clinton clinched the 2016 Democratic Party nomination (which was exactly 8 years to the day later). I remember tears rolling down my face as Clinton moved to make Obama's nomination unanimous at the 2008 convention; my eyes welled up again as I watched this latest, even more historic moment. 

If you believe that it's high time America had a woman president -- or even if you're not convinced that having a woman as president would or should be a big frickin' deal -- or that that woman should be Hillary Clinton -- read this book. You might not change your mind -- but you WILL find yourself thinking.

(In Canada, we've already had a female prime minister -- albeit we've never actually had one who was elected to the job by voters. Kim Campbell became prime minister in 1993 by virtue of winning the leadership of the Progressive Conservatives, the governing party of the time, after Brian Mulroney stepped down as prime minister and party leader.  Her tenure as PM lasted all of four months:  the party was decimated in the Oct. 25 election, in which she lost her own seat in Parliament, and she resigned the party leadership shortly afterward. Several women from a number of different political parties have also been elected as premiers of several Canadian provinces over the past 25 years.)

This was book #9 that I've read so far in 2016.

"All the Single Ladies" by Rebecca Traister

As someone who's been happily married for more than (gulp) 30 years, you might wonder why I was interested in reading "All the Single Ladies: Unmarried Women and the Rise of an Independent Nation" by Rebecca Traister, who writes about women and feminism for Salon, among other publications. 

Of course, all married women were single once too -- and will more likely than not be single again at some point in our lives. Married, single, widowed, divorced, cohabiting -- whatever your status, the main reason you should read Traister's book is that it's a fascinating read with messages that are applicable in many ways to all women.

Traister uses historical and statistical research as well as personal anecdotes from a diverse range of women (including herself) to trace the experiences of unmarried women throughout the centuries, and makes the case that they have been a driving force behind many of the political, social and economic changes that have shaped life as we know it today in the 21st century. There are chapters on friendship, work, race, class, geography, money (or the lack thereof), sex, marriage and parenthood (including the role of ARTs and egg freezing). 

Of course, single women run the gamut from those hoping to someday be mothers to the adamantly childfree by choice to single mothers. The last full chapter of the book ("Then Comes What?") is devoted to the question of motherhood and the role it plays in single women's lives.  It even carefully explains the distinctions between women who are childfree by choice and those childless by circumstance.

Overall, there was much in this book that I, as a childless married woman, could relate to, particularly in the attitudes of others and the way we are treated by society -- the weird mixture of both pity and snarky enviousness, the accusations of "selfishness," the assumption that all women want to be and will be mothers someday, the constant inquiries as to the status of my uterus... 

I enjoyed this book so much that I've picked up Traister's previous book, "Big Girls Don't Cry: The Election That Changed Everything for American Women" (i.e., the 2008 U.S. election) for my next read. I'm enjoying it tremendously as well -- although it's somewhat depressing to realize how little progress has been made over the past 8 years. A review will be forthcoming once I'm finished.

This was book #8 that I've read to date in 2016.

Recent reading

"Clapton: The Autobiography" by classic rock guitar hero Eric Clapton was one of those books that I started a long time ago, put down to read something else, and then came back to in increments. I finally finished it just before our big move. Dh is a big Clapton fan, particularly of his more recent blues stuff (the "Mr. Johnson & Me" album, for example), and of course he's been a part of the soundtrack of my life, from the Yardbirds through Cream, Derek and the Dominos and his solo stuff. I'd also read the memoir written by his ex-wife, Pattie Boyd (also his best friend George Harrison's ex-wife -- therein lies a tale...!), which I reviewed here, and was interested to see how the two stories compared.

Clapton has a intriguing personal story -- and what do you know, he's half-Canadian. :)  His birth father was a Canadian soldier who impregnated his mother, Patricia, when she was a teenager during the Second World War. Clapton grew up thinking of Pat as his older sister and his grandparents as his parents. He discovered the truth when he was a boy and it obviously had a profound impact on his relationships with women throughout his adult life.

Reading about Clapton's adventures as a fledgling musician in London in the early 1960s was fun. Slogging through the stories about his eventual addictions -- first to heroin and then to alcohol -- not so much. Fortunately, his second attempt at rehab was successful, and he has helped many other addicts regain sobriety through his Crossroads treatment centre in Antigua, which he has funded through the occasional sales of his guitar collection and other memorabilia.

As many bereaved parents know, Eric Clapton is "one of us" -- the horrific loss of his toddler son, Conor, in 1991 inspired the hit ballad "Tears in Heaven," and he writes starkly and movingly about his grief over the little boy's death. A relapse might have been understandable, but he vowed to live a life that was worthy of his son, and has remained sober for well over 20 years.

In recent years, Clapton has found redemption in his marriage to a much-younger woman, with whom he has three daughters (now teenagers). He ends the book on a note of profound appreciation for the life he now lives.

Overall, the tone is a bit dry and matter of fact, but I appreciated Clapton's honesty and sense of humour. 

*** *** ***

Anyone who knows me knows about my lifelong fascination with the Kennedy family, and it's been great in recent years to see the Kennedy women getting a share of the spotlight. Just before Christmas, I read & reviewed a new book about one of the lesser-known Kennedys, oldest daughter/sister Rosemary.  And over the past few weeks, I tackled "Kick Kennedy:  The Charmed Life and Tragic Death of the Favourite Kennedy Daughter" by Barbara Leaming.  

I read an earlier biography of Kick from the library some years ago, called "Kathleen Kennedy: Her Life and Times" by Lynne McTaggart (which I remember as very good -- alas, it is sadly out of print now), as well as other books about the Kennedys, so I was familiar with the story of Kathleen, or Kick, as she was known to family members & friends. This new book skips over Kick's childhood entirely: it begins with her arrival in London in 1938, when her father was appointed the U.S. Ambassador to Great Britain, and focuses on her life in England. 

Kick, then 18 and full of the Kennedy charm, was an instant hit among her peers in the aristocracy, who were fascinated by how different she was, and she enjoyed an active social life. (Leaming interviewed many of Kick's friends and in-laws -- just in time, as many have since passed away -- and was privy to some previously unknown details and insights.) After making her debut and being presented at court before the King and Queen with her mother and sister Rosemary, Kick quickly attracted the attention of many suitors, but soon fell in love with Billy Hartington, the oldest son & heir of the Duke of Devonshire, and a member of one of the wealthiest and most influential families in Britain. The Devonshires, however, were staunch members and leaders of the Anglican Church;  the Kennedys, of course, prided themselves on the image they presented as a model Catholic family. Neither family encouraged the romance. 

With the coming of the Second World War, Joe Kennedy sent his family back to America. Kick spent the next several years writing to Billy and searching for a way to return to England. When she finally did return in 1943, as a Red Cross worker, she & Billy realized they still loved each other. Dazzled by the prospect of becoming a duchess and the political and social role she could play, as well as by love, Kick finally agreed to raise her children as Anglicans, and the couple was married at a registry office in May 1944, in the presence of Billy's family, who had also grown to love her. The lone Kennedy family member to attend was Kick's older brother, Joe Jr.  Sadly, both Joe Jr. and Billy were killed in action just a few short months later.

I could relate to Kick's grief over her loss and the sudden turn of events that changed her life. She had many so many drastic changes and sacrifices in her life already in order to marry Billy;  now she would have to rethink her role and identity all over again. I could also relate to the pressure she felt to produce an heir in the short time she & Billy had together. After his death, she had to endure the stares & whispers of the locals who wondered whether she was pregnant (when she already knew that she was not). Ugh!!

Sadly, Kick's life also ended in tragedy a few short years later. I did find the last chapter of the book, detailing the final year or so of her life, a bit rushed. Many details I've read elsewhere are curiously missing here:  for example, the fact that her mother (who had threatened to disown her when she announced her plans to marry yet another aristocrat -- this one not yet divorced, with a reputation for womanizing) sent cards to friends asking for prayers for Kick's soul (indicating her belief that Kick was paying for her sins by languishing in purgatory); the Kennedy family's general silence thereafter on the subject of their daughter and sister; or the poignant epitaph on her gravestone in the Devonshire family plot, chosen for her by her mother-in-law, the Duchess:  "Joy she gave; joy she has found."

I found Kick to be a fascinating woman -- someone who defied her family and her church to marry the man she loved, who was attracted to the idea of playing a public role in the life of her community (there were hints that she was potentially just as gifted a politician as her brothers), who wasn't satisfied just being a "Kennedy girl" and was willing to risk everything she held dear -- her family, her faith and her spiritual salvation -- to explore and carve out a meaningful, independent life for herself.

Incidentally, Kick's sister-in-law, Deborah (Debo, nee Mitford -- one of THE infamous Mitford sisters), who DID become Duchess of Devonshire, suffered several pregnancy losses, and wrote about them in her memoir, "Wait For Me!" It's in my to-read pile;  perhaps I need to move that one up closer to the top. ;) 

These were books #6 & #7 that I've read to date in 2016.

"Life Without Baby" by Lisa Manterfield

Back in 2001 (almost 15!! years ago now!!), the difficult decision I made to stop infertility treatments was compounded by the sad lack of supportive resources on the subject of how to face the future without the children you'd assumed you'd have. Most of the infertility books in my collection contained no more than a page or two on the subject.  There were a handful of books specifically about life without children -- many of them out of print and difficult to find. Many of the resources I found were aimed more at childfree by choice women (although there were helpful tips and perspectives to be had there too) -- and some, bizarrely, lumped childless/free living together with adoption after infertility (!).  (Yes, they're both ways to resolve infertility without giving birth to a biological child, but there's a BIG difference in the end result...!) 

There were no blogs in 2001. There were a (very) few active message boards where, thankfully, I finally found some kindred spirits in similar situations who helped me through the difficult transition to a permanent life without children. For the most part, though, my kindred spirits & I were all fumbling our way forward in the dark with very little in the way of guidance or expert knowledge about what to expect or what we could do to help ourselves and each other.

"Life Without Baby" is the comprehensive, step-by-step, how-to book that I desperately wished I had had back then. Author Lisa Manterfield is well known in the childless/free segment of the ALI blogging community for her Life Without Baby blog & website, which she launched back in 2010.  Since then, Life Without Baby has become a welcome oasis of comfort, sanity and humour for me and many other women facing a life without the children we'd dreamed of having.

Around the same time as she launched the Life Without Baby site, Lisa published a wonderful memoir about her struggle with infertility and coming to terms with childlessness, "I'm Taking My Eggs and Going Home" (my review here).  Now she's taken everything she's learned over the past few years about living without children, from her own experience and from the women she's helped, and turned it into a book of collected wisdom on the subject.  It's a comprehensive -- yet warm & chatty -- look at the practical side of coming to terms with childlessness, with practical advice and tips, journaling exercises, and stories from Lisa's own personal experience.

Even though I am 15 years down this road less travelled, there was still a lot in Lisa's book that I found appealing and thought-provoking, not to mention familiar.  ;)  It's a welcome & much-needed book, and I'm so happy it's here to help other women who are following in our footsteps. Hopefully, for them, the path ahead won't be quite so lonely or scary.

Lisa recently wrote a guest post for this blog, based on a chapter from her book. You can read her thoughts on the subject of "embracing possibility" here.

This was book #5 that I have read so far in 2016.

"The Baker's Daughter" by D.E. Stevenson

Although I know I read several novels by D.E. Stevenson from the local library when I was a teenager, "The Baker's Daughter" is the one that sticks with me -- perhaps because I managed to snag a paperback copy at a used bookstore when I was in university, and so was able to re-read it more than once. The last time I read it was more than 30 years ago, though -- so I was happy to find that I enjoyed it just as much (and remembered so much of the story) even after all this time.

Sue Pringle is the baker's daughter of the title, forced to leave school to keep house for her father after her beloved mother passes away. Then he remarries, leaving Sue at loose ends and at odds with her new stepmother -- until she surprises everyone by taking a job keeping house for John Darnay, an eccentric artist, and his glamorous wife who have taken up residence at an old converted mill out in the Scottish countryside. No sooner does Sue arrive than bored Mrs. Darnay leaves for the bright lights of London. Sue opts to stay and finds a new purpose and happiness in her life. Of course, she winds up falling in love with the absent-minded painter -- but there are several twists and turns in the plot before -- spoiler alert!! lol -- the requisite happy ending.

The things I enjoyed about this novel 30+ years ago are still the things I enjoy today -- the well developed characters, Sue's innocence, the strong sense of morality and old-fashioned propriety expressed by the main characters, Sue's strong relationship with her loving but anxious grandparents. A descriptive scene where Sue's grandfather and his friends teach Darnay to curl on an outdoor pond is still a delight to read.

Another great "comfort food" novel from D.E. Stevenson.

This was book #4 (and the second Stevenson book...!) that I've read to date in 2016.

Right now...

Right now... (an occasional meme)

Reading:  "The Baker's Daughter," another D.E. Stevenson novel (albeit not being discussed by my online group). This is the DES novel that I remember most clearly & fondly from my youth. It's all coming back to me as I read, and I am enjoying it all over again. :)

Watching: I'm not much for superheroes (although I've enjoyed the "Avengers" movies)... but I am getting a huge kick out of watching "Agent Carter" these past few weeks.  I just can't get into vampires and zombies -- but secret agents in 1940s Hollywood?  I'm in!  :)  

Listening:  For squirrels overhead (& hoping I won't hear anything... :p ). 

Following:  My online book group's discussion of D.E. Stevenson's "Listening Valley."  

Drinking: Ginger ale. 

Eating: Way too much junk food lately. :p Two visits to McDonalds in three days -- ugh. :p

Wearing: My post-layoff uniform of yoga pants & a T-shirt. :)  Comfort rules!!

Anticipating: Afternoon tea at the King Edward Hotel with dh's female cousins (the same ones I went to New York City with in fall 2013). :)

Contemplating:  Condos. (And a potential upcoming post on the subject. ;)  )

Loving: Being able to sleep in.  

Wondering: Why the formatting of this post is so wonky??? (Grrrrr.....)