The Anti-Romantic Child: A Story of Unexpected Joy by Priscilla Gilman, 304 pages. Available in hardcover, Kindle, and ebook from HarperCollins. (paperback coming in April 2012)
Priscilla Gilman experienced childhood as a whirlwind of imagination and creative play. Later, as a student and a scholar of Wordsworth, she embraced the poet's romantic view of children—and eagerly anticipated her own son's birth, certain that he, too, would come “trailing clouds of glory.” Though extraordinary, Benjamin showed signs of a developmental dis-order that would require intensive therapies and special school-ing, altering the course Priscilla had imagined for her family.
In The Anti-Romantic Child, an incredible synthesis of memoir and literature, Gilman explores the complexity of our hopes for our families and ourselves. Using Wordsworth's poetry as a touchstone, she describes her journey through crisis to a place of peace and resilience. Gilman illuminates the flourishing of life that occurs when we embrace the unexpected, and shows how events and situations often perceived as setbacks can actually enrich us.
Not since Beth Kephart's A Slant of Sun have I been so moved by a story of mother and child. I didn't fully understand the anti-romantic of the title, even though I knew Gilman was a romantic literature professor, until the story gracefully unfolded. Because I don't always read the descriptions (I'm learning), I thought it was going to be about childrearing as an academic, and the unexpected rewards of motherhood, blah blah blah. Instead, she reveals her expectations, disappointments, and triumphs in raising her son with special needs - while seamlessly weaving Wordsworth ino the narrative. Which automatically gets extra points. I was riveted by the richness of Gilman's writing - she articulates with precision and artistry how she navigates the winding and lonely road of advocating for her son. And even more, I appreciated her honesty while struggling over parenting choices, struggles that every mother experiences, but felt more acutely when trying to gain ground against a disability. It is a vivid and beautiful picture of mother love - a devotion that requires tending but cannot diminished by circumstance. Good stuff.
review copy provided by publisher
Tolstoy and the Purple Chair: My Year of Magical Reading by Nina Sankovitch, 260 pages. Available in hardcover, ebook, and Kindle from Harper Collins.
Nina Sankovitch has always been a reader. As a child, she discovered that a trip to the local bookmobile with her sisters was more exhilarating than a ride at the carnival. Books were the glue that held her immigrant family together. When Nina's eldest sister died at the age of forty-six, Nina turned to books for comfort, escape, and introspection. In her beloved purple chair, she rediscovered the magic of such writers as Toni Morrison, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Ian McEwan, Edith Wharton, and, of course, Leo Tolstoy. Through the connections Nina made with books and authors (and even other readers), her life changed profoundly, and in unexpected ways. Reading, it turns out, can be the ultimate therapy.
Many of you already know my love for books about reading books. It is a wonderful feeling to bond with someone (even a stranger) over a shared love of reading. This book appeared to be the mother lode. And it was good, but not what I expected. Nina Sankovitch lost her beloved sister to cancer and as a way to deal with her tremendous grief she takes a year "off" to do nothing but read. A book a day. Seriously. Are you wondering how that is possible and if she has a family? Yes, a wonderfully supportive one. And while she talks about many of the books she read during her magical year, it became a vehilcle to deal with her grief. Again, not exactly what I anticipated. As a result I started to think about how people cope with various trials and it made me sad for the author. While I will be the first to tell you of the healing properties of curling up with a book, when it comes to deep sorrow there aren't enough books in the world to console the heart. And Sankovitch herself didn't seem truly satisfied or comforted which made it hard for this reader to see the point. Except that it's nice she got to read so much...
review copy provided by publisher
A Year and Six Seconds: A Love Story by Isabel Gillies, 256 pages. Available now in hardcover, ebook, and Kindle from Hyperion.
A Year and Six Seconds is the true story of New York Times bestselling memoirist Isabel Gillies's valiant yet bumbling efforts to pick herself up after her husband leaves her for another woman---and of how she stumbles upon true love.
Having read and enjoyed her first book Happens Every Day, I was curious about the rest of the story. What happened after she packs up her two boys, leaves her cheating college professor husband, and moves in with her parents in New York City? Aside from being a giant mess...how does she navigate this next part? As in her first book, author Gillies does not seem to hold back, even when it portrays her in a poor light.
I am confused about the purpose of this book - is it supposed to be triumphant, insightful, inspiring, or just serve our leftover questions from the first book? (I'm guessing the latter, guilty as charged). I already knew she remarries...a curiosity aroused after finishing book one and sated by google. Admittedly, I was expecting something a little less sloppy. And while I defended her right to fall apart while her marriage was crumbling, I didn't realize she was going to turn into one of those girls everyone knew in college (or high school) that always has a man or needs to have one or whatever. Granted, living with your parents as an adult is stressful enough without the added issues that come from divorce but I didn't get the sense that she was moving forward at all. She floated around, got her old job back, regularly swam in puddle of self pity, stumbled on her husband and now she's happy again. Sorry if that was a spoiler...but I'm not sure there is a story to be spoiled here.
review copy provided by publisher via NetGalley
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