I read three amazing books this week. I should have been working on library-career-advancing projects, but I just didn’t feel like it. My rheumatologist changed my meds, and I’ve been having the most unpleasant side effects, including headaches, a bloated stomach and a puffy face. So, I spent my evenings this week slacking off. I took myself off the meds this evening. No, I’m not a doctor, but I play one on TV. I wonder what the half life of this drug is, anyway…
But, I digress.
My book discussion group is reading The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers this month. I’m not sure why I hadn’t read it until now; I remember when my mother was in college (she went to college for the first time when she was pert near 40), this was one of her favorite books. Even though McCullers was only 23 when she wrote this book, she was able to capture quite well the desires and fears of four very different people living in a small town in Georgia during the depression. The central character is a deaf-mute, John Singer, who is unwittingly befriended by three very different people - a black doctor who is obsessed with saving his “people,” a young tomboy who loves classical music, and a cafe owner who collects newspapers and spends most of his days watching his customers. Because Singer doesn’t talk, each of his three “friends” end up placing him on somewhat of a pedestal in their minds. What they don’t realize, unfortunately, is that Singer himself is struggling to cope with losing his only friend when he (the friend) is institutionalized. The way McCullers weaves their stories, set against the backdrop of the Depression and its effects on the south, is like music. I don’t remember my life at 23, but I suspect my own emotional development was nowhere near McCullers.
The second book I read was The Professor’s Daughter by Emily Raboteau. I had heard about this book shortly after it was published a couple of years ago, but it must have dropped off my “to read” list. I discovered it in the library when I was looking for a copy of McCullers’ work. I’d also forgotten that the story is set in Princeton. The central character, Emma, has a white mother, a black father, and a brother who is in a coma, and the story goes back and forth between Emma’s own telling of her current life and her memories of her brother, and a second-person view of her father’s growing up. I think what lingers with me in terms of this book is the way Raboteau is able to deal with interracial issues and father/son and mother/daughter relationships in such a seamless, flowing way while interspersing the story with bits of poetry, folklore, slave narratives and American Indian legends.
The book I just finished this evening is The Icarus Girl by Helen Oyeyemi. Jess, is the eight-year-old daughter of a Nigerian mother and a white (English) father. She has never fit in at school and has no friends, preferring to spend hours by herself instead. Plus, she is prone to throwing tantrums. When she goes to visit her mother’s family in Nigeria for the first time, Jess meets a strange girl named Titiola. At first Jess is happy to have “TillyTilly” as a friend (Jess calls her this because she is afraid of pronouncing Titiola incorrectly) especially since TillyTilly understands her and has “magical” powers. But when TillyTilly shows up in England, Jess’s already troubled life gets worse. The “magic” become less playful and more hurtful, and Jess becomes frightened and tries to free herself of her new friend. No one else can see TillyTilly and no one believes Jess when she tries to tell them about the bad things TillyTilly is doing. But this is not just a story about a girl with an evil imaginary friend. It is a story of relationships and loss. It is mysterious and beautiful. Oyeyemi was only 20 when she wrote this novel, but the way she is able to see things through the eyes of a young girl while delving into the spiritual realm is incredible.
Even though I’ve blathered on for a while, I’m really at a loss for words when I think about the serendipity of my reading three first novels by young women authors in the same week. The three works complement each other so well and leave me with such a feeling of satisfaction (and a desire to bask in their beauty) that I’m hesitant to pick up another book right away.