08/ 20/ 2016
I don’t know much about Pre-Revolutionary France. Most of what I know is from the film Marie Antoinette starring Kirsten Dunst (… I know that’s not saying much). I stumbled upon Sally Christie’s Sisters of Versailles while shopping last Christmas at Target. It’s the first novel in Christie’s trilogy about King Louis the XV and his most famous mistresses. I like historical fiction, and it promised scandal and melodrama in equal measure, which is intriguing in a story from time to time.
In the book, the King is married to his Polish wife. They have a seemingly good relationship, but the King is ready for a fling, so to speak. Enter Louise, the eldest of the five Nesle sisters. Over the next decade, the King falls for not only Louise, but her four sisters as well. What unfolds is more dramatic than an episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians.
08/ 11/ 2016
I’ve wanted to see the Broadway musical Fun Home for ages. Based on the best-selling graphic memoir by Alison Bechdel, Fun Home is narrated by a young girl named Alison at three different ages. We watch as she grows up in a dysfunctional family. Her father is also a central figure in her story. I observed their interactions, remembering instances wherein I too ignored the real issue. Instead, I shut down part of my humanity, the part that reacts and lets me feel something.
So I’m sitting there, watching the story play out. Toward the end, Alison’s mother talks about how she “wasted her days.” Instead of confronting the hard stuff in her life, she buried it in carpools, cleaning and her children.
I’m no stranger to this sort of living; it’s what we all do. I’ve read two of Brené Brown’s books, listened to her TED Talks and heard countless interviews that confirm how we all bury what hurts us. I understand the mother’s choice. I know that it’s normal to hide the parts of ourselves we are ashamed of in tasks. It’s what we do, because staying busy and blind is easier than actually dealing with the real shit.
Confrontation is hard. We avoid it, we compromise to a point that it’s detrimental to ourselves. We lie and get good at it, comfortable living without truth.
I typed this into my iPhone’s notepad after the show. While it’s more of a stream of consciousness, I wanted to share it because it’s honest… and something that will perhaps hold me accountable.
07/ 17/ 2016
If you’re interested in psychological thrillers then you should consider reading the second book on my summer reading list, Luckiest Girl Alive by Jessica Knoll.
In chapter 1 we meet Ani, a girl many New York women would envy. She’s beautiful, has a dream job and is soon to marry a great catch. We quickly learn that Ani has a past. While attending an elite preparatory school, Ani suffered a startling and tragic event. It left her damaged, eager to escape her past. She certainly has escaped it too, that is until she agrees to go back home to be part of a documentary. Then we slowly learn the truth.
06/ 28/ 2016
I hadn’t heard of this book until graduate school—I know, right?! It’s a classic! Regardless, a professor recommended that I read it and I committed the title to memory, intending to read it one day.
Their Eyes Were Watching God was the first book on my 2016 Summer Reading List. Written by the brilliant Zora Neale Hurston, the novel follows the journey of Janie Crawford. In chapter 1, she returns home to a small town in Central Florida called Eatonville after being gone for years. She then recounts the journey of her life, remarking on her personal growth and three marriages.
