Today I went to a funeral. I hated seeing my family so grim and red-eyed. We knew that the end was nearing as the not-getting-better e-mails started to come at a quickening pace, but it didn't make things any less sad. I feel selfish because I'm sad not just for the passing of my family member, but because I know this is just the beginning. I haven't been to many funerals--thankfully!--but this person was of my grandmother's generation-
ish. He was the son of her (much) older brother. I loved him and I'll very much miss his presence, but I'm really worried about my grandparents now.
What has any of this to do with
Confessions of a Closet Catholic by Sarah Darer
Littman? My grandma had a stroke too. The day before Thanksgivings. Almost a year ago. And we thought she'd die. This book made me cry. I hate how I've finally started to
really appreciate my older relatives and now I feel like it's almost too late. Their lives are so RICH with--with things that we hardly relate to now-a-days. My grandmother's family are/were farmers. Now we've entered into a very dark age of commercial farming and their livelihoods are becoming extinct. The "family farm" is dying out as my family is, too.
I loved
Project Mulberry because it highlighted sustainable farming. Things in our recent history have proved that there is SO much HOPE left in this world--but we have to rise to the
occasion. We have to look back on the lives of our grandparents and remind ourselves where we've come from--before Y2K and jelly sandals and video games and the
internet--and
reacquaint ourselves with things that are good and DON'T come from a package shipped overnight.
Farming isn't something uniquely American--but it's what a lot of the United States has its foundation in--and if that foundation becomes plastic, mass-produced, and heartless...what then becomes of what we build on top? I'm not saying that we should go and take back every single commercially owned farm (although that IS I think one of the best things we could do to bring a better quality of life to many (including chickens! cows! and pigs!), create jobs, and remind ourselves that happiness doesn't come out of a tube)...
What I mean to emphasize is the importance of those who have come before us, and I feel grateful that I still have my grandmother around to learn from (although she does tire faster these days)---and that
Confessions is a book like
Bridge to Terebithia that still touches me even though it's "children's literature". Adults should read this stuff!!! Nobody grows out of:
"I wonder if it takes being afraid of someone dying to realize how desperately you want them to always be there," (p.115).
And what about the parts about the mother-daughter talks--and that they both end up feeling like they understand each other more?
I really wish that I could have had this book to read when I was younger--it has true, real heart. I definitely could have identify with someone who feels like an outsider (heck, I sometimes do now!)--and I have a sneaky suspicion that more people feel that way than care to talk about it.
Yet the book does--without being too didactic about it--share some Jewish culture with its readers. (ding! ding! something that we discussed in class!) I noticed some Yiddish words thrown in--and NOT explained. I remember talking about this in class--how sometimes when words are directly translated and repeated, it interrupts the flow of the text, especially for bilingual readers.
I'm (obviously) blown away with what this novel inspires--as well as the warm, welcoming, inclusiveness of the novel. It may deal with someone wrestling with religion, but I don't feel that it turns away non-religious peoples. I don't feel it makes an argument against those who don't follow religion--even though her mother's parents aren't strict about their religion and seem to go for "community rather than spirituality," (p.145) they aren't portrayed as "bad people".
I feel that although this is a long post, there's still so much to talk about...
Anyway, it's a book I definitely recommend.
