Monthly Archives: August 2010

Peace Like a River: don't hesitate, just read it

I just finished this book about 10 seconds ago, and immediately opened a Word document to begin reviewing it and trying to bring maximum readership its way.

As I write, I still have shivers running up and down my spine and am holding back tears. If I weren’t sitting in the office right now, I would have burst into tears (tears of the best kind) long ago. There’s nothing like a quiet office environment to discourage the loud wailing.

One of my co-workers recommended this book to me last fall, as we were chatting it up at a trade show. Trade shows can be very long . . . with a lot of standing around on your best behavior. Early on we discovered a mutual affinity for reading, and let me say, he has incredible taste. On a sidenote, he was also responsible for getting me started on Gail Tsukiyama, whose books I need to review asap. At one point, he said “You need to read ‘Peace Like a River’ by Leif Enger.” I smiled politely. It sounded like a devotional book, or maybe something about a kid and a dog who explore the woods together or go fishing or something, and then the dog saves his life from some kind of freak barn fire accident. So I didn’t read it until I saw him again this summer  and he asked (paraphrase) “So have you read ‘Peace Like a River’ yet? Because it’s one of my favorite books of all time.” Guiltily, I said I would immediately request it at the library. I picked it up about 2 weeks later and finally opened it this week.

Let me tell you, this book has catapulted to the top of my “favorite books of all time” list from the moment I hit about the 5th chapter. The story is written in the first person, by an older man recalling a particular time in his childhood. Set in the ‘60s against the backdrop of the American West, the story follows a family through loss, love, and adventure. It’s a riveting story with an FBI chase, an unexpected love story, and a bandit style hideout. As they head out West in an Airstream trailer, the kid’s Dad explains why he’s going in these words: “I have the substance of things hoped for. I have the anticipation of things unseen.” I love that quote. Love it, love it, love it. His style feels like a combination of Willa Cather in “My Antonia” and Wendell Berry, both of whom I absolutely adore and will soon be reviewing: it’s simple, pure, and beautiful in both language and substance. Leif Enger displays a great understanding of human nature, and a great compassion for it as well. There is a depth of wisdom in his words that over and over again made the gooseflesh just creep down my arms. He gets to the very heart of things, to the hidden essence that we don’t see because it’s right in front of us. In his story, the miraculous and the ordinary walk together, and the Big and Little pictures come into the same frame.

The ending takes the tragic and makes it achingly beautiful, and is very similar to the conclusion of “The Last Battle,” the final book in the Chronicles of Narnia. The character of the father will challenge you to see beyond what’s visible by looking at reality with the eyes of your heart. This is not just a poetic, well-written masterpiece, but a book that encourages the very soul.

I would bribe you to read this, but I’ve already blown our grocery budget on Thai delivery, so it’s a no-go. So please pretend you received the bribe and request it at your library immediately.

Thanks to my library, I already have his second novel in hand and will be starting it tonight.

*Update: second book, not so good . . . but Peace Like a River is so good that not only did my non-fiction-reading husband love it, but he wants us to purchase the book and can’t wait to read it again. Do you realize how much this says about this book? It’s huge, folks, it’s huge.

The candy collection

Hello everyone! I have just returned from a fantastic trip to the North Woods. I have stories, meditations, and recipes galore just waiting to be slammed into post after post. While I wrap my mind around the blogging material I have come home with and try to wrestle it into compact and coherent little bites, I present you with this small foray into my past and my twisted little 7-year-old brain. Because I know everyone’s interested in all the little quirks and squiggledy-diggledies that were zipping around in my grey matter 20 years ago. Um, right?

I’ve already talked about how I’m a huge delayed gratification girl. I’d like to delve into the roots of this problem as part of my ongoing blog-therapy. One of the astounding examples of this behavior in my youth was the candy collection I kept in my room.

When I was 7, we lived in Madrid. In school, when a kid’s birthday rolled around it was customary for him/her to bring a brimming bag of candy for each classmate. Given the number of kids in my 2nd grade class, there was candy flowing all year long, baby. My parents had never really bought us candy. In fact, we weren’t even allowed to eat any candy until we were school age (with minor exceptions, one photographed below), so this was a big treat for me–so big that I couldn’t bear the thought of just eating the candy outright, because then it would be gone. So I saved it. I had a blue tray and a pink tray that stacked on top of each other, and distributed all my candy between the two. As the year progressed, my stash of candy got bigger and bigger. And this is the crux of the story: I never ate a single piece. I’m sure my dentist was thankful that this psychological aberration played to his advantage, but what does it say about the kind of person that I am??

At some point in the future, it all had to be thrown away—the marshmallows (‘jamones’) had become leathery, shriveled pink things; the chips were stale, the hard candies had melted and become one with their cellophane wrappings, etc.

Years later, it was brought to my attention that 2 certain young girls had been stealing from my stash all along. If I had discovered them back in the day, I don’t know what kind of hellfire I would have raised, but now that I am a more well-seasoned individual, I can say I’m just glad that it didn’t all go to waste. Plus, look at how cute they were, the little offenders.

The guilty parties on either side of the candy collector, circa 1989

Offender #2 indulging in her love of candy

In fact, searching for evidence to explain the obsessive saving habits I engaged in, I came across this picture that illustrates it perfectly. Heidi is in the forefront, having already gulped down half her candy. In fact, she is in mid-chew. Erica is proudly displaying the big bite she took out of her candy . . .

A photograph of the psychological aberration

. . . and I’m in the background, carefully holding the candy between my teeth without taking a bite. As soon as that picture was taken, you’d better believe I whisked that chocolate out of my mouth and put it in my sock drawer for perpetuity. In fact, I should check my sock-drawer for its fossil–the Field Museum might be interested. And donations to museums are tax-deductible, right?

Now I’m trying to undo years and years of hard-wired patterns so that I can enjoy things as they come. If I had just learned this lesson 20 years ago, I can’t imagine how different my life would have been. Like, for one thing, my teeth would have rotted out of my head, which in turn would have caused my wedding pictures to really suck since I would only have black tooth-stumps lining my grin. And I would have been too hyped on sugar to do my homework, so I would have failed out of school, losing the opportunity to move on to 3rd grade. But I sense we’re getting off track. The gist of the matter is: what good is that pretty dress if I’m saving it for a special occasion that never arrives? What good is that bag of frozen shrimp if I’m saving it for a special dinner party that doesn’t happen? Wear the pretty dress! Eat the shrimp! Mark my words: life itself is the special occasion. Every day is a gift that we should be grateful for. Enjoy it now! Don’t let your marshmallows go stale.*

*This is in no way an endorsement of a lack of self-discipline of self-control. Side effects can include but are not limited to: wearing too many pretty dresses, eating untold quantities of shrimp, and overdosing on sugary products. If you experience any of these symptoms, please see your local psychologist, physician, and/or pastor.