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What if there was a book that spoke honestly about the experiences of pregnancy and childbirth and, more importantly, treated these experiences as natural events rather than listing all the possible things to be feared? Better yet, what if there was a book that did all those things and spoke of the spiritual aspects of pregnancy and children, in a gentle and non-denominational way? Well, a book with all those features and more is available in this book.
Erdrich is of Native American ancestry and a writer by profession. Her background is rich with symbolism and spiritualism and is wonderful at weaving her story into the passage of seasons. At times I felt I was really looking through her eyes in the room where she wrote, looking out at a large picture window in her remote rural home. She saw the lives of various wildlife, from all types of birds to deer to wild dogs, intertwine with the passage of time from the beginnings of her pregnancy through the first year of her daughter's life. This book seems to be very realistic primarily because it does not compartmentalize pregnancy or infancy; Erdrich does not shy away from concurrent events in her life including changes in relationship with her husband, observations of nature, memories from her own childhood and recipes she craves during pregnancy or for their nurturing powers.
In more popular baby manual-type books, the subjects of actual labor, sleep deprivation, nurturing "instincts," and patience are sometimes glossed-over or described in such a way to possibly make a parent feel guilty for not automatically possessing certain qualities. This is yet another way that Erdrich's book masterfully succeeds as she lovingly and with understanding tackles these and other important subjects. She describes with humor and passion of a "no-sleep week" by stating how she wanted to call 911 Emergency because her baby wouldn't sleep. She describes the situation: "It happens to be a long crying bout, nothing wrong physically, just growth, maybe teeth. Why knows? Sometimes babies just cry and cry... in my office, with her in the crib next to the desk, I break through a level of sleep-deprived frustration so intense I think I'll burst, into a dimension of surprising calm," (71).
Erdrich speaks of the "tender and grueling task of rearing a newborn," (6) with such a fullness and richness of spirit that I cannot help but be moved by her descriptions. I highly recommend this book not only to anyone personally considering parenting but also to educators and anyone interested in the mutual development of a parent and an infant. I think it could also serve as an excellent supplement for all students in any Infancy and Child Development course. The best summary for her book is by Erdrich herself. In the introduction she states: "These pages are a personal search and an extended wondering at life's complexity. This is a book of conflict, a book of babyhood, a book about luck, cats, a writing life, wild places in the world, and my husband's cooking. It is a book about he vitality between mothers and infants, that passionate bond into which we pour the direct expression of our being," (5).
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The present book came as a revelation. How much more meaningful and exciting these 'letters' become when, instead of being treated as letters they are treated as poems. The range of effects generated by the simple procedure of respecting ED's autographs is amazing.
Editors Hart and Smith are to be congratulated. But one wonders why it has taken Dickinson scholars so long to start treating her drafts with the respect they deserve? One also wonders just how much poetry may be lurking unrecognized in the various editions of regularized letters we have been given? And finally one wonders when we are going to be given an unregularized Complete Poems? Would anyone, for example, seriously think of destroying William Carlos Williams' lineation and printing his work as straight prose or in conventional stanza form? Of course not. Then why should it be considered acceptable to distort the forms and rhythms of a vastly more important writer?
Dear Ellen Louise Hart and Martha Nell Smith - You've shown us what can be done, have done it extremely well, and we love it! In fact, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts! So how about an unregularized COMPLETE POEMS? Please?
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In a scrapbook of prose--written, it appears, in fits and spurts when the muse allowed it--Dennis "recalls emotions...images" from her first trek at three years to the local store for jawbreakers to morning walks in the woods ("I like this kind of grey suspended morning. It will be, I think, a soft washed-out day"). Snippets of memory come alive in Dennis's vivid words--sticky baby fingers clutching a shaggy dog, fragrant New England foliage, fading images of a father seldom seen due to work and war. This Sandy Dennis, not necessarily the Sandy Dennis we see flickering in a grainy black-and-white film, is the one we are meant to remember.
On screen, Sandy Dennis was powerful, and that power transfers beautifully to her own life. A Personal Memoir is uniquely poetic, and a very thoughtful read.
In a praiseworthy departure from the usual movie star memoir Ms. Dennis does not focus on her professional achievements, but rather on personal aspects of her childhood and offstage adult life.
Few who saw her as the frightened foil for Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton in the film "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf," would envision the gallant courage with which she faced the ovarian cancer that took her life in 1992.
Few who saw her confident Tony Award winning performance in "A Thousand Clowns" would recognize the vulnerable unpretentious woman who usually wore no make-up, "gave her hair passing attention at best," and happily shared her roof with over forty homeless cats.
The vicissitudes of housing two score tabbies and toms were viewed with robust good nature. "Last year the condenser in the refrigerator burned up," Ms. Dennis writes. "The repairman discovered abnormal amounts of cat hair which had collected and caught fire. Exclamations of horror and surprise seemed pointless. The man was standing in a kitchen filled with some thirty very interested cats and they weren't bald." This memoir, the personal thoughts of a very private person, were found after her death. Handwritten on sheets of yellow legal-size paper, they lined the bottom of a filing cabinet in her home office. Characteristically unassuming, she may not have considered herself a writer. She is a delightfully gifted one.
Ms. Dennis reminisces about a man she loved, her family, her friends, her animals, and her garden with a poet's tenderness. Her observations of our world spring from a generous soul.
Describing the potency of time, an intensity of light, "painted sticks of sunshine," as she is dying, she writes, "My soft orange glass-shaded lamp slips me into twilight and then darkness. How I love." She did, indeed.
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This is a good emotional read of the effects of war, even if the war was the good war.
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It is about three elderly women who have a dark secret they were all involved in from the past. It takes place in Georgia and involves racism, murder, homosexuality, poor people, rich people, single mothers....... Once you start reading you won't want to put it down until the final surprise ending.
In spite of the fact these three ladies are involved in something as horrible as murder, you like them. There is also the young Laurel, 20 something, tough and hurt badly by her alcholic mother, who begins to realize these three old ladies have information that will set her free from her past.
Get it, read it, you won't regret it.
The translation, too, by Louise and Aylmer Maude, is exquisite. It is done with such authority that it feels spontaneous and seamless, as if one is reading the actual words of Tolstoy, rather than those of some lesser intermediary. The Maudes are by far my favorite translators of Tolstoy.
The book is well done in every respect. I love everything about it -- right down to the bright whiteness of the pages; the paper quality is very good.
I recommend this book highly. It is one of my most prized volumes.
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The layout and language are so clear and reader-friendly, and the material so interesting that I found it hard to put the book down. However, I'd have to advise readers not to try to take in too much at a time.
The few inaccuracies in some of the details didn't detract from the message or the overall quality. There is one slightly surprising omission, namely the absence of any discussion of the Conconi test for aerobic performance. Nevertheless, the sections on training are excellent; the ones on nutrition are even better.