PASS 1/3

Referencing the rules outlined in my first post, I'm initiating my first of three passes for the year. I'm currently reading the last of the Stieg Larsson trilogy and it's just proving to be too much for me right now. Plus, Joel and I are reading A Tale of Two Cities, so I'm not slacking! Expect a double post next week, though not of both the books ... if you're confused now, you're in good company.

The Pearl by John Steinbeck ****

Now, you should know this about me first before we get started: John Steinbeck might be my favorite author, so I'm going to be biased. My first experience was with his short story, "The Red Pony" in the sixth grade. At the time, I remember being embarrassed that an assigned book made me cry-I didn't thing assignments were supposed to effect you like that. I was haunted by the endearing bond between the boy and his pony, and the heartbreaking loss of it. In fact, I think it stayed with me so long because it's the first time I remember reading a story where the "hero" didn't make out with everything he always wanted in the end. But everything I've read by him since then has stayed with me in a similar haunting but beautiful way.

"The Pearl" is the fifth of his works I've read. I'm trying to pace myself to no more than one per year so I don't exhaust his library too fast. If there's one word I have for those dabbling in Steinbeck for the first time, it's this: savor. Don't read too fast. Don't be afraid to go back and re-read passages before moving on. "The Pearl" is no different, though I found it more challenging than some of his others to take slowly, because there seemed to be more action in this one. I wanted to pause and re-read his description of the way the light bounced off the early-morning motes in the air on the first few pages. But the fact that those motes were bouncing off a scorpion poised on a rope above the hero's baby ... I couldn't stop reading.

As I read, I couldn't help seeing it in my mind's eye as a silent movie (because language is oddly immaterial in this story). But more important than the visual (which was some stunning cinematography in my brain), was the music. Constant, ever-changing, subtle music. And I wish I knew more about music so I could have composed a fitting score. But instead, I just imagined what it might have sounded like ... and I already can't wait to read it again ... in a few years, of course.

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert ***

I enjoyed this book the way I feel like its author enjoyed a lush Italian dinner during her stay in Rome. The timing was perfect, the writing style went down easy, and I always felt like a nap afterwards. During a stressful time, there are few things you can hope for when you're looking for an escape like a good book.

Recommended to me by a friend, I took my (opposite from everyone else) standard approach to books that also have a movie counterpart: I saw the movie first; enjoyed it. Then read the book and was also able to enjoy it. I almost always find I enjoy the book better than the movie, and in this order, I'm still able to enjoy them for what they are. I don't feel like the movie misses anything, I just feel like the crevasses get filled in nicely - like pouring hot fudge over mounds of firm, rich ice cream. The vanilla by itself would be fine, but the hot fudge just makes it so ... delectable.

Regardless of your movie/book philosophy, I would recommend both to 1) girls, 2) over 30, 3) who have been through or know someone close to them who has been through a divorce, 4) who are looking for an escape. Gilbert basically gets to do what everyone wants to do who goes through a difficult time: leave everything behind and completely reinvent yourself. Her voice is so conversational, I found myself wondering how we weren't already friends in real life. But her experiences are so incredible, I kept forgetting I wasn't reading fiction.

Some of my favorite parts:

• "You were given life; it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight."
• "Letting go, of course, is a scary enterprise for those of us who believe that the world revolves only because it has a handle on the top of it which we personally turn, and that if we were to drop this handle for even a moment, well--that would be the end of the universe. But try dropping it ... watch what happens."
• "Devotion is diligence without assurance. Faith is a way of saying, 'Yes, I pre-accept the terms of the universe and I embrace in advance what I am presently incapable of understanding.' "
• "Prayer is a relationship; half the job is mine. If I want transformation, but can't even be bothered to articulate what, exactly, I'm aiming for, how will it ever occur?"

The one part I couldn't get around (and the reason I don't feel like I can give it 4 stars even though I did really like it) is that I feel like her approach was ultimately selfish, even though she addresses this very issue in the book very articulately. Admittedly, I've never gone through a heart-breaking split on the heels of a messy divorce which happened right before September 11th, after realizing that my entire life wasn't where I wanted it to be. I don't mean to judge or sound harsh. It's just not something I can fully understand. Part of me wonders, Where was all this intention while you were building the life you didn't want? Those were choices you made too - even if the choice was to let someone else make the choice for you.

In the end, this tale of self-discovery is a wonderful read, it would just be a difficult reality despite the happy ending. And, since it's a non-fiction all those hypotheticals get thrown out the window.