the help

I feel like I need to start with a list of facts. I first read this book a year ago. I have a terrible memory, so I felt like I needed to read it again and I just finished it. I haven't seen the movie yet. And I recently read a couple of articles about the story.

I read the articles before I reread the book. The articles suggested that the story made the white person the crux of the changes. That, not blatantly, but subtly, many movies and books set in the era of civil rights in the south suggest that whites were necessary for the advancement of civil rights.

So I started off with a bit of a bias. Maybe I should have reacted differently to the book the first time I read it? Maybe I was reading from my white perspective and missing the way the story was slanted?

But I changed my mind.

Yes, Skeeter is white. Yes, without her interactions with Elaine Stein in New York, there would not have been a book. Yes, Skeeter starts off with only her own interests in mind. She wants a job in the publishing industry. This seems like an idea a New York publisher likes. She went after it. For herself. Even Minnie bemoans the fact that a white woman is the driving force behind this book.

But that was a different Skeeter than the one that emerged. Aren't we all thankful we've shed our slightly-too-small skins and grown into different and better people? Isn't Aibileen as much the author of the book as Skeeter?

I also started the book thinking, what do I have in common with these women? In our other selections, I've felt that, despite the differences in age, culture, experience, I could quickly connect with something I saw in the female characters. Friendship, motherhood, fear of aging.

At first, I couldn't find that. I didn't grow up in the South. I was neither a maid nor had a maid. The Civil Rights movement has always been a history topic to me. I've never had to call up the kind of courage it took to go against such a strong set of cultural norms. 

And then I read: Wasn't that what the point of the book? For women to realize, We are just two people. Not that much separates us. Not nearly as much as I'd thought.

Isn't that the point for not just women, but people? To find our commonality. To step over lines and embrace the image of Christ we find in everyone?

There are so many things in this book we could talk about. I'd love you to all come over and have a cup of coffee while the kids play. We could fill hours, I expect.

One last thing from me, and then I can't wait to hear what you have to say.

Minnie reflects at one point on all the ways that the cause of civil rights is being taken up around her. She knows that she could participate in sit-ins or marches or boycotts. But she purposefully chooses to tell her story as her act of civil rights. Because, she says, what is important to her is how her daughters are going to be treated by white women.

It's so easy for me to look around at the good other people are doing and then feel guilty about not doing those things too. But the truth is, it's a powerful thing to know yourself. To know what is important to you and then do something about that. Guilt separates us from other people because it leads to resentment and jealousy. But to be confident in what we do and what we value, it seems like that frees us to encourage.

What do you want to talk about?

Pools and Book Talk

Today, most of the girls from my book group met for lunch and swimming with our kids.  And to discuss our book.  The friend's house we met at is indescribably beautiful and simply should be featured in some sort of magazine.  SO great to spend a hot afternoon with girlfriends and their kids around a pool. I love it. No guys around, just girl talk and swimming without self-consciousness and laughing at the kids' antics.

The book we discussed? The Help. We decided we are all going to make it a girls' night out and see the movie as well. And guess what? Amanda will be posting our book discussion the first Friday in September on ... The Help.   You can read it, listen to it, and  *gasp* watch the movie?! I don't know if that counts....I'll leave that to Amanda to decide;)

Hope you are keeping cool and enjoying your summer.

The Pull of the Moon

Maybe you noticed this wasn't up when it was supposed to be? Um, I totally forgot. And then I went camping. I'm so sorry! I guess on the bright side, it's nice to have a summer where the days run together and I never know what the date is?

Well, here it is. Better late than never?

Nan is going through some changes. Changes that have happened over time. Changes that have been coming for a while. Changes that ultimately cause her to "run away," as she puts it. She leaves on a whim. She comes across a journal, buys it, and leaves the next morning on a cross-country journey.

There are things about Nan and I that are clearly different. She is in a different stage of life. Her child is grown. She's in a different income bracket. She's in a different generation. She's experiencing physical changes that I haven't yet.

But those differences aren't what I noticed most about Nan. What resonated with me in her were the ways that we were the same. 

Nan wants to be seen. She wants validation. She wants her youth to stick around. She's a mother who loves mightily, but she has regrets about her parenting. She is touched by beauty and wants to share it with those around her. She is a wife. She isn't that great at dealing with change. She is moved by ordinary moments in her life and remembers them vividly.

Change was definitely a predominant theme in this work. Dealing with change. The inevitability of change. I am, like Nan, not a person who embraces or even likes change. But it's just a part of life. I heard once that all change is loss, even changes that are good. No matter what the change, something is left behind. And in order to fully move on, you have to mourn that loss, whatever it was.

Nan talks about aging as a punishment. A crime, even. What have we done that we deserve this loss of our youth, our looks, our figures?

But then, Nan says something that, in my mind, spun the perspective right around. "I am every age I ever was and I will always be." Aging, rather than a continual act of loss, can be seen as a continual gain. I am the five-year-old me and the thirteen-year-old me and the twenty-six-year-old me and the thirty-four-year-old me. And I'll still be all those mes when I'm the fifty-year-old me.

Eugenie, sitting on the porch of her farmhouse, shelling peas, left behind by all those she knew and loved in her youth and even middle age, offers Nan a concise conclusion. The final word that Nan has discovered on her own, but maybe hasn't been able to summarize. Life is about the people. About sharing experiences. About embracing the change that is inevitable in life so that it doesn't kill you. She validates Nan's experiences of being moved to tears by ordinary beauty. She gives Nan a picture of the beauty of aging. The loveliness in letting go.

Their Eyes Were Watching God

"Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. For some they come in with the tide. For others they sail forever on the horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his eyes away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time. That is the life of men.

Now, women forget all those things they don't want to remember, and remember everything they don't want to forget. The dream is the truth. Then they act and do things accordingly."

I must admit that the first time I ever heard the story of Janie Starks, it was through the lens created by Oprah in the movie.  I immediately identified with the dreamer, the survivor and eventually the rebirth of a woman.  

Can we also have a moment of silence for the steaminess of Tea Cake in the movie?

Okay.  Now that we have objectified a man on a blog exploring Christian Feminism, we can move on.

When I read the first paragraph, I immediately decided that this would be a book to be savored.  I read it slower than any book I have ever loved.  As a woman who has endured abuse from the men in her life, Their Eyes spoke to me on so many levels.  I can relate to a jar tumbling off of the shelf and shattering.  When Joe Starks first layed his hands on Janie, his image was forever changed.  Can you relate to that experience?

Maya Angelou has been quoted to say, "When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time."

The moment Joe Starks is revealed, is the moment that Janie burrows into herself and becomes a" rut in the road".  Reading those words caused a tremor in my chin.  The tears came so easily.  A woman abused quickly becomes less and less of herself.  Even in normal relationships, women have a tendency of forgetting to care for themselves.  Why do we forget our value?  Why do we forget that the knowledge of our worth will bolster what we are able to give to the world?

Can you relate to that feeling of hiding a part of yourself to survive?  I feel as women we are more likely to go inward to avoid confrontation and to enhance our chances of survival.  The only problem with that is the time it takes to dig our living selves out of the graveyard.

When Joe is laying in his death bed and cannot release his control over Janie, I was enraptured.  What causes a man to need to control a woman beyond the need to love her?  If love cannot be taken but only give, where does that idea come from? How can a man ever experience "true love" if he will not love a woman as she is living fully?

I love when Janie says that the grieving should last only as long as the grief does.  This leads me to think of how often we mold our reactions and our behavior around the cast set by our society.  We feel guilty if we don't cry at our child's kindergarten performance and bad if we do.

I love that it took Janie no time at all to release her hair, to lay in the grass, to laugh and to re-bloom. It seems like when Tea Cake entered her life, she was actively allowing herself to enjoy life.  She was choosing what felt right and good in her own eyes.

What did you think of all of the loose lipped gossipers in this story?  I found it interesting that even in a book written about a woman in the early 1900's, women were another woman's harshest critics.  There truly is nothing new under the sun.  What do you think motivates such judgement and harsh criticism in women towards other women?

My opinion is that those not living their fullest life will judge out of jealousy.  In an effort to make their life feel fuller. ....Kind of like a push up bra.  I know. I wear one.  I nursed. Three times. lol

What about Janie's relationship to Tea Cake and the fact that eventually, he smacked her too?  Why didn't his jar fall off the shelf?  Mine kind of did when I read this passage.  Their relationship was not perfect and neither was Tea Cake or Janie, but they loved each other wildly and they lived completely.  I love that part of the story.  Why did Zora (we are on a first name basis now) decide to throw in that slap?

After Janie kills Tea Cake to save herself from his rabid rage she goes back to Eatonville.  She is subject to the disdain and judgement of her community.  I find this to be so courageous.  She is still choosing to be who she is, where she is.

I think that these words are defining of the story and a call to all women.

"you got tuh go there tuh know there...Two things everybody got tuh do fuh theyselves. They got tuh go tuh God, and they got tuh find out about livin' fuh theyselves."

And finally,

"So much of life in its meshes! She called in her soul to come and see."

Feel free to chime in on the loads of questions above or give an insight about what touched your heart the most reading this book.   I only chose portions of the book that spoke to me.  Their Eyes Were Watching God will remain one of my favorites.  I read it ever so slowly because the lessons are clear and potent for a woman like me.

Peace and Grace,

Tashmica :)

book number one

So here it is. A first attempt. We’ll see how it goes.

Should I lay some groundwork? I’m not going to get my feelings hurt. Disagreeing, different points of view, new ideas, I’m all for all of them. If you don’t like a book, I’d love to hear why. So don’t be shy! We can disagree and be nice, right?!

I’m not exactly sure how to approach the post, so I’ll just try this first off. Thoughts. Questions. Ponderings. Feedback on format is appreciated, too.

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See. A friend handed it off to me. A friend who knows my leeriness regarding contemporary authors. (Thankfully, I have several friends working to remedy that in me.)

One thing that struck me about this book is how I related to it. I have no experience with the culture of China in the 1800s. I’ve never had my feet bound. I’ve never been viewed as a worthless branch of a family tree. But I have been a friend. I’ve had friends. There are experiences of women that transcend culture. Friendship is one of them.

The foot binding was a tough thing to read. I haven’t read a lot of feminist theory or writing, but I’m sure there are lots of ideas about foot binding and the message it sent to women in a culture. Maybe I was just responding to the act with my western sensibilities, but I felt like that message of visible bondage of women that foot binding implied was evident in a lot of the book. The picture, as Lily was fleeing with Snow Flower and her husband, of the men carrying their mothers, pushing their wives in carts. Women who are unable to even leave their homes without assistance. Women who's bones break after walking too far. Women who die because they lose their balance walking down a mountain. Talk about a literal manifestation of forced submission. What were your thoughts about the foot binding? Both the practice literally as it was described in the book and the metaphor? The act of “mother love” that the women called upon to inflict disfiguration upon their daughters?

How about the value women possessed as opposed with their responsibility? Over and over again, women, daughters, are talked about as nothing. Their only value being in the sons they can produce. And then the amazing amount of cultural responsibility they bore for the actual bearing of children. If they didn’t have sons, if the sons were weak, if they miscarried, if they couldn’t have children, it’s all their fault. They’ve done something wrong. The fate of the family lies in the wombs of these “worthless” daughters. There are rules dictating how they should conceive and when, rules for what they should eat and do and even think while with child, and then rules for grieving. It kept striking me the amount of credit and/or blame the women got while at the same time being completely devalued as human beings.

The changing of fate. Another theme that came up again and again. Can fate be changed? The answers varied. Lily herself told Snow Flower that they could change the fate of Snow Flower’s daughter, just as Lily had “changed her own fate.” (Only, Lily didn’t really have anything to do with it, did she? She didn’t make her feet what they were. And her feet are the things that changed her life.) Madame Wang works hard to change Snow Flower’s fate and then resigns herself to saying that fate cannot be changed. Lily, at the end of her life, says, “…nor can you change another person’s destiny.” But didn’t she? Didn’t she change the destiny of Snow Flower’s son? And her granddaughter? Is it even necessary to change a destiny? Didn’t Lily change the lives of the women whose autobiographies she wrote? She says, “I wanted them to place a value on their lives, which for the most part were dismal.” Is giving value to a person’s life as important as changing her destiny?

Here’s an old English teacher question for you…does the fact that Lily is the narrator change our perception of the events? The fact that she’s eighty years old, looking back at her life? Does she romanticize memories? Remember herself as more of a villain than she was? Is her telling painted over by the grief and regret she’s borne for forty plus years? Does it even matter? This is one of those that probably either intrigues you or annoys you. What about her background? Her feeling that she was never loved for who she was? How does that play a part in who she becomes?

Lily seems to be at a loss for helping Snow Flower deal with her emotional turmoil. Her grief. Her sadness. Her shame. It seems like Lily wants to help Snow Flower, but she keeps falling back to the rules. To the cultural laws. Is it because she’s cruel? She can’t empathize? Or is it easier? Is legalism a safe place? Black and white are so much neater than the mess of gray?

OK, maybe I’ve asked too many questions. Maybe I’ve written too much. But I can’t wait to hear what you think. About all of it.