Top 10 Tuesday: Favorite Old Movies

Tags

classic movies, movies, old films, top 10

My daughter and I are watching The Wonder Years. It makes me nostalgic. I didn’t grow up in the 70s, I’m an 80’s baby. But I grew up watching some great film classics that I would watch again and again. 

These are in no particular order, and this is by no means a comprehensive list because I’m sure I’ll think of at least 20 more when I finish this post.

10. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Paul Newman and Elizabeth Taylor. Need I say more? Except maybe that it’s based on a Tennessee Williams play. 

The family drama is palpable throughout this movie. It resonates with me in many ways. People trying desperately to come to terms with their relationships. With themselves. 

Did I mention Paul Newman? I love that man. 

9. The Rainmaker

Humor and a flawless performance by Katherine Hepburn. Burt Lancaster, larger than life. These two steal every scene they’re in and Hepburn’s monologue about the kind of man she wants brings me to tears every time.

I want him to be able to tell me who he is, and tell me who I am, too. I want to do things for him. All kinds of things and we never have to say “thank you” because “thank you” is our whole life together. 

I’ve always wanted to see it performed on stage. 

8. The Heiress

Olivia De Havilland and Montgomery Clift. I didn’t discover Clift until I was older, but God, what an actor. This movie has one of the best “in your face” endings of all time. I get chills every time I watch it.

7. To Kill a Mockingbird

It’s my favorite book of all time, and one of those rare instances where the film did the book poetic justice. 

I’m perpetually in love with Gregory Peck and his performance as Atticus Finch. 

This movie was so beyond its time in terms of subject matter. Socially conscious with some of the best juvinelle performances by young actors that I’ve ever seen.

6. John Wayne

Some actors are so much a part of my nostalgia, I can’t pick just one of their movies to share. I grew up on a lot of John Wayne. Between my Dad, my Pawpaw, and my male cousins, I was destined to love him or hate him.

I love him. 

My favorites include:

True Grit

The Cowboys

Rooster Cogburn

North to Alaska

Cahill, U.S. Marshall

His one liners are part of my vocabulary forever. His heroic persona one that I hold with great affection.

5. Yankee Doodle Dandy

Most years, without fail, my family watched this movie every Independence Day. 

I know nearly every line, every song, by heart. 

4. Harvey

I could probably do an entire post on Jimmy Stewart, another of my all time favorite actors. This is a quirky little film that is chock full of humor and mystery. A grown man with an imaginary friend that happens to be a 6 foot white rabbit?

I don’t have a copy of this one. I need to get it. I haven’t seen it in years.

3. Musicals

Oh man do I love musicals. Since I couldn’t pick just one here either, here’s another list of some of my favorites:

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

Oklahoma

Calamity Jane

The Unsinkable Molly Brown

They don’t make musicals like they used to. La La Land came as close as anything I’ve seen since my childhood as being something that I would include as part of a list of true musical, artistic masterpieces.

2. You Can’t Take it With You

I’ve always loved Jean Arthur. She was in several movies that I enjoyed. This one is my favorite of hers and it also stars, you guessed it, Jimmy Stewart.

This is a hilarious Frank Capra film that, like all of his movies, leaves you with the warm fuzzies. I like watching movies that make me feel like that. Sometimes you just need to see a happy ending. Even if it’s cheesy, or unrealistic. Life is hard enough without everything being so harsh. And speaking of life…..

1. It’s a Wonderful Life

Hey, so I’m in love with Jimmy Stewart. Get over it. 

I relate to George Bailey. I know what it’s like to have dreams and then life just sort of takes over and before you know it you’ve got a family and a mortgage and are put in situations that try to force you to compromise. 

And it’s tempting to give in. Or give up. 

But George is reminded of the impact his life has had on others. That though his dreams may not have come to pass, his life is and has been a gift. To others. To himself. 

So he chooses to live. He chooses thankfulness. 

It’s a beautiful story. 

I love movies and don’t get to watch them as much as I’d like. Not reruns like these, anyway. But I might have to treat myself to a few Amazon purchases. I listed several that I don’t have that I’d love for Reagan to see. Would love to hear about some of your favorite movie classics in the comments!

When Good Men (and women) Fall

Tags

Christianity, Coach Freeze, failure, football, forgiveness, grace, love, Ole Miss, SEC, weakness

Men (and women) fall from grace every day. Every hour. Every minute. The flesh is weak.

Ask anyone I know and they’ll tell you that I don’t give a hoot about college football. SEC or any other conference. There is MSU memorabilia scattered throughout my house, but it’s my husband’s, not mine. 

I claim no allegiance. To a school. To a coach. To a player. I’m just an observer of the entire scene that surrounds college athletics and its superfans. 

And here’s what I observe: 

The coaches and players of the SEC take on an almost rock star status among those that love the conference and their team with passion and fervor. And I might be about to commit southern heresy here, but I’m going to say it anyway:

It’s just a game. They’re just men. All of them. Coaches. Players. They are all fallible human beings with struggles and corruptable hearts. Just like you. Just like me. Just like everyone else on planet Earth.

I’ve seen good men (and women) fall. It’s not pretty. If we’ve built them up in our minds at all, it can be an uncomfortable, painful thing to witness. 

First, we think about how much they’ve disappointed us. Hurt other people. We call them selfish, hypocrites. We cast our stones either publicly or privately, in the recesses of our own hearts and minds.

I hurt for Coach Freeze’s family. Their pain and humiliation is on a public stage that isn’t fair for them to have to navigate. But I’ll tell you someone else that I hurt for: the man himself.

I have experienced my own shame. Disappointed others that I love more than life. Rejected all that I knew and believed about a God that I tried to serve for something that satisfied my own selfish desires. And there is no excuse for it. But the flesh is weak.

I don’t hurt for the legions of Ole Miss fans. Not because I wish them ill, but because the world of football is so ridiculously minute compared to what is happening to this man and his family.

I’ve seen people talk about how much this coach was paid. All of his accomplishments during his time with the University. And it’s true. The man seemingly had everything going for him. He spoke publicly and willingly about his Christian faith. And I’m going to choose to believe that he was sincere about it. Not because of his words, but because from what I know about his actions outside the public eye. He does his best to live his faith. But the flesh is weak.

Truthfully, it’s on those mountaintops of life when we might actually be more susceptible to falling from grace. Because it seems, there, that nothing can touch us. 

I wonder, as I often do, what was going on with the man and his family, behind the scenes. What drove him to his deceit. There is much that we will never know. And rightly so, because it’s none of our business. 

Granted, I’m sure I’d probably have stronger feelings if he was coaching my son. But these are not children. These are young men. Impressionable still? Of course. But better for them to see that even our heroes make mistakes than for them to spend a lifetime pursuing perfection that doesn’t exist. In any of us. For any of us. There might be a better lesson in this whole situation that could teach these players more than anything their coach could have taught them on the field. 

The pain we inflict upon ourselves and others with the choices we make leaves a mark, yes. Scars will be left on Coach Freeze’s heart and the hearts of his wife and children forever. He failed them. He failed himself. And I cannot help but feel deep compassion for them all. 

But if he is willing, if his family is willing, redemption can be found. 

Maybe not in the public eye, but if that’s all they care about, then it will never come anyway. 

Personal redemption is what I speak of. A chance for pain and grieving to be turned into something strong and beautiful. 

Nothing about it will be easy. It will require consistent and steady applications of grace, forgiveness, and the understanding that, yes, no matter who you are, the flesh is weak. 

I have no envy of the road the Freeze family is walking. Its curves and potholes and detours are familiar to me. 

I don’t know the man or his family. But I know pain. One of the great equalizers in this life. And love Ole Miss or hate Ole Miss, college allegiance doesn’t matter. 

What matters in the response. The response of the Coach, owning and accepting his mistakes. The response of his family, letting it mold and perfect their faith in one way or another. And our response, it matters too. Maybe not to this family, but our response to others when they fall matters infinitely, to their hearts and our own. 

If you call yourself a Christian, our first duty is that of love. Whether it’s a public figure you admire and respect or someone in your personal life. The response should be the same. Love. 

People disappoint us every day. Can we extend grace? The flesh, after all, is weak. Isn’t it much easier to cast our stones? 

Good men (and women) fall from grace every day. It’s our job, our responsibility as Christians, to help them back up. Remind them of the endless grace that is free and abundant to all. 

True, it’s easier said than done. I know this. But our own integrity as Christians who claim to believe in Love, grace, forgiveness, and the power of redemption demands it of us. Even when, especially when, it’s hard.

After all, you never know when you might need these things too. And my guess is, you, as I, need them every day.

Top 10 Thursday: Reasons Summertime in the South is Crappy

Tags

heat, humidity, humor, south, summer

You thought I forgot about this week’s top 10, didn’t you?

Well, honestly, I did. Completely. My world has been a sea of bank-related madness for about the last 2-3 weeks. And I never forget about top 10 Tuesday, but I really did. When Reagan mentioned it, my first thought was, “When was Tuesday?” Because it’s been Monday. All week.

Because I forgot, because it bums me out that I forgot, and because I’m in foul humor anyway, I’m going to channel it into a post about what I absolutely LOATHE about living in the deep south during the summer months: you know, April – October.

In all actuality, we scathed by with scarcely a bit of real heat until this past week. It’s been downright pleasant in the evenings and mornings, but when the summer decided to show up, she arrived with an attitude. 

10. The Humidity 

I can tolerate heat. But when the humidity starts rising and then stays at 100%, all the time, for weeks…..I become a bit like Bruce Banner. 

There is rarely a breeze, and were it not for the occasional cotton shower or the abundance of trees, I’m pretty sure the entire state of Mississippi would implode. Just merge into one hot mess of a water bubble and then burst! 

9. The Bugs

Yeah, yeah. I know. The mosquitos are bigger in Texas. Whoopty doo. We have skeeters, gnats, flies, and horseflies for added fun. Bug zappers are the best invention since pockets on pants. I’m getting one this year. (I say that every year.)

8. The Crazies 

Say what you want, but heat drives weird and obnoxious people from their homes in droves into public places to buy beer, or just find a store with air conditioning. 

The heat exacerbates the already ignorant, and crime actually increases in the summer months. It actually drives people to insanity.

7. The Appearance

Try as I may to contain all my flesh into a respectable looking ensemble before going to work, there is no way to win the battle of dressing for the summertime if you’re…ahem…curvy. There is a need for spanx, but it’s too damn hot to wear them. 

I want to wear shorts, but used to be overly self-conscious about how I looked in them. I refuse to wear sleeveless clothing without some type of cover over my arm flab. Yeah, I could work out and tone that shit up, but I’ve been working some 10 hour days and I’m doing good to not be one of the crazies on the 5 o’clock news. 

I give it my best effort to look presentable at least half the day, before I’ve sweated off every bit of my Merle Norman, and call it a victory if I don’t emit an unpleasant odor by the end of the day. 

And my hair? Hahahahahahaha….oh don’t even get me started.

6. The Power Bill

It’s highway robbery. Especially when cold air is a necessity for a good night’s sleep. But whatever. I’ll work a 2nd job if it means coming home to a cool house. 

5. The Vacations

Everyone is taking one. Except me. Because I went to college when I was 30 so I have no money. We don’t borrow money to travel. So we staycation and thank God we have jobs that afford us at least SOME time off. Even if we’re too busy to take it.

4. Cooking

Fresh vegetables aside, I have no desire whatsoever to cook in the summertime. It’s just too hot to turn on the stove. We eat a lot of tomato sandwiches. I’m not complaining about that in the least, but it is a pain not to feel like you’ve got other options that won’t make your kitchen feel like the bowels of hell.

3. Death

The flowers that make it to this point of the year are looking like most humans feel. Verklempt. We all want to die. And pray that heaven is a pleasant 68 degrees.

2. Bugs 

I hate them so much, I felt they were worth a second mention

1. The Attitudes

Heat just seems to put everyone in more of a bad humor. I’ve had more people than usual come by my office, upset, complaining about the unfair hand life has dealt them. And, due to the heat, I’m not in the best mood myself. I display a much thicker skin and lack of sympathy simply because the sun has evaporated all of my giveadamn.

So there. That’s pretty much it. I jest….to a point. But truthfully y’all, it’s hot down here. And yes, “it’s hot enough for me.” Don’t ask me that unless you want to get punched in the throat. My crazy is starting to show, and it’s too hot to cover it up right now.

Hillbilly Elegy: A review

Tags

book review, books, Hillbilly Elegy, inspiration, memoirs, overcoming, stories

I love a good memoir. When I was a kid, our library had a fantastic children’s section. In fact, it occupied a whole floor of the building. 

When I was about 7 or 8 years old, I got on this kicker of reading biographies. They were written for kids, mostly about historical people, but I devoured them. 

I have loved to read since my mother taught me to do so when I was 4 years old. But I think it was there, in that little library in Oklahoma, that I fell in love with stories. The ones about real people who lived real lives. 

And, I think it was also there that my world was forever changed by books. 

When a child reads, even if they are stuck in one place for the entirety of their childhood, they understand that the world is so much bigger than whatever piece of earth they occupy.

In Hillbilly Elegy, J.D. Vance recalls his life experiences of growing up in the Rust Belt of America: his mother’s battle with drug addiction, the revolving door of men that came in and out of his life, the poverty, the ignorance of both his own culture and those who claim they can fix it with public policy. 

There are heartbreaking aspects to this memoir across the majority of its pages. But, ultimately, it’s a story of triumph. 

J.D. made it out of Ohio, and out of the cycle of his culture. He served in the Marines, graduated from Yale Law, and is happily married. 

But he is an anomaly. His book explores why he was able to rise above his circumstances and others are not so fortunate.

I gleaned from the book 3 or 4 reasons for this.

First, J.D. had grandparents that were a stable, supportive fixture in his life and a sister that stood by him as well. He mentions this albeit shaky stability throughout the narrative, and the book itself is dedicated to his Mamaw and Papaw. Having at least one constant, stable adult in a child’s life can do so much to combat the damage inflicted upon it by others. 

Secondly, education was emphasized and encouraged to J.D. by everyone closest to him. 

Thirdly, dumb luck, or Divine intervention, whichever you prefer. He even mentions himself that had any single, positive thing he mentions in his story been absent, it might have ended altogether differently. 

But, ultimately, it was his own choices that saved him; J.D.’s ability to decide he wanted a better life. 

It started with the decision to join the military.

The military gave J.D. the order that had been missing in his life and, more or less, taught him about how to actually be an adult. 

J.D. didn’t know the first thing about really being responsible with money, or the everyday things that one needs to do to have a disciplined, ambitious, and successful life. 

Every time the drill instructor screamed at me and I stood proudly; every time I thought I’d fall behind during a run and kept up; every time I learned to do something I thought impossible, like climb the rope, I came a little closer to believing in myself. Psychologists call it “learned helplessness” when a person believes, as I did during my youth, that the choices I made had no effect on the outcomes in my life. From Middletown’s world of small expectations to the constant chaos of our home, life had taught me that I had no control. Mamaw and Papaw had saved me from succumbing entirely to that notion, and the Marine Corps broke new ground. If I had learned helplessness at home, the Marines were teaching me learned willfullness.

The willfullness J.D. learned in the Marine Corps seemed to be the launching pad for his future successes and his ability to mentally rise above where he came from in Hillbilly culture. 

What’s interesting about J.D.’s story is not only that he rose above his childhood circumstances, but that he didn’t abandon his home in the process. Granted, he did put some distance between him and his family at times, but the majority of it was physical distance only. He maintained a close relationship with many of his relatives while actively breaking the cycle of that learned helplessness that surrounded him during his formative years. 

He speaks of having to put more than physical distance between him and his mom at times. Not because of anger, but out of self-preservation. J.D.’s desperation for his mother to finally kick her addictions is all over the pages of his story. From his very early childhood to present day, he has tried, again and again, to help her and love her through it. And he talks about how much he loves her. But he also talks about learning where to draw lines for his own mental health. And that, I’m sure, was a very hard lesson to learn. 

I get the feeling that J.D. has many strong opinions about what will and will not help the culture that he grew up in become a better environment. But he doesn’t speak to those opinions very specifically. In fact, many times he says he isn’t sure what the answers are, only what they are not. 

Public policy can help, but there is no government that can fix these problems for us.

But what about those kids, those “at-risk” kids that come from the same situations, same cycle of poverty as J.D. who don’t have a stable grandparent? Who don’t learn to value education? Whose choices hinge upon just what they’ve seen and experienced, and not what they are encouraged to believe is possible, and not just possible, but possible for them? 

The challenge I got from Hillbilly Elegy is understanding the role that any stable, successful adult can play in shaping the life of someone caught in the perpetual rotation that seems to go along with poverty and some degree of ignorance.

J.D. would tell you, I’m sure, that this is not an easy task. 

Working class whites, especially in places like the Rust Belt, and in the south, have a lot of pride. Many individuals in these areas begin to see a divide in the culture of “haves” and “have nots” from an early age, and it is regurgitated from one generation to the next that the world can’t be trusted and is out to get them, deceive them, and warp them. 

It can be next to impossible to help someone rise above their circumstances, when (1) they don’t see anything wrong with their circumstances and/or (2) they believe you are being condescending.

If I took any issue with this book, it was that J.D. did, in fact, come across with, what translated to me, as some thinly veiled condescension. I don’t believe it was necessarily intentional. I think it comes from exasperation and years of climbing out of the place that could have very well been his undoing as a human being. 

Hillbilly Elegy is a really interesting story. One that provokes a lot of thought, as memoirs will do, about how our own lives are shaped. 

I think back to those days in that library of my youth; reading my stack of books, and how, because of that, I’m writing this post now about a book that I just finished that captivated my attention. A story about a real person who overcame real problems.

Some things never change. Hillbilly Elegy proved that to me in many ways. 

The questions are, what can change, what should change, and how can we be a society that encourages people to be the best versions of themselves that they can be?

The Superpower of Love

Tags

compassion, feminism, film, love, movie review, movies, strength, Wonder Woman

I didn’t roll in until almost 2 a.m. Sunday morning. After fighting a really horrific headache most of the day on Saturday, I finally made good on a promise I made to my girl child: we went to see Wonder Woman.  The 10 p.m. showing. 

I knew this would be a good movie. I wasn’t disappointed. In fact, I was quite unprepared for how inspiring it turned out to be. 

I wrote, some time ago, about how my husband had imparted his love for comic books onto both me and my daughter. The lessons of these stories are profound. I’ve been surprised so many times at just how deep they can be. Wonder Woman, I think, now tops my list as the best comic book story I’ve ever seen brought to life on the big screen. And I’ve seen a lot of them.

The movie stars a female lead, and was directed by a woman. Of course these facts alone appealed to my and my daughter’s feminist leanings. 

But can a movie about a woman, directed by a woman, come across without looking like it’s trying to make a statement and yet send a message to not just girls and older women, but the whole world, loud and clear?

The answer is a resounding YESSSS.

The demigod Diana is powerful, yet naive in the beginning. She knows of the outside world only from what she has read. She wants to fix all the problems she sees. Becomes distracted from her original mission and reason for coming into the world of men. 

She doesn’t know her own strength. Not until she realizes the power, the force that opens up all of her strength, is love.

She doesn’t act superior, but she rises above what convention says a woman should be, do, or say. She doesn’t suppress who she is to make other people comfortable. 

Now, perhaps more than ever, our girls need that type of role model. One of the best parts of the entire movie was that I didn’t see Diana apologize a single time. One of the struggles with being a woman, in any era, is the expectation that our strength must be accompanied by a disclaimer. An apology. So as to not hurt the fragile egos of men. 

If there was an *unrealistic* flaw in this superhero film, that would be it. Not the fact that she didnt apologize, the reaction of the men to her strength. 

In the real world, women are told to “stay back” in so many spoken and unspoken ways. If most of us went forward the way Diana did, we’d be mocked. Scorned. And would gain a reputation as a difficult woman. A nasty woman.

She was mocked a bit, but not much. She was oblivious to it, because of the way she had been raised. With strength. With honor. And that, that is the lesson, I think. 

How we raise up our young women is what will ultimately reveal their strengths and keep them from falling into an apologetic way of living out who they are. 

Diana, like all children, had a degree of skill from her upbringing, but was ignorant of how it would actually apply to the real world beyond the safety of her home. 

But what ultimately mattered, why she was able to tap into her greatest powers, had everything to do with who she was on the inside. 

Another poignant message from the film was the notion of helping others, even when, in our own minds, they don’t deserve it.

It’s not about deserve. It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love. 

Our society is filled with the attitudes of self-centeredness. About letting people get what they “deserve”. The book I’m reading right now, Hillbilly Elegy, made me reflect on those attitudes today. They’re SO enormously prevalent, all around us. 

I’ve been on the receiving end of help many times. Even when, maybe especially when, I didn’t “deserve” it. 

Seeing people’s humanity, relating to that, and using whatever superpowers we have been given is our duty to our fellow man. It’s not about deserve. It’s about what you believe. And that is a strong message for not just girls, but all of us. 

Literary genius

Tags

book review, books, In Cold Blood, Truman Capote, writing

Last week, I picked up a book that I’d never read by an author that died shortly after I was born. Although he was a well-known writer, I had never read any of his books. When I finished my selection, I couldn’t believe that it took me so long to discover him.

It’s very rare for me to be so mesmerized by an author after reading only one of their works, but it does happen. 

The book was “In Cold Blood”. The author: Truman Capote.

This piece of non-fiction reads like a novel, but it is a true story and a chilling one from start to finish.

The murder of an entire family is not pleasant subject matter, but that is what this book is about. Capote, though he wasn’t from Holcomb, KS, and didn’t know the people involved until after the crime occurred, wrote this book and made it seem like he had been an eye witness to every perspective held within it. 

I know that he undertook a tremendous amount of research to complete this story, and it shows. Though the crime itself was horrendous, the focus is not on the gruesome factors of it, which seems to often be the temptation of many writers. Capote, instead, made this book about people. The family that died. Their friends. The law enforcement officers who didn’t give up until the killers were captured. And, of course, the criminals themselves.

While the crime itself was definitely what made this story an unthinkable tragedy, so also did the lives of the criminals. Perry Smith, in particular, had a terrible upbringing. Of course, not everyone who experiences abuse as a child grows up to be a killer. That is a rare occurrence. But there is enough detail given about his life to make one wonder if his earlier days had been different, would he have grown up to be the same way. 

Knowing what I know at the basic levels of nature vs. nurture, I saw that Smith most definitely had mental problems. Paranoid Schizophrenia, as he was believed to have, does not automatically make a person violent. But couple that with the abuse and neglect he endured as a child, and it becomes evident that multiple factors contributed to him becoming capable of murder. His accomplice also had suffered a traumatic brain injury, which, when brought into account along with other abnormalities, could explain a lot about the person he became. 

The takeaway, psychologically, is what continues to fascinate me about human beings. We seem to be born with our own unique set of DNA, and then environmental factors, often those beyond our control, have a tremendous amount of impact on what type of person we become. This doesn’t excuse criminal behavior, but I think it’s worth trying to understand. 

People who seemingly have no conscience are not “typical”. Understanding how and why it occurs is something that will always intrigue me. 

Blood is one of the best books I’ve ever read. I don’t know what that says about my tastes, but subject-matter aside, the writing was nothing short of awe-inspiring. I’ve never read anything like it and came to understand why Capote was such a braggart about his skills: it’s not bragging, though, if you can do it, right?

Only a truly great writer can transport their reader to another time and place and make that reader feel like they were there. 

Only a truly great writer can give the reader goosebumps without completely engulfing them in fear. Give just enough of the details without drowning the reader in unnecessary commentary.

Only a truly great writer can make you feel compassion for every character, even if their personalities and problems and behavior run the gamut from extreme to extreme. 

I only picked up the book after watching the film about Capote a few weeks ago. I really don’t know if I’d have ever read it unless I had seen the movie about his life. 

But I’m glad I did. My feelings about the book, but mostly the writing itself, has sat with me over this last week. 

And that, to me, is the most important defining factor of a great author: if their work and skill with language leave me breathless, if they make me want to read more, if I just want to know more about them, if it inspires me to write more and write better – that is what separates good writers from great ones. 

And Capote was, in this writer’s opinion, a literary genius. 

A Man Called Ove: Synopsis, overview, and book club discussion

Tags

A Man Called Ove, Book Club, book review

Synopsis

Ove has not had an easy life. 

He probably wouldn’t say that. Ove would probably say that his life had been fairly ordinary, and if people would just do the right thing more often, his life could have been easier. But people seem to have a way of disappointing him. Frustrating him. And he, alone, seems to have the singular gift of common sense in a mad world.

This book follows this curmudgeonly character through a very difficult period of his life. It weaves back and forth from his present to his past, giving the reader a clear picture of an often misunderstood man.

There is humor, and tragedy, and a range of strong emotions in between. 

Ove has new neighbors, and much of the book is centered around his interactions with those neighbors, and the ones who have been around for a lifetime. And a cat. Because what better companion for a bitter soul than a cat? 

Throughout the story we learn what makes Ove…..Ove. We learn about his simple, yet profound upbringing. Why he’s obsessed with Saabs. Why he has a love/hate relationship with so many people. His love for his wife, Sonja. His deepest wounds and his most glorious shining moments. 

All of these paint a picture of a man that, though gruff on the exterior, has a heart that might surprise you.

Opinion

In case it wasn’t obvious, I tried to be purposefully vague in my synopsis. I could tell you a lot more, but I hope that the brief description of the plot and the main character intrigue you enough to pick up this book for yourself. Because you should. I think, so far, it’s our best book club selection to date. 

I’ll be honest though, I didn’t finish it before our book club meeting. I had a lot going on personally that made it very NOT conducive to reading, and especially not a book like this. While I hated I missed out on really diving into our discussion, I’m glad I waited until I was in a better frame of mind to finish it and fully appreciate the profoundness of some of the subject matter.

That’s the thing about this book: it’s really an easy read, but it has so many strong messages. 

It also made me laugh out loud, a rare occurrence when I’m reading. I laugh when I read, but it’s always more of an internal chuckle. But there are places in this story that I couldn’t help but at least proclaim, “Ha!” when reading a statement or two.

I love the way the book was written. Each chapter a story unto itself. In that way, it was easy to lay down and pick back up. 

The characters are just rich enough to not take away from the title character and give an overall picture of Ove’s life that is both complex and relatable. 

I appreciate writing that can do difficult things. The transitions from past to present without feeling choppy and disjointed, the overlay of characters without becoming saturated and lost. The underlying plot that is ever-present, yet remains far enough away for the reader to appreciate what is happening in the story in that particular moment. These are not elements that are easy to achieve, and while I would say this is an “easy” read, the writing is anything but simple.

A Man Called Ove is, at its heart, a love story. And the kind of love story that is both beautiful and realistic. Ove and his wife experienced many ups and downs. But despite how different they were, their level of devotion to one another was inspirational and a testament to the fact that love, even when, and maybe especially when, we love those who appear difficult to love, the impact can be both lifelong and far-reaching.

There was a lot about marriage that resonated with me in this book as well. Perhaps nothing more than this quote by Ove’ s wife, Sonja:

Loving someone is like moving into a house,” Sonja used to say. “At first you fall in love with all the new things, amazed every morning that all this belongs to you, as if fearing that someone would suddenly come rushing in through the door to explain that a terrible mistake had been made, you weren’t actually supposed to live in a wonderful place like this. Then over the years the walls become weathered, the wood splinters here and there, and you start to love that house not so much because of all its perfection, but rather for its imperfections. You get to know all the nooks and crannies. How to avoid getting the key caught in the lock when it’s cold outside. Which of the floorboards flex slightly when one steps on them or exactly how to open the wardrobe doors without them creaking. These are the little secrets that make it your home.

I judge a good read by a lot of things, but one of my highest forms of praise would be whether or not I’d read it again. And for this one, I would. Just to soak up more of the profoundness of the story that I feel like I missed by reading it when I was so personally troubled by some things and also my disjointed consumption of the book, reading half and then coming back to it much later to finish it. It can be read that way, but it wasn’t meant to be read that way. 

If you choose to read it, learn from my mistake and set other things aside and commit to finish this one over a shorter period of time. I think it will leave you quite moved. 

Book Club Discussion 

Y’all. I’ve slept since we last met. In fact, I’ve slept a lot. And I didn’t take notes at our meeting. 

Honestly, our discussion was good, but everyone really seemed to like the book and there wasn’t a whole lot of debate about any one thing. I think the story definitely touched all of us in one way or another, and I wasn’t the only one who felt as though it was quite possibly our best selection thus far.

I promise to be a little more on top of things when we resume our meetings in August. I really won’t have a choice as our summer selection is an epic historical fiction novel that will require me to be much more organized when it comes time to write about it. In fact, I might post about it in segments. 

In any case, I hope you have enjoyed my reviews of our selections so far, and wish you a delightful summer of good reading.

“Tedious and brief”

Tags

podcast, review, S-town, stories

I spent a good portion of last weekend listening to a podcast recommended to me by a close friend. 

“S-town” is a production of This American Life, and it’s characters and subject matter hit very close to home. Quite literally. 

Not a podcast enthusiast, I ventured somewhat trepidatiously into what is, or was, for me, an uncharted medium of experiencing a story.

https://stownpodcast.org/

James B. McLemore lived an uncommonly common life. He grew up in Woodstock, Alabama, and made a living restoring antique clocks.

Never at home in Woodstock, but rooted there, he developed a love/hate relationship with his town, and the people in it. He was, in many ways, “too much” for the people of “S-town”. Many people knew him, but didn’t really know him. And that is the beautiful tragedy that surrounds his story.

I’m sure it’s everywhere, but especially it seems so in the rural south, characters like John are everywhere. I identified with his struggles. To feel like you belong….yet don’t. 

To outsiders, that is, those who haven’t lived and grown up in a place like us, it can seem as though we spin our wheels by continuing to live in a place where life can seem anything but progressive. “Why do you stay there?”

I’ve been asked this question. I’ve asked myself this question. And it’s a hard thing to explain. 

For me, and I would speculate for John, the simple answer is, “It’s home.”

We live in a place that in many ways we’ve outgrown, yet stay. Maybe to try and leave a tiny splash of color on a landscape that can appear faded and outdated to those who don’t really know it. Or even to those who do.

My hometown is bigger than S-town, but the mindset is very similar. There are people in John’s story that appear to be mirror images of individuals I have known myself. 

S-town is a tragic story, beautifully crafted and narrarated, and given to the world. The lessons of time and how we spend it, are an underlying theme sprinkled throughout the words. It is an exceptional piece of storytelling, and one that continues to resonate with me. I suspect that it always will.

I’ve absorbed it. Ruminated on it. Dissected it. And allowed it to inspire me in many ways. That, to me, is what makes art valuable. Its inspirational and transformative abilities. 

I’ve included the link to the podcast. If you’re feeling brave, I’d encourage you to listen to it. Fair warning though: the subject matter is mature. The language profane, more than it isn’t at times. But if you’re able to deal with that, I highly recommend it. 

John’s life was tedious, and brief. So is mine. So is yours. And all of our stories are tragically beautiful. And whether you’ve experienced the same mentalities that exist in places like S-town or not, I suspect his story will touch you in some way. 

Good stories always do. Which is why I love them, and have made a commitment to tell them.

Top 10 Tuesday: Greatest books that were turned into a TV show or movie

Tags

adapted for film, books, movies, screenplay

Reagan picked this topic for me. She’s recently turned into a TV junkie and had gotten really lazy in her reading.

For anyone who knows anything about my daughter, you’ll know that this is not in character for her at all. The lack of reading, not necessarily the laziness. 😂

To get her to read certain books, I have bribed her at times with the promise of watching the movie with her when she was finished. 

But I digress. 

I do love to read a terrific book and then find out it’s being adapted for film. I almost ALWAYS read books before I see the movies that inspired them, but I have been known to read one afterward on occasion. 

For instance:

1. LONESOME DOVE

This book was made into a television miniseries when I was a kid and my dad absolutely fell in love with it.

When I got older, I watched all 6+ hours of it myself and then read the book. 

This is one of the rare occasions where I did not find one to be greater than the other. The miniseries and the book were equally fantastic. And it may have been because it DID end up as a miniseries. Some books are just too good to condense and make into a two hour film.

2. CAT ON A HOT TIN ROOF

Now, this isn’t a book, but it was a play. And I DID read it. But the screen adaptation is flat out fabulous. 

Paul Newman, Elizabeth Taylor? It’s smokin’ hot and one of the rare movies set in the south that I find entirely realistic. I know everyone in the family portrayed. It’s downright spooky.

3. TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD 

Another classic that I think was extremely well done by the filmmakers. P.S. I am in love with Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch. 

Little-known-fact: If Reagan had been a boy, she very well might have been “Atticus”.

THAT is how much I love this story.

4. THE HELP

Reagan actually just finished this book and we watched the movie a couple of weekends ago. She agreed with my assessment (of which I’d been trying to convince her forever in pushing her to read the book) that they were equally fabulous.

I really hope Katherine Stockett puts out more material because this story is really, really good. 

The movie was partially filmed in Jackson, MS, and it’s pretty cool to see familiar places on the big screen. 

5. TWILIGHT 

Hahahahahahaha!!! Just kidding. 

I read the books. Yes, I unashamedly admit that I read every single one of the 4 part series. And I saw every single film.

The friend that loaned me the first book in the series went to see the first movie with me. And we laughed through the whole thing.

Total, superficial indulgence. Because the movies suuuuckkkked. The books were actually not bad for YA fiction. But the films ruined them. 

6. THE WALKING DEAD

Not trying to take liberties with the subject, but TWD IS based on a graphic novel series so Imma say it counts.

The Walking Dead is one of my favorite TV series. I’ve read bits and pieces of the comics, but not a lot. I think I’d like to eventually though just so I can make a legitimate comparison.

7. HARRY POTTER 

I know a lot of people who definitely have one preference over the other when it comes to beloved books being made into movies. But Harry Potter was done well.

I absolutely love the books more, but I think each filmmaker really did a great job in capturing the story and the entire world of JK Rowling’s imagination being brought to life on screen was really incredible.

8. LORD OF THE RINGS 

I’m gonna make another confession here: I’ve never completely finished all of the LOTR books.

I know, I know, I’m a sham and a disgrace to writers everywhere.

But I do know that the films were painstakingly made to be as visually and verbally precise as Tolkien purists could dare to imagine.

These movies, in my opinion, are the best epic masterpieces of filmmaking in my lifetime.

I will also say this, in my defense of not finishing reading LOTR. I find Tolkien to be over-descriptive at times. I get buried in it and lose what’s happening in the story. 

I’ll try to read them all again one day, “But it is not THIS day!”. Heh

9. PRIDE AND PREJUDICE 

A&E ran a miniseries of this a long time ago when Colin Firth really started to gain popularity with American audiences.

It’s a delightful adaptation of a timeless piece of literature.

10. ALICE IN WONDERLAND 

I LOVED this book as a child and then they created a TV miniseries for it when I was a kid. It had an all star cast and was turned into a musical for this version as well.

I have more titles still running through my head. I’d love to hear about your personal favorites in the comments!

Orphan Train: Synopsis, opinion, and book club overview

Tags

Book Club, book review, Opinion, orphan train

SYNOPSIS

Orphan Train by Christina Baker Kline follows parallel stories of two orphans: Molly and Vivian.

Molly’s present day story is told alongside of Vivian’s, an Irish emigrant who came to the U.S. during the years before the Great Depression.

Molly loses her father to a car accident, her mother to drugs, and is placed in the foster system as a young child.

Vivian loses her family in an apartment fire in NYC and is placed on an orphan train with hundreds of other children and shipped off to the Midwest to find a permanent home.

Their stories converge in Maine in 2011 when Molly, a 17 year old wannabe juvenile delinquent, ends up serving community service hours by helping 90 year old Vivian with a personal project.

The book mainly focuses on Vivian’s journey and how her experience on the orphan train shaped the rest of her life. Molly’s story is sprinkled throughout and provides a contrast for the reader.

OPINION

I’d give you more of a synopsis, but I’d give too much of the story away. A one dimensional overview seems appropriate anyway because, as a whole, I found this book to be a very shallow read. In places. 

In the places where it is the most gut wrenching, I found myself wanting the author to go deeper. I wanted to know how the characters were feeling on more than a primal level and she never delivered. Or if she did, it was only in brief moments. Not enough to really make this book all that it could have, and really SHOULD have, been to do justice to the real life children who rode orphan trains and have also experienced abuse throughout the foster system.

Which brings me to another complaint: there was so much bad in the people represented as foster and adoptive parents. 

I know both, in real life, and while I’m sure that there are those who are only in it for what they can get out of it, I don’t think that it’s fair to put such a blemish over the entire sectors of these parents as a whole. Which it felt like Kline did.

I try to be so careful when judging books. As a writer myself, I find that I am becoming increasingly critical of writing styles and that can hinder the reading of a book that I might otherwise have enjoyed just a few short years ago. Maybe my tastes are refining. Maybe I’m becoming a book snob.

There was just a lot lacking in the story, and I’ll address some of that now.

BOOK CLUB DISCUSSION

I was not alone in my overall opinions about Orphan Train. I think all of us were glad we read it, because it taught us all about a real life movement than most of us had never even heard of before. 

We generally felt that so much could have been brought out about the real life orphan trains and that the modern day story about Molly sounded like something an editor suggested to bring “relevance” to the story. Make it more relatable to present day readers.

The book read almost as though Kline wrote Vivian’s story and then went back and added Molly’s. It felt…..disjointed. 

Another complaint was that there was a scene of sexual assault in the book. And it was completely overlooked in terms of how it affected the victim, a major character. Granted, sexual assault is a topic that is swept under the rug all the time, but it felt like a missed opportunity to give readers further insight into the psyche of the character who experienced it.

One book club member said it felt like it was only used for some added drama, and she was tired of seeing it used in books and movies as a means for just giving some new type of suspense. 

Orphan Train had not one loving mother figure character. And we all felt as though that was a terrible shame. After some reflection, none of the men really seemed all that great either. And the whole thing just ended up having a very cynical aftertaste for me.

But before you think we just all LOATHED this book, I want to say this: I don’t just judge a book by what it says directly (or doesn’t say, in this case) but also by whether or not it leads me to other lines of thought and reflection. And this book did that.

Vivian is 90 years old. The community service project that Molly helps her with is cleaning out Vivian’s attic. This is how she learns about Vivian’s experience on the orphan train.

Here is a quote from the book where Molly is frustrated because Vivian is reluctant to throw out any of her old stuff:

Maybe it doesn’t matter how much gets done. Maybe the value is in the process – in touching each item, in naming and identifying, in acknowledging the significance of a cardigan, a pair of children’s boots.

Knowing how my own 84 year old grandmother is about her “stuff” and what it was like to move 30+ years of it to my parent’s home when she moved in with them 2 years ago, I find that this story softened me a bit. 

The things around us often represent some time in our lives that was significant, if only to us. Who am I to tell her what she should and shouldn’t keep?

Also, this quote reminds me of therapy. “Touching each item, naming and identifying….” Sometimes we have to do that to heal from past hurts. Put a name on them. Call it what it was, what it is. And then we can move on. 

I found these thoughts to be profound. And I find that my love for peoples’ stories continue. Even when I feel like they could have been told better.