Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Book review: The Nest

My library system (which I love dearly and for so many reasons!) has a “Lucky Day” program that can help you score a new, popular title that would normally require a months-long hold wait and go home with it that day. I’ve gotten a couple of books this way, but the 7 day limit with no holds or renewals sort of cramps my style – I generally won’t have enough time to finish. (I really enjoyed the 2 or three essays I finished from last Lucky book – Neil Gaiman’s View from the Cheap Seats, which I read on a very hectic day in June. I didn’t come close to finishing the book, but they provided just the respite I needed for a day that I may eventually blog about. Maybe I should check out more essay collections?

During last week’s epic pre-birthday library visit, I found an available copy of The Nest by Cynthia D’Aprix Sweeney. It had been on my hold list forever and so I was a bit excited to take it home. From the first page, I was hooked. It tells the story of four siblings, Leo, Jack, Beatrice, and Melody who are all eagerly awaiting a sizable inheritance (the “Nest”) that will finally be theirs in just a few months. When Leo, the oldest brother, has a terrible accident that decimates the Nest, the other siblings freak out. They had all made financial choices that would have been erased once they inherited, but all that is now in jeopardy.

I thought this was a smart, funny, thoughtful book. The sibling interaction was very interesting to me; I saw parts of myself and my own 3 siblings in each of them. I was particularly interested in the youngest, Melody, who’s a bit of an anxious control freak. Her frenetic overthinking and planning and worrying – well, I can’t imagine why that would seem familiar to me. Near the end, she has this moment as she turns 40 and she realizes that what used to work just doesn’t anymore, and she has to start letting go of things held too firmly, of control over her husband and twin daughters, of perceptions of her relationships with her siblings, and her definition of what it means to be a successful parent. I really loved Melody on the entire novel, and I was cheering her on with her new direction and realization of her place in the world and her family as the novel ended.


I don’t know that this book is for everyone. But the writing was great, the subject matter was refreshing, and, best of all, the length was perfect, since I finished it in the allotted 7 days, and so I might not even incur fines for it. Lucky day indeed.

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Hallelujah - I'm 41!

I'm 41. Good riddance to 40.

The past year - gah, I've been a mess. I may still be, but just being past the year in which I was 40 is a giant relief. 

In the late evening last night, I went to the library. After an enjoyable 20 minutes of texting with Amy in library-desperation of finding a book, I walked out into a beautiful sunset. I sat on a bench and took a picture and I realized: it's over. I don't have to be 40 anymore. The sky and the birds and the trees and the twilight all over made me so happy and relieved. 

There haven't been many moments of sheer joy. There have been way too many filled with other emotions (that just writing about feels me with dread.) I know that an age really doesn't matter, but the 365 days that began on July 4, 2015 were all tied in to the idea of turning 40 and feeling betrayed by my body and my mind and everything about myself that I thought I knew. 

I went to bed feeling happy. I woke up feeling happy. My birthday has been really great and it all seems so simple and unexpected. I wish I could have felt on my 40th birthday what I feel today. But I was a different person then and I guess I needed to go through this past year to know what it can be like.

At 41 -

I'm more willing be authentic.

I'm more willing to say my feelings.

I'm able to understand my feelings.

I'm able to control my reactions. Maybe not perfectly every time, but I'm much less reactionary.

I'm less willing to believe everything I think.

I'm trying hard not to spend so much time in my head.

I realize that not making a choice is making a choice, so I'd rather just decide and move on.

I'm trying to not worry about what others think.

I've been thinking about the Harry Potter quote from Deathly Hallows, when Harry is asks Dumbledore "Is this real, or is it just happening in my head?" And how Dumbledore says, "Well of course it's happening in your head, but that doesn't make it any less real." (I'm paraphrasing!) It's sort of been playing out daily for me in two ways: real things seem less so, and my thoughts seem immeasurably real and giant (and, honestly: frightening!) But I'm ready to believe more in the things I can taste and see and smell and feel and that are real and stop living in the imagined future and reimagined past.

41. I'm only 1 day into it, but I'm so happy it's here.