Book #13 for me was our March book group offering The Cape Ann. Although this book has been around for many years, and has been well-regarded, I had never read it. Our book group read another, shorter book by Faith Sullivan several years ago, one called What a Woman Must Do.
Like last month's book, Little Heathens, this novel is set in the Great Depression. But while there are moments of simple pleasure in The Cape Ann, the book most clearly depicts the grim reality of how desperate that time was for many people. The young heroine, Lark, at times seemed to me almost a little too wise beyond her years; other times her words and thoughts were pitch perfect.
The common thread between The Cape Ann and What a Woman Must Do is the theme of a strong woman, doing what is hard but necessary. Lark's mother is portrayed as a larger-than-life character: smart, strong, resourceful, and compassionate: she won't give up her dreams. Many heart-breaking events happen in the course of this story. In our meeting last night, we were struck by the absence of strong male characters (although we all liked Father Delias, when he forgave Lark's sins, but not when he refused to bury Hilly.)
Here is my favorite quotation from the book:
After Lark's confession: "When I thrust aside the curtain and left, my feet were as weightless as I imagined Fred Astaire's to be. I floated down the aisle in a gauzy haze of light and lightness. In my life I had never felt such disencumbrance. If I lifted my arms, I would float up to the dark beams and along the ceiling, and my new innocence would hold me aloft. This was how angels felt."
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Friday, March 27, 2009
Monday, June 23, 2008
Why I'm Depressed
Yesterday after church, I stopped at the local Large Chain Bookstore to use one of my gift cards, and when I opened up my small billfold, it seemed strangely light. I realized that I had a twenty dollar bill and a few ones and that they were no longer in my billfold. Also, one of my credit cards was missing. I went through my billfold and found everything else that was supposed to be there -- was there.
I felt strangely unsettled the rest of the day. I looked through a few pockets and an extra bag I carry and didn't find anything. I remembered as well a couple of odd things about my office at church -- when I returned to my office after church, the door was locked but ajar, and there was a stray quarter on my desk, and another on the floor. I thought that was odd.
This morning, I called the the credit card company, and they informed me that there was no activity on the card. So maybe I had just mislaid the money and the card. It's been known to happen.
At about 5:00, though, I got a phone call. Someone had used my card at a gas station. That's what they do nowadays. To buy gas, you don't need an I.D. or even a signature. So I cancelled the card, and now I'm depressed. I keep telling myself, it's just a little bit of money. And then another part of me says, yeah, but every little bit helps. And I also hear my mother's voice, saying, You should be more careful with your things. So, along with everything else, I also feel a deep sense of shame.
This isn't the first time this has happened to me. Not long after I moved here, someone stole my billfold (which at that time contained my checkbook) and actually used two checks at a grocery store. This was also at church, while I was at an evening meeting. Another time, I was attending a church dinner, and someone stole my entire purse. Someone found it later in a nearby park. And yet another time (actually Christmas Eve two years ago) my credit cards were stolen during the Sunday morning service. I got a call the day after Christmas from the fraud department. I hadn't even realized they were gone.
While on internship, my billfold was stolen one day at the church I worked at. At that time, my biggest worry was actually my Drivers License. The good news in that case was that the police found my billfold and I eventually got it back.
And lest you think that this is just a church thing, I never had one problem with theft in all the years I spent in rural South Dakota. I also never had a problem while in college or Seminary. Not one. I did have small amounts of money stolen from my purse sometimes when I worked at a small office in downtown Minneapolis.
It all goes back, though, to the 8th grade: that year, my parents gave me my allowance and my lunch money every week, and for a few weeks in a row, someone stole the money from my purse, until I learned my lesson. Seems in some ways, I still haven't.
I ask you, why can't I take better care of my things?
I felt strangely unsettled the rest of the day. I looked through a few pockets and an extra bag I carry and didn't find anything. I remembered as well a couple of odd things about my office at church -- when I returned to my office after church, the door was locked but ajar, and there was a stray quarter on my desk, and another on the floor. I thought that was odd.
This morning, I called the the credit card company, and they informed me that there was no activity on the card. So maybe I had just mislaid the money and the card. It's been known to happen.
At about 5:00, though, I got a phone call. Someone had used my card at a gas station. That's what they do nowadays. To buy gas, you don't need an I.D. or even a signature. So I cancelled the card, and now I'm depressed. I keep telling myself, it's just a little bit of money. And then another part of me says, yeah, but every little bit helps. And I also hear my mother's voice, saying, You should be more careful with your things. So, along with everything else, I also feel a deep sense of shame.
This isn't the first time this has happened to me. Not long after I moved here, someone stole my billfold (which at that time contained my checkbook) and actually used two checks at a grocery store. This was also at church, while I was at an evening meeting. Another time, I was attending a church dinner, and someone stole my entire purse. Someone found it later in a nearby park. And yet another time (actually Christmas Eve two years ago) my credit cards were stolen during the Sunday morning service. I got a call the day after Christmas from the fraud department. I hadn't even realized they were gone.
While on internship, my billfold was stolen one day at the church I worked at. At that time, my biggest worry was actually my Drivers License. The good news in that case was that the police found my billfold and I eventually got it back.
And lest you think that this is just a church thing, I never had one problem with theft in all the years I spent in rural South Dakota. I also never had a problem while in college or Seminary. Not one. I did have small amounts of money stolen from my purse sometimes when I worked at a small office in downtown Minneapolis.
It all goes back, though, to the 8th grade: that year, my parents gave me my allowance and my lunch money every week, and for a few weeks in a row, someone stole the money from my purse, until I learned my lesson. Seems in some ways, I still haven't.
I ask you, why can't I take better care of my things?
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