The Glass Castle

Orphan Train reminded me early on that I was given a book on my 18th birthday entitled The Glass Castle. Similar to Orphan Train, this memoir is a recollection on child abuse and hardships through growing up in nontraditional ways. Because of the supposed similarities between the books and because of my enjoyment of Orphan Train, I decided to finally read The Glass Castle 7 years after it had been given to me. 

The book opens up with our narrator and author, Jeannette Walls, seeing her mother digging through a dumpster in New York City. We recognize that seeing this is embarrassing to Jeannette and that obviously her relationship to her now homeless mother is a precarious one. 

We then travel back in time to learn that when she was just 3 years old, Jeannette was burned cooking hot dogs alone (meaning with no adult supervision). It became evident to me in reading her memoir that her parents were neglectful and possibly quite horrible people who will (this was my foreshadowing moment) continue to take advantage of their daughter and give her no real parenting. "Mom said people worried too much about their children. Suffering when you're young is good for you, she said. It immunized your body and your soul, and that was why she ignored us kids when we cried ..." Their mother is unfeeling toward her children whereas their father feels for them very much, but both sets of parents are incapable of taking care of their children.

To me, her father, Rex Walls, is the problem in the memoir. He is drunk, lazy, and ultimately naive. Her father used to tell her and her siblings stories of all the wonderful things he had done and when he wasn't doing that he was working on the blueprints for an amazing house they'd build someday ... the glass castle. All they had to do was strike it rich and he believed that they could do that through an invention he had made himself. One day, short on cash, Rex sold Mom's wedding ring, which her mother had paid for ... Mom brings it up whenever they get in a fight, and Rex always tells her to quit her bellyaching ... as soon as they strike it rich he'll buy her a new one ... and of course build that glass castle.

The family lives like nomads moving around and doing the "skedaddle" whenever they stay too long in one place and get in trouble for one reason or another. One theme that keeps coming back to haunt Jeannette is fire. At one point the hotel they're staying at burns down, and she states that "what I did know was that I lived in a world that at any moment could erupt into fire. It was the sort of knowledge that kept you on your toes."

While there are too many moments where I felt a pure sort of disgust and hatred toward the parents in this memoir at other times I came to the hard realization that it really is a beautiful book about a family that lives by its own rules and sometimes the lessons the children are taught are truly beautiful. Jeannette's mother considers herself an artist ... at one point she keeps painting pictures of a crippled-looking Joshua tree. Jeannette finds a sapling of a Joshua tree and asks her mom if she can replant it by their house and protect it from the wind and water it everyday so it'll grow nice and tall and straight. "Mom frowned at me. 'You'd be destroying what makes it special,' she said. 'It's the Joshua tree's struggle that gives it its beauty.'" There is something poetic in the twisted lessons the Walls children learn. The children are also taught to never hate anyone, even their worst enemies. "Everyone has something good about them ... You have to find the redeeming quality and love the person for that." When Jeannette says, "Oh year? How about Hitler? What was his redeeming quality?" Her mother replies without hesitation that he loved dogs.

Soon it became evident to me this is not a memoir of child abuse and a horrific upbringing ... it is the memoir of a nomadic childhood. "Mom liked to encourage self-sufficiency in all living creatures." Unfortunately as their mother soon realizes ... the children become self-sufficient because they have to in order to survive. They start to realize their parents' inadequacies and slowly start calling their parents out (particularly their mother at first) on their inability to provide for their often dirty, hungry, and self-sufficient children. Their family lives by these unspoken rules that they are forever supposed to be pretending their life is one big adventure and never point out its realistic shortcomings. It is easy to see in this memoir that the parents don't want anything but the best for their kids but are just purely incapable of delivering it. 

We also learn a hard lesson as readers of this memoir that some people are just horrible people. The Walls are sometimes horrible people, they sometimes have to live with and deal with horrible people, they are cheated by horrible people and cheated by each other. We learn that people try to get by through any way that they can, and sometimes it's unsettling. At one point the Walls throw all their garbage in a pit they dug by the side of their house ... and an earlier thought that had come to me proved true. The Walls are garbage. They are shitty shitty selfish people ... they drink and eat candy while their children starve or they go off on "adventures" while their children are left to the cantankerous whims of their perverse and bigoted grandmother. How do you read a memoir and keep an emotional balance between seeing the beauty in this crazy people and their life lessons and then hating them for their pure neglect and idiocy and the for the pure pain they put their children through. Self-sufficiency is bullshit for a child ... children should be taken care of. The Glass Castle made me think of some of my kids at my school - my students who show up stinking and dirty and not enough to eat and parents who don't care. Parents who can buy brand new cell phones but don't have money for clean clothes, soap, or school supplies. Who am I to judge? I never experienced poverty like the Walls did, and I don't live in my children's homes. But admittedly it's hard to not judge parents when they're described as pursuing their own interests instead of making the necessary sacrifices to keep their children taken care of. 

Jeannette mentions once that she hates winter. Her mother states that "All seasons have something to offer. Cold weather is good for you. It kills the germs." Jeannette admits that even if she ever did wake up with a fever she'd probably never admit it to her mother because it "might have meant staying home in our freezing house instead of spending the day in a toasty classroom." 

The moment this memoir made me lose it was when at one point their evil bigoted  and abusive grandmother dies and the kids says "Ding-dong, the witch is dead." Their dad, Rex, wheels around with such a cold, angry look, and glares at the kids saying "You kids. You make me ashamed. Do you hear me? Ashamed!" .... Lori, the older sister yells after the retreating father who's going to the bar and says "You're ashamed of us?" Here again we see the boldness of the children as their self-sufficiency turns them into grown ups too fast. How can a drunk, stealing, abusive, absent, good-for-nothing, job-losing, neglectful father ever have the right to be ashamed of his own children? I have an alcoholic father and I don't feel bad admitting that anymore because it's the truth. When I confronted my father once on a vacation about his drinking he told me he was ashamed of me. Of me?!?! You've got to be kidding me, right? Despite years of him giving up on himself and on us, his family, I managed to still go to college, travel the world, graduate with honors, get accepted into a prestigious teaching program ... and you're ashamed of me???? This memoir hit home with me and it hit home really hard. Sometimes our parents try to do their best and they just fail. I understand why Jeannette Walls wrote this memoir, I can understand the catharsis behind it, I can understand the love one feels for their parents no matter how defective they are. Maybe it's like her mother said ... you always have to find the good in a person and love them just for that.

 

Jeannette Walls had selfish parents. They gave her an "adventurous" childhood and that can't be denied. But her mother was a selfish woman who cared more about her self-esteem than feeding her children. Their father loved them but was addicted to striking it rich without ever doing the work to make it happen. He wanted a handout and it never really came. 

Soon the Walls children become the parents and start taking care of the adults. Jeannette gets sick of her mother playing hooky when she manages to snag a teaching job (she has a teaching license but hates teaching and often quits); Jeannette tells her mother to go to work and her mother snaps, "You can't talk to me like that, I'm your mother." To which she receives the reply, "If you want to be treated like a mother, you should act like one." 

Eventually the Walls children escape from their parents and move to New York. They try to become successful despite their unusual "upbringing." Their parents follow them and choose a life of homelessness - it seems to fit them well. 

In the end this book made me cry harder than any book ever has. I felt a connection to this memoir that I did not necessarily want. In the end you can't help but loving your parents no matter how screwed up they are ... it becomes necessary to hold on to the good times, the happy memories, and those qualities that make the horrible people in your life worth loving in the first place. I stayed up until about two in the morning finishing this book ... then went into my living room ... and cried. I cried so hard that I had to call my mother and wake her up at 2am to talk to her about life, growing up, the mistakes, the happy times, the "adventures." Hold on to what's good and try to survive. 

Jeannette Walls is now a regular contributor to MSNBC. She has written other memoirs that (if I can stomach it) I'll probably read someday.  If nothing else I must implore you to read The Glass Castle. Maybe subconsciously I waited to read it all these years because at 18 ... I just wasn't ready for it. I wasn't ready to examine my own childhood and forgive and love and hate and deal with the frustrations of my own family. This book is worth the inner turmoil you will feel reading it. It is someone else's memories that will mold into your own. She will change the way you think of people and force you to question your own judgments. I thank her for sharing her story and I beg you (now I'm begging you) to read this riveting and heartbreaking memoir for yourself, if you haven't already. 

Orphan Train

I have not written in a very long time. I finished a novel called Orphan Train by Christina Baker Kline about two weeks ago actually. It was originally recommended to me by Scott's mom, Jody. This story is a brilliant piece of fiction about finding where you belong and examining a "forgotten chapter of American history" (as the front of the book tells us). I became more interested in this novel which tells us two stories, one about a young Irish immigrant whose parents die in an apartment fire after they come to New York from Ireland and another story of a girl in 2011 who lives in foster care, after I had read the novel The Chaperone. In The Chaperone our main character came to the Midwest on an orphan train herself, and sees an opportunity to chaperone a young girl in New York as a chance to try and figure out where she came from. In Orphan Train, the young girl in foster care - Molly, gets in trouble for stealing a book from the library. Having been too embarrassed to ask her foster parents to get it for her she thought the library would never miss an old copy of a classic piece of literature, but alas she is caught. Molly's extreme desire to lose herself in literature reminded me also of The Book Thief. To make up her community service hours she works in the attic of an elderly woman named Vivian. She is supposed to help Vivian sort through her possessions, but through this sorting both of the women recognize that they are more alike than they originally thought.

Having lost her parents to a fire after moving to a new country, Vivian's story is one of turmoil, abuse, confusion, and desperation. However, as we find out, there will be a shining light at the end of her dark journey. After her parents' deaths, Vivian became a burden to society, and "nobody's responsibility." As she finds herself an one of the historical orphan trains she wonders what will become of her. On the train she finds herself thinking of what family might take her in ... but she is skeptical. "I know all too well how it is when the beautiful visions you've been fed don't match up with reality." She reminisces that her family was ill-prepared for emigration - the humiliations, the compromises, and she feels that they failed in every possible way they could in this new country ... she feels as though they took for granted all they had back home in Ireland. This is just the start of dark times for our young Vivian. 

Vivian's original name was Niamh, but she was then renamed Dorothy after being picked up by a married couple in Minnesota. This couple had no interest in her as a daughter but only as a worker in their house making women's clothes alongside other women (although the other women get paid, whereas "Dorothy" does not). Dorothy has to use the outhouse as she is not allowed to use the indoor toilet and she sleeps on a pallet that she has to pull out from the hall closet every night and sleep in the hallway while the people who took her in sleep comfortably upstairs. She is called an insolent child from the slums when she objects to their refusal to send her to school. Despite what they think of her she is very smart and feels abused at their disallowing her to continue her education (and instead continue working throughout the day). It was a constant stream of gossip on the train that all orphans would be treated cruelly from those looking to adopt - and "Dorothy's" guardians had no desire to even adopt her at all. 

Back in 2011 we have Molly who is treated very similarly as Vivian was back in 1920s and after. The only person who seems to treat Molly with respect and give her the benefit of the doubt is Vivian herself. Vivian remarks at one point that she can tell that Molly feels things. Deeply. Pointedly saying that she'll probably find it old-fashioned and sentimental, at one point Vivian gives Molly her copy of Anne of Green Gables and demands that she read it. The connection between that novel, also about an orphan being taken in, and Vivian who survived the terrors that hit her after getting off the train, and Molly, a Native American living in foster care with a foster-mom who is bigoted and selfish ... the connection at this moment in the novel is poignant to say the least. Having coincidentally found one another, Molly and Vivian start to help the other one heal. Molly's boyfriend's mother is the one who got her the gig with Vivian and her attic, but her boyfriend's mother constantly treats her like a lazy criminal. 

Vivian's story picks up again frequently and we learn that the people who took her in originally abandon her quickly during the Great Depression. When a man from the Children's Aid Society (the organization that runs some of the trains) shows up to take her away from the Byrnes (her first "foster" family), she is half-starving, sick of the padlocked fridge which is locked up nightly to make sure she doesn't steal anything, and as she is leaving the building Mrs. Byrnes says "She eats too much!" Something that showcases her mental instability and highlights the suffering young Vivian endured. 

Our young Vivian/Dorothy/Niamh is now being shipped off to a farm. In the dead of a Minnesota winter she arrives at a shack that is falling apart and sees children that she's expected to take care of who smell like wild animals and a pregnant mother who doesn't care about them.  

On her way to the Grotes ... this new wild farm family ... young Vivian reflects on how she is starting to retreat to someplace deep inside. "It is a pitiful kind of childhood, to know that no one loves you or is taking care of you, to always be on the outside looking in. I feel a decade older than my years. I know too much; I have seen people at their worst, at their most desperate and selfish, and this knowledge makes me wary. So I am learning to pretend, to smile and nod, to display empathy I do not feel. I am learning to pass, to look like everyone else, even though I feel broken inside." This heartfelt confession is the same sentiments that Molly feels after years of going from foster home to foster home. The feeling of not belonging, of not fitting in anywhere, of never feeling safe.

At the shack where she is a babysitter for children she feels nothing for, young Vivian finally starts to notice the beauty of Minnesota for the first time since coming to the state. The Minnesota farm county feels beautiful to her, and finally, back at school, she is starting to be treated with warmth from Miss Larsen, her new schoolteacher. Miss Larsen treats her like she's smart and starts to slowly rebuild her confidence in herself. This part of Vivian's story made me a little teary-eyed as I recognized the power that adults have in the lives of children, but more importantly the power that a teacher has over her students. Teachers can inspire students to become great adults, great human beings, or they can tear a child down and reduce them to nothing. Teachers should always be vessels of light and encouragement and in Vivian's childhood she finally finds solace from this warm women who teaches her in a one-room schoolhouse in the middle of nowhere, Minnesota. In this schoolhouse there are students from ages 6 to 16, and finally Vivian starts to fit in. 

Back to Molly's story we see more about her own struggles as a kid who feels like a burden to society. Her foster mom proves to be an ignorant asshole who makes discriminatory remarks against minorities (remember that Molly herself is Native American). Ralph, her foster father, genuinely tries to keep the piece and overall the two foster parents take care of Molly and under their household she pulls college-worthy grades and test scores. In Molly's American History class they are learning about the Wabanaki Indians and are given an assignment. They have to interview someone - "a mother or father or grandparent - about their own portages, the moments in their lives when they've had to take a journey, literal or metaphorical." They have to take oral histories using tape recorders and ask questions relating to the Wabanaki Indians' concept of portaging - carrying everything you possess from one place to the next. Molly decides to interview Vivian and it is here that Orphan Train starts to reveal some even darker secrets that might never have come to see the light of day had Molly not pried them open. 

We find out that something horrible happened to Vivian when she lived at the shack. And we hear that she runs. Her portage is one of survival. "And run I do, leaving almost everything I possess in the world behind me - my brown suitcase, the three dresses I made at the Byrnes', the fingerless gloves and change of underwear and the navy sweater, my schoolbooks and pencil, the composition book Miss Larsen gave me to write in ... I leave four children I could not help and did not love. I leave a place of degradation and squalor, the likes of which I will never experience again. And I leave any last shred of my childhood on the rough planks of that living room floor." Through the kindness of a teacher and the insolence of her protectors, Vivian finally starts to see that metaphorical light through the darkness. It takes horrible experiences, but eventually the kindness of strangers takes over. After a year of being in Minnesota, Vivian finally felt safe when her teacher convinced the owner of her boarding house to take in Vivian temporarily. And for the first time in her entire life, Vivian had a room of her own. 

Molly and Vivian start to rehash old memories. "Vivian has never really talked about her experience on the train with anyone. It was shameful, she says. Too much to explain, too hard to believe. All those children sent on trains to the Midwest - collected off the streets of New York like refuse, garbage on a barge, to be sent as far away as possible, out of sight." To reiterate the strong connection between the two, as Vivian talks about each memory triggered by each box they open in the attic, Molly starts to feel less alone. "When Vivian describes how it felt to be at the mercy of strangers, Molly nods. She knows full well what it's like to tamp down your natural inclinations, to force a smile when you feel numb ... More often than not, you see the worst of people. You learn that most adults lie. That most people only look out for themselves. That you are only as interesting as you are useful to someone." As this novel unfolds we start to ask ourselves about the foster care system, we question our nation's history and the choices that were made to send kids out to families who could abuse and use them with little to no consequences. We question the judgments we pass down on others without knowing their back stories. We question ourselves. We see that the personalities of these women have been shaped by their experiences. It is repeatedly brought up that you learn to pretend to pass through life even though you're broken inside. 

"I don't want to go into another home where I'm treated like a servant, tolerated only for the labor I can provide." Vivian finally gets the name "Vivian" when she finds a family who finally treat her like a daughter and not an indentured servant. Many people who reflect on the orphan train movement refer to the children from the trains as indentured servants - forced to work or submit to the whims of the family who took them in. Luckily for Vivian she found a family who gave her meaning, and luckily for Molly ... she found Vivian. In finding Vivian, Molly gets somewhat saved ... and in a way Molly also saves Vivian in return. 

"The people who matter in our lives stay with us, haunting our most ordinary moments." Vivian gives meaning to Molly's community service but more importantly to her life. This was a truly heartfelt novel that exposes a part of American history that is indeed often forgotten. It gives the tales of two women with similar lives in very different decades, and alas it shows us that though times may change many things still stay the same. Foster care is still somewhat controversial when you look at what some kids go through and how their lives can be forever tainted by the mercy of others. This novel also shows us the pure goodness of some people - people who can put other people on life-changing paths. This novel made me genuinely angry at times, genuinely fearful, genuinely sad, and at the end genuinely hopeful. Orphan Train reinforced my faith in teaching and showed me again how adults and children can impact one another. I highly suggest this book, and if you read it and like it I would also suggest The Book Thief and The Chaperone. Two books that have very similar themes to this one, The Book Thief and The Chaperone, talk about how adults can change the lives of children for better or worse; these books talk about the goodness of people and the power of love. Give them all a try - they'll heal your heart like chicken soup for the soul. 

The Two Hotel Francforts

One week ago, on Friday, I finished David Leavitt's The Two Hotel Francforts. This novel takes place in summer of 1940 in Lisbon, Portugal. It is the only neutral port left in Europe during WWII. It is filled with all kinds of people - including refugees - trying to escape and "tipping back absinthe" to pass the time. I hadn't realized it when I bought the book but the novel itself is very sexually charged with an improbable affair, a woman whose status as a Jew leaves her desire to stay in Europe a foolish one, and another woman whose desperate attempts to hold her marriage together come off as uncomfortable and insincere.

This story is separated into chapters and parts. The first part is entitled Anywhere. Two couples meet in Lisbon. Pete and Julia and then Edward and Iris. Immediately Pete (our narrator) feels that Edward is an intriguing man. Someone he feels the need to read like a book - someone he wants to read like a book. Julia, Pete's wife, doesn't share the same enthusiasm for Edward and maybe even less so for his wife Iris. Julia, who is Jewish, does not want to board the ship coming to take Americans back home. She hates Portugal but even suggests staying there for the duration of the war rather than go back home to America. Julia gives us some foreshadowing to her fate. We find out early on that Julia will die at the end of the book but we don't know how. She does, however, speak matter-of-fact-like about suicide and death. She turns to Edward and Iris and comments, almost bitterly, how Pete is hopelessly committed to life. Iris comments that someone once told her that if you jump off a roof you should dive headfirst - that way you die instantly. "My, what a grim turn the conversation has taken!" Iris exclaims. Then we hear Edward retort that "You'd think the world was ending or something." For this foursome what they do not know at this time is that for them, Lisbon will be the end of the world as they know it. After their fateful meeting their lives will change forever. 

What we find out is that Pete and Edward start to go on strange adventures together. And in true Brokeback Mountain fashion the two develop a strange relationship together in their isolation from their wives. Edward finds happiness with Pete. Edward also realizes that to have any happiness in Portugal of all places, is bittersweet. "All around us, all you can see is suffering and fear, suffering and panic. And then when you consider that people here, they're the lucky ones, just because they managed to get this far ... What right do I have to be happy. Yet I am. I'm not ashamed of it, either." Edward, Pete, and their wives are safe and yet they are still feeding on the suffering and pain of others. They're elated that they are safe. They feel giddy at knowing what the rest of Europe is feeling like at this moment. 

The second part is entitled Somewhere. Along with the ritual of drinking absinthe - the sugar cube, the slotted spoon - comes the ritual of making excuses. Through the aftermath-absinthe haze, Pete struggles to understand what happened the night before between him and Edward ... the only true evidence is sand that seems to spill from his shoes, the hair on his body, every crevice ... sand spilling like lice, clogging up the bathtub drain ... evidence of an affair that will inevitably change the course of all of their futures. 

Nowhere. Here we find out more about Edward. He is mercurial. "You could reach for him, and sometimes you would grab hold of him. But sometimes all you would grab hold of was a reflection of a reflection in a revolving door." Edward was capricious. Having never been fired from a job he was under the impression that employers could be just as forgiving as mothers. Edward incites and exhibits jealousy, pride, and passion. Here is a novel that is unpredictably sexually charged and carries always a tension among its chief characters. In a sort of purgatory of Portugal we have Pete falling for Edward although he can't understand why. Edward reminds me of the character "Lady" in Fin and Lady. Described as mercurial and capricious but charismatic and enchanting as well. Unfortunately we start to see that the people we love in life - the carefree, mercurial, capricious sorts - are often the ones plagued with depression and who are ultimately unsatisfied with some part of who they are and what life is. 

In this we part we discover more about who Edward and Iris are together. They had a child who they then institutionalized before Edward's mother rescued her. We find out later that their daughter actually only had autism which unfortunately was not recognized at the time. It is said, however, that their daughter probably led a better life with her grandmother than she would have with her own parents, Edward and Iris. Iris also, we find, loses her sexual attraction to Edward in that "her fear of conceiving another idiot exceeded her fear of losing her husband to another woman, though only by a hair." So they moved to France - just as Pete and Julia had moved to France to get away from their own problems (and family) back in America.

In this part we see resentment building between the foursome. Wives against their husbands, husbands against their wives. Edward against Pete, Pete against Edward. Iris and Julia experience a sort of alienation of their husbands' affections. Iris is described at feeling at home nowhere whereas Edward can fit in anywhere and make people love him anywhere. However, Edward has a habit of "becoming besotted with a place until his infatuation soured into boredom, his boredom into depression, and he suffered what Iris called an 'episode'." Iris often excused Edward's episodes with the idea that he was a genius; as a very smart man his genius must excuse his mental illness. Eventually Edward tries recompose himself at a place in Switzerland where he is diagnosed as being neurotic. Him and Iris eventually start writing novels together as a way to pass their time - usually mystery/detective novels written with the pseudonym Xavier Legrand. 

Iris and Edward continue on their roller coaster life - not knowing what to do or what will become of themselves. Iris keeps Edward alive and he despises her for it at times. Their relationship is sexually uncomfortable and with something akin to prostitution Edward encourages Iris to sleep with other men and he lives vicariously through her asking her to describe the encounters to him afterward. 

This novel begs the question of its readers - everyone has problems but whose are worse? When Edward and Iris finally start to get their relationship back on track the Germans come and then six months later in Lisbon, Pete comes. And so Iris has not only Pete to contend with but the the stress of them having to leave their expatriate lives in France and move back to a country that no longer feels like home. 

Iris, knowing full well what is going on, warns Pete that he can never tell Julia about his affair with Edward - that it would crush her. And so Pete struggles with his feelings for this other man (Edward), the obvious contempt felt for him by Iris, and his wife Julia who further retreats into herself and her endless games of solitaire played with a mini-deck of cards that she carries with her everywhere. To try and keep Edward and Pete from engaging in their illicit love affair, Iris often forces Edward to carry around their aging dog, Daisy - who quite honestly becomes the only truly likable character in the book. "Illicit lovers understand better than most the malaise of having to carry on private business in public. It is like trying to fit yourself into the last stripe of cool shade on a hot sidewalk. If we had no alternative, we would take refuge in men's toilets, our pants around our ankles and Edward holding Daisy under his left arm like a pocketbook." All the while Iris is trying to entertain Julia and keep her from retreating like Edward sometimes does with his "episodes." 

When I started reading this book I was shocked. It didn't even come close to what my original expectations were. This is not a WWII story, it is not a love story, it's not even a story of survival. I've mentioned it before but it is a story about purgatory - emotional, physical, and romantic - purgatory. I did not have a desire to keep reading at one point but then I found myself drawn in by the odd sexual dynamics and relationship tensions. I found I had to keep reading. I found myself coming home from a long day of work and even exhausted I'd force myself to read a couple of pages - to try and figure out where the story was going. As previously stated the most likable character in the novel is the dog, Daisy. As Pete gets disappointed that Julia hasn't already killed herself, Daisy gets up on his laps and starts to lick his face. " 'Oh Daisy,' I said stroking her neck. 'When all is said and done, you're the one I'll miss most of all.'" To this, Edward replies ... "She's the one we'll all miss most of all." What does it say about a novel when the most beloved character is an old dog? Witness the indiscretions of its owners and their follies ... Daisy stays true to supporting human nature.

In another way this book reminds me of The Dinner by Herman Koch. I'm not sure exactly why ... perhaps it is the plot of two couples getting together - two couples who probably don't belong together - who are discussing matters that will gravely impact their futures.

Everywhere. Julia kills herself. Julia turned out, for me, to be one of the more interesting characers, but in all reality she was a character we never really got to know. Her story was not really one that our narrator, Pete (her husband), was willing or inclined to tell. I thought she was crazy and annoying when she was kind of right all along. Julia was misunderstood initially .... but in an intimate scene between her and Pete I think all women can recognize that feeling of just wanted to be touched and loved.

Julia and Edward were actually quite alike as we come to realize. Both in a situation, both experiencing "episodes," both ultimately displeased with life. "And she was dead-set on doing it - if you'll pardon the pun. Do you know what the Elevator operator told us? That she dove. Head first. So that was one piece of advice from Iris she took to heart."

A story placed in WWII, not about love, not about survival, not about ... anything really.

This story is not about the war because that story has been told before. Rather this story is about purgatory. About not wanting to rehash the past, being stuck in the uncertain present, and literally deathly afraid of the uncertain future. The Nazis did not get the Jewish Julia ... being alive is what "got" her. And the sad thing is we don't know why ... I'm sure that is feeling many families feel when a loved one kills themselves with no blunt explanation.

I feel like there is much more I could add to this review - and perhaps someday I'll add something to it. Is it worth reading? Yes ... in time. It is not something I would add to your urgent-need-to-read-soon-book list, but eventually when you have time and a quiet corner - yes. Yes then, then it is worth reading. Unfortunately the book is somewhat anticlimactic as we find out within the first 20 pages or so that Julia will die. The only question then is how does she die? And unfortunately that reveal doesn't appease the predictions. In fact it is very matter-of-fact and not at all revealing. Yes. Julia dies. Just like the two couples said earlier ... it's better to dive head first off a roof than any other way - you  will die faster. At times in this book I wished I'd get rid of it faster. But it's worth a good discussion, in my opinion.