Curtain Creek Farm

            My friend handed me a book about two weeks ago. She didn’t say anything except, “I think you’ll like the writing.” She was right. I did. I love my friends—both the book ones and the real live human ones. And I really love it when these friendships overlap. The book my real-life human friend handed me was Curtain Creek Farm by Nance van Winckel. Since my friend didn’t give me much information about the book, I didn’t have any expectations or real ideas about what I would be reading. I don’t often have this experience, but I enjoy it when it happens. It’s sometimes nice to go into a situation with no prior knowledge.

            Curtain Creek Farm is a collection of eight stories, each told by a different woman. These women live or visit Curtain Creek Farm a commune started in the sixties by a group of anarchists whose only rule is “no violence.” The narrators range in age and cover many different themes, but many of the stories focus on ideas of love, place, grief, and acceptance. Throughout the stories, the reader can see the commune grow and change. However, the focus remains on the characters. Mostly we learn about the commune by seeing how the setting affects the characters' development and interaction. 

            I enjoyed these stories immensely. They contain humor, grief, happiness, toil, loss, change, so many different things, but no apathy. These are women working to make life meaningful. They don’t always succeed—sometimes they can’t seem to find a way forward. Nevertheless, they keep trying. They learn from past mistakes. See the beauty around them. Help others. I don’t know. These stories felt rejuvenating in a way. After reading them I feel like I’ve been in the woods camping or relaxing in a bath. Participating in something soothing. These stories are not always happy. In fact, they contain their fair share of pain, but they have a contentedness about them. If you’re looking for a good and enjoyable read, I highly recommend Curtain Creek Farm.

Giovanni's Room

I'm mad at the world right now. I'm angry at all of my professors, friends, bookstore salespeople, really anyone who knows how much I love to read or has listened to what I like to read and never suggested I read James Baldwin. I mean, I get it. I know I will never be able to read everything, and professors have to pick and choose carefully, and my friends might not have read Baldwin, and I need to be my own hero. But really?! I love the early- to mid- 19th century artistic movements the best, and I only recently discovered Baldwin for myself? Not cool, World, not cool.

Okay, now that that is out of my system, let's look at Giovanni's Room. It was published in 1956 and follows the story of a young man's desperate and sad love life in Paris. Why is his love life desperate and sad you ask? Because he is gay, engaged to a woman, living with a man, and quite self-loathing. Not only is this novel tackling taboos of homosexuality, Giovanni's Room is beautiful. The language is lyrical. Baldwin creates believable characters. The plot is easy to follow, but not boring. All-in-all this novel represents great fiction.

Giovanni's Room thematically investigates loss, sexuality, culture, and the individual's response to outside stimuli. I want to explain how it took me through such a range of emotions, but I think the best way to say it is that this novel will make you feel. It will be different for each reader, but I don't think you could read this novel and not feel something--anger, hope, fear, love, joy, sadness, something. Baldwin makes you feel the absolute hopelessness and pure beauty that exist simultaneously in the world and in the act of falling in love. I really can't recommend this novel enough.

It might have taken me a long time to find my way to James Baldwin, but now that I have, I'm planning on making my way through his work. One down, eighteen to go. I can't wait! 

What I Read...

Last week I read Neil Gaiman's The Ocean at the End of the Lane. I had pre-ordered the novel because it's Neil Gaiman, of course I wanted to read it.

This is a short read. I read it in a few hours. And immediately wanted to start it again. In fact, I enjoyed it so much, I've been re-reading all of Gaiman's work just so I can continue to be immersed in the creepy, beautiful worlds he creates.

The story is about a middle aged man who returns to his childhood town for a funeral. While there, he is drawn to the old farm at the end of the lane where the biggest adventure/horror of his childhood took place.

Gaiman captures the magic and terror that are childhood. These two are inseparable, and Gaiman allows them to interweave in this story. The book is beautiful. And terrifying. Haunting--in the best sense. It stays with you. It's hard to pin down, and if you talk about it too much, you crush it. It starts slowly and builds quickly.

I write in my books. I take notes, have arguments with the author, characters, and sometimes myself. I underline, star, and use punctuation in the margins like high-fives. It's part of the reading process for me. But every now-and-again, I come across a book that demands I put the pencil down and simply consume. The Ocean at the End of the Lane is such a book. I will reread this book, and when I do, I'm sure I will write in the margins. I will underline and star and everything else, but the first read held me so tightly I couldn't begin that type of dissection. The story-telling gripped me. Do yourself a favor: read this book. Go to your library, or your bookstore, or your friend's house, and when you're done, come back here and talk to me about it.