Some books are like pillows. You can not get a sense of their shape and substance no matter how hard you grip them. Yet they comfort. Books like these are usually very good books Such is The Folded Clock, a diary of two years in the life of author Heidi Julavits. (Ignore the reviews: this is not the diary of a sick woman.)
From this book I learned about the Wansee / final solution conference and New England heritage families and Edith Wharton’s husband and possibly poisonous apricot kernels and giornate and the trap door in the road way of the Brooklyn Bridge. (This Heidi has had a great life so far!)
The diary is mostly chronological and shows the musings of a writer’s mind as she travels through her days. She examines our shared secret thoughts: the real cracks that exist between between even the closest of friends; imaginings of the worst case scenarios for our kids’ lives; and the guilt of keeping a gift you bought for someone else. She boldly lays out uncomfortable truths - that women praise the beauty of unattractive women; that they date men to try on new worlds and identities; that they lose their filters as they age in order to be seen.
I highly recommend this book that appears to have no reason to be. But is, in the most glorious of ways.
Book 2
No comments:
Post a Comment