All the Light We Cannot See

all the light we cannot see

This past weekend, our “Best Book Club Ever” got together to discuss “All the Light We Cannot See” by Anthony Doerr.  This is one of the best books I’ve read in quite some time.

And in honor of  Veteran’s Day today, I thought it befitting to share a bit about a beautifully written tale revolving around a subject so deplorable as war….  World War II in particular…. one of the darkest periods in our history.  Yet one that needs discussed….  and one I came to a deeper understanding of through this novel.

Our book club, which consists of 26 men and women, gave this book an average rating of 8.5 out of 10, which is one of the best ratings this eclectic group of ages and backgrounds has given a book.

Though you can certainly read a good summary of this Best Book of the Month on Amazon,  I thought I would help spread the word because I feel so passionately about this book.

The thing I especially loved,  for maybe the first time in reading a book I have to say – or at least in a long time, is the true beauty of the writing.

Doerr has a magical way of heightening our senses through the most gorgeous metaphors.  Maybe I am more aware now that I am trying to write a bit more myself, but this is a book that I didn’t want to rush through to finish as I often do because I am typically reading a book for the story – not the writing.

But this book was one I wanted to absorb into my pores.

I savored each word in each sentence.

The descriptive similes the author used, such as expressing the passing of time in a number of heartbeats, gave me a deeper appreciation for the most simple things in life.

It’s no wonder it took Doerr TEN YEARS to write this book!  When you create statements like this:

“And is it so hard to believe that souls might also travel those paths?  That her father and Etienne and Madame Manec and the German boy named Werner Pfenning might harry the sky in flocks, like egrets, like terns, like starlings?  That great shuttles of souls might fly about, faded but audible if you listen closely enough?  They flow above the chimneys, ride the sidewalks, slip through your jacket and shirt and breastbone and lungs, and pass out through the other side, the air a library and the record of every life lived, every sentence spoken, every word transmitted still reverberating within it.”

Are you gasping and sighing as I am even though I have read this many times?

It is such a good thing that Doerr created such short “chapters” that allow us the time to breathe and sigh and let the words sink in and absorb them into our souls.

Though confused a bit at first at how each “chapter” alternates between the tale of a blind French girl and a young German soldier during World War II, it slowly

and methodically

and heartbreakingly beautifully

comes together as the story goes on.

I loved the way Doerr heightened my own senses by expressing the most minute of details one becomes aware of when losing our sense of sight.

If you are a a reader, I hope you will consider this story that illuminates the ways, against all odds, people try to be good to one another.

And while we are on “the subject” of Veterans and Veteran’s Day, thank you to all of those that have served and are currently serving in our armed forces, and thank you to those whose lives we’ve lost in their pursuit of our freedom.

Cheers & Hugs,

Jodi

 

There’s no place like home

“It wasn’t a dream….. it was a place……..”

#Writing101 Assignment #2:  A Room with a View (or just a view):  We’re all drawn to certain places. If you had the power to get somewhere — anywhere — where would you go right now? For your twist, focus on building a setting description.

I made it through Assignment #1 in #Writing101.  So stressful – yet so rewarding.  Thank you to so many of you for the wonderful comments and encouragement.

Today’s assignment is to write about a place – any place.  Where you would go right now if you had the power to go ANYwhere?

It’s a Monday evening.  The end to a beautiful, perfect end-of-Summer, beginning -of-Fall day.  A hectic, but rewarding work day.   A relaxing, enjoyable evening spent with some of my favorite people.  Monday nights mean my buddy Janet joins us for dinner.

I had meetings up until right before “dinner” time, so Marty was so awesome to help pull it all together while I packed for a business trip and looked forward to enjoying some spaghetti and meatballs with Janet and Marty and Nick, and “unwind” from my day.

Janet and I talked about my first #Writing101 assignment, watched the Season Premiere of “Dancing with the Stars,” and contemplated what I would write about for my next post:  Where would we go if we could go anywhere right now?

I asked Janet where it would be for her.

She thought for a bit.  Then she mentioned Greece, Alaska, various places she’s been and loved.

She asked me what I was thinking about.

I told her the first thing that came to mind was Heaven.

Wouldn’t it be cool to go there and visit, talk to some of our loved ones (Grandma, Grandpap)?  It would be great to see there is hope and beauty that lies ahead.  Great to know a paradise awaits.

Then I said it would be intriguing to go back in time to Paris or Germany (or anywhere) circa 1944 – during World War II – and experience what people were going through.  This is totally because I am reading “All the Light we Cannot See,” by Anthony Doerr, and completely enthralled by it.

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be an 18-year old boy drafted to Vietnam.  Babies killing babies.   As a mother of boys, this has always tugged at and broke my heart.

But to happier places.

Where would I go if I had the power to go anywhere?

You know what?  For me, it is not necessarily a “place,” but it is a feeling.  It is who I am with.  It is how I feel when I am in “that place.”

And after considering all the places in the world and all the periods of time, I came to the most boring of all conclusions…………….

There is no place I’d rather be than home………..

Home is where so many happy memories have been forged.

The home we are in now is one we built.  It is the one that Marty and I planned so easily when we perused through house plans and presented each other with mirror images of the same house.

But more than that – it is many “houses” that are home.

My BFF Jill knows me so well when she presented me with a beautiful hand-painted plaque for Christmas that simply states, “What I love best about my home is who I share it with.”

home

Funny thing she hadn’t realized was that I loved that saying SO much that I had already bought a plaque with just that saying on it, and had it hanging on my photo gallery wall.

Home is where we can be ourselves.

It is where my couch cushion is indented on the left from the way I curl up and lean in it.

It is where our oak kitchen table has nicks and worn spots that represent hundreds of meals, games, holidays, discussions with family and friends.

It is where I cook Thanksgiving turkey dinners and bake Christmas cookies.

It is where I host “Girlfriend Camp” and where my boys have brought friends for football games, hot tub parties, sleep overs, dates.

gfc

It is where I know my hubby is when I snuggle up next to him at night – feeling content, safe, protected, comfortable, loved.

It is where my Dad came back to me, where other family members rekindled their love for me.

dad

It is where I watched the 9-11 events unfold and embraced my family when they came home after school and work.

Home is where the people I love the most waited for me while Jill took me out to greet me upon our return with a “SURPRISE” 50th birthday party last year.

50 nick

50

It is where we hosted our son and daughter-in-law’s wedding rehearsal dinner and friends gathered in my kitchen to help host and serve.

jake and colleen rehearsalfriends rehearsal dinner

My happiest memories are those spent at “home” – whether it was Marty’s and my first humble 12X60 mobile home when I was 19 and he was 23 to our little ranch in Fox Run surrounded by lifelong friends raising our little ones to the two houses we built, the memories we created, the lessons we learned, the people that helped and the people we shared with.

Marty has always said a home is not the bricks and mortar, and I have come to realize that is so true.  For a man who lived his entire life until our marriage in the same brick home, he is amazingly profound in his statement.

The best thing about our home is who we share it with…
and there is no place like home.

Cheers & Hugs,

Jodi