The Danish Girl by David Ebershoff is a work of fiction loosely based on the true story of Lili Elbe who began life as the artist Einar Wegenar and his wife, the artist Gerda Wegenar (Greta in the book). Einar was one of the first men to undergo several sex change operations in the 1930's and the book tells the story of Einar's transformation into Lili, the loving support she received from her wife and a number of friends and family members. It deals very sensitively with the realization of her sexuality and her sex change, the impact it had on their marriage.
It's touching and poignant in all the right ways and deals honestly with a loving and, ultimately, healthy relationship.
It was really nice to read a book on this topic that is so much more sensitive, calm and reasonable than the tabloid fodder that surrounds the current hot topic of Caitlyn Jenner, et al.
A far less dramatic change (but equally important in this home) involves Oscar finishing school, returning home to live and figuring out the intricacies of living together in a home that really consists of two adults living and working together and seeing how it all works out. His first serious job search is underway - that's a navigation in its own right!
A while back, my sister Marjory gave me some yarn that she said came from the home of her daughter-in-law's (Kat's) mum who had passed away. I usually knit with fingering weight so I was at a bit of a loss over what to do with this heavy, fuzzy yarn. In the end I decided to make something for Kat.
The pattern is 'Campside' by Alicia Plummer. I used larger needles than the pattern called for because of the weight of the yarn and came out with a rather large, cozy shawl - perfect for throwing over the shoulders when there's a nip in the air.
Luckily, that shouldn't be for a while yet. The shawl is all boxed up and ready to send to Kat --- but it will linger here a bit longer while the striking Canada Post workers resolve their issues. On the whole, this is not a strike that will have any real inconvenience attached to it for me. In fact, this time I will learn to pay my bills on line and, aside from sending the odd parcel, Canada Post will have gone the way of the dinosaur for me.
I recently re-read a book that I remember thinking was really, really great. Unfortunately, it did not pass the test of time for me.
The Hope is a work of historical fiction that covers the history of Israel from the War of Independence of 1948 through the Six-Day War of 1967. I would like to say I loved this book but, unfortunately, I can't. It is obvious that Wouk has extensively researched the battles, the history and the politics of that region at that time. The sections of the book that dealt with this are exciting and enormously interesting. He should have stopped there.
However, historical fiction needs a cast of characters to bring the work to life and here Wouk falls short. The four (4) fictional men are reasonably well written - especially when it comes to their roles as soldiers. I can't say the same for the women characters. There is plenty of attention paid to how they fill out their uniforms but not much on how they contributed to history. All four 'relationships' felt forced and on the whole, unbelievable - disappointing from the man who brought us Marjorie Morningstar, War and Remembrance and The Winds of War. On the whole, the fictional characters and their parts in the story are rather uninteresting and don't really add much to the overall story. I tended to find them distracting rather than adding to the historical account.
In my opinion, you would do better to read James Michener's 'The Source' or Leon Uris' 'Exodus' for historical fiction on this topic. For a non-fiction account, try 'Israel: A History' by Martin Gilbert.
Elie Wiesel, author, historian, professor, politician and historian died on July 2nd 2016.
The news brought a tear to my eye. I was surprised how sad I felt. I have read most of Wiesel's books. Each one is powerful and moving. It is absolutely appalling to me that within 24 hours of this great man's death, the internet is buzzing with people - even Jews - who are eager to shred this man's reputation. Shame on you!
I re-read the book 'Night' - arguably one of Wiesel's best known books. It can be a quick read - only 120 pages, but powerful and enormously moving.
"Surely it was all a nightmare? An unimaginable nightmare?", reads a line from Elie Wiesel's Holocaust memoir Night. When delving into this book, one almost wishes that it were a nightmare, a horror novel. Even the worst author's imagination could not contrive of the evil contained in these small pages... And yet it is no nightmare. It is a horrifically, true story. Night recounts the tortuous days Wiesel spent at the concentration camps Auschwitz and Buchenwald as a young teenager during World War II. With starvation, sickness, exhaustion and the constant presence of crematoriums the story spirals downward as Wiesel loses his family, his childhood and his faith - only his survival instinct remains when the camps are finally liberated. The shocking atrocities are difficult and literally sickening to read but at the same time, the truth of the story echoes out that it needs to be told, needs to be read, needs to be remembered. Wiesel's powerful words construct a very tragic book, but it is a book that will leave all readers with tremendous respect for him and all those who survived.
Apart from taking time off to have my kids, I have gone to work pretty much every day of my adult life (and who am I kidding - raising kids is work. As far as I’m concerned, it counts). So, when retirement came around last month, I hadn’t given a whole lot of thought as to how to fill the days.
I started out with doing jobs that had been put aside for years - you know, cleaning the garage; getting into the grout in the shower; organizing the cupboard under the kitchen sink. But really, is that what retirement is all about?
A little something about me. I have three hobbies. I knit. I read. I make soup. Riveting, I know, but it’s what I like. One thing is clear - it makes for a sedentary lifestyle.
My job kept me on my feet - often 12 hours at a time. Without that opportunity to move, I had a very real chance of ballooning to 300 pounds and staying there (really). No one in their right mind would ever call me slender or svelte. Zaftig would more readily come to mind. But I always managed to keep things just enough in control that I don’t have to wear a caftan or a muumuu, unless I want to. So, my sister Mirjam and I have started walking pretty much every day. We found a trail that we really like near the house and every morning we head out. Can I tell you - the first day we trudged that walk in 1 hour and 7 minutes. That afternoon and evening I was in pain. But guess what - the next day we did it again. Fast forward about 3 weeks. This morning we did it in 53 minutes and 20 seconds!! And we talked while we walked!! If we can keep that going, I might get a little 5 pound waist weight to wear while I walk (I believe in starting small).
An interesting thing about the walk is seeing things that I didn’t even know the city had to offer. Did you know that Toronto has orioles? Neither did I - until I saw them. I was so surprised that I even posted on Facebook to see whether I was imagining it - but, yes. Toronto has orioles! And Toronto has turtles - great big ones! Mulberry trees are dropping their fruit right now and I know where to find the wild raspberries and grapes when they’re ready. There are lilies, cornflowers, Queen Anne’s Lace, snapdragons, roses and so many more - all five minutes from the place where I have lived for over 20 years. Who knew?
I recently read a rather good book - ‘Burial Rites’ by Hannah Kent. Let me tell you a bit about it.
In 1829, Natan Ketilsson and his guest were brutally murdered in his home. Natan’s maidservant, Agnes Magnusdottir and two others were charged with and convicted of the murders. Agnes became the last person to be executed for murder in Iceland. While awaiting execution, Agnes was was billeted with a family on an isolated farm in northern Iceland and she received spiritual comfort and advice from a young pastor, Thorvardur Jonsson. This is all a matter of public record.
“Burial Rites” is set during Agnes’s last few months. Slowly, a tentative relationship develops between Agnes, her reluctant ‘family’ and her pastor. Agnes tells her story as she sees it - sugar-coating nothing, asking for no sympathy. Even so, by the time Agnes walks to her execution, sympathy and regret are exactly what we come to feel for her.
Hannah Kent writes a wonderfully moving novel. The event itself is thoroughly researched, but it is almost secondary to the depiction of the harsh life of the poor in isolated, northern Iceland in the winter. The author succeeds in defining Agnes not just as 'murderer’ but as a human being in the eyes of her pastor, her host family (I’m not sure what to call them - her jailers?) and our own.
Who a person is and what a person does is not always the same thing.
‘Burial Rites’ is not always an easy book - but very, very worth the read.
