Refreshing My Spirit

We just returned from our (mostly) annual family trip to Twin Lakes just outside Bridgeport, California.  It is a trip I look forward to all year for many reasons, mostly because it is simply one of the most beautiful, awe-inspiring places I have ever been.

The High Sierras are, after all, the land that Ansel Adams fell in love with and photographed extensively.  It's no wonder he became captivated with my beloved Sierra Mountain range.  The topography is simultaneously beautiful and fearsome with thrusting mountain peaks extending beyond the tree line and valleys nestling crystal-clear blue lakes.  The forest is lush and healthy and the wildlife abundant.  It's unspoiled nature--and "civilization" is only a few miles away.


We've traipsed through the eastern side of the Sierras visiting Sequoia National Park, but Twin Lakes's Annett's Mono Village is our favorite campground.

This year was marked by some interesting afternoon weather.  Raindrops greeted us as we walked the campground to find just the perfect spot for the seven families we vacationed with.  It was refreshing and beautiful, subtly cleansing.  Each afternoon of our eight-day stay we had afternoon showers, with a whopper of a thunderstorm one day.  However, even though we were frustrated by the thunder and lightning that limited our lake play, we welcomed the rain because of the severe drought conditions the Sierras have been experiencing.

In truth, this year, the mountains were a sad reminder of the drought our state is enduring.  The snow pack, which we can usually see so clearly, was severely diminished with only a few small glaciers still in sight.  So, the rain was a blessing.

The cooler rainy conditions also invited more wildlife into the campgrounds.  Deer always stroll through the campgrounds, but this year we even had daytime bear visitors.  No, bears are not the cuddly, cute things we think they are.  They are ferocious and intimidating, even the smallest ones.  One afternoon we were entertained by a young cinnamon-colored bear that went from camp to camp tearing through coolers, trash bags, and even ripped a neighbor's tent in search of a snack.

Everyone in our group enjoyed playing in the water in the canoe, inner tubes, SeaDoos, the boat, and splashing around throwing toys for Kevin, Paisley, and Cosie.

And the kids played some raucous volleyball and ladder golf:

Nights were somewhat subdued as we were not allowed campfires--no flying embers to catch the gorgeous forest afire.  Charcoal fires were permitted, but for food preparation purposes only.  However, the final night we enjoyed Chuck's famous "biscuits-on-a-stick" stuffed with Nutella, apple pie filling, whipped cream, and anything else we could think of.  

Mom Brown and I even (finally) went into Bridgeport Sunday morning to the Infant of Prague Catholic Church for mass.  Now that we finally know what time mass is, I will be looking forward to celebrating mass there again next year.

There were no accidental trips to Lake Tahoe, no near-choking, no lost car keys.  There was only one bear incident that I'm sure Chuck won't soon forget.  Mostly, there are lots of memories with new and old friends.

Most of all, though, I was so thankful for another safe family trip that refreshed my spirit.  It's so incredibly difficult to be in this beautiful place and think that this part of creation is not evidence of God's existence and goodness.  Until next year...

Book Review: The Leaves Are Falling: A Novel by Lucy Beckett

Book Review:  The Leaves Are Falling:  A Novel by Lucy Beckett

I have read numerous novels and nonfiction works about World War II.  It is a fascinating period in world history and marks the end of the Modern movement in the arts.  It is simultaneously heartbreaking because of the the lows human beings sank to and awe-inspiring because of the selflessness and sacrifice of so many men, women, and children.  It is, in truth, one period of history with which I am fascinated, and I have devoured as many stories as I can—fictional and nonfictional—about humans confronted with some of the worst situations we can create in this era.  Yet, as much as I have read about World War II, I find I have always focused on the Allied forces vs. Germany, but there is so much more to this era. 

So, it was with appreciation, excitement, and a visceral cringe that I approached The Leaves Are Falling by Lucy Beckett, published by Ignatius Press.  And, it is with indebtedness, relief, and questions that I have finished this novel about the impact of the Poland-German-Russia-Lithuania component of World War II. 

Beckett writes the novel in two parts, with two prologues, to introduce the stories of two men of the Halpern family—the son’s first and the father’s second.  The stories these men, Polish Jews, recount is of the tenuous existence of not only European Jews, but of the country of Poland itself.  Linking the two seemingly separate stories is the bridge story of the temporally brief, but rich relationship between a writer and the son, Joseph Halpern.

Joseph’s story of being orphaned—truly his whole family is eradicated—is filled with neglected history.  In fact, his story often contradicts the story told by the victors about which country, ruler, or commander perpetrated which massacre.  Joseph seeks to set the story straight, to seek truth in historical accounts, so that his experiences and his family members’ deaths are validated.

The second half of the story is the story of Dr. Jacob Halpern’s imprisonment by the Russians, fictionalized by the unnamed writer at Joseph’s request, to provide for Joseph some idea of what his father endured and ultimately how he met his end at the hands of the Russians.  

Things I Love:

1.  Quest for Truth:  Both through the men’s stories and through Dr. Halpern’s conversations with fellow prisoners about faith, this story is concerned with Truth (capital “T”), with dignity, and with the reality that individuals matter.  This is really the cornerstone of the entire novel and I appreciate the rawness of this aspect of the story.

2.  Characterization:  Beckett creates unique voices for Joseph and the unnamed writer, as well as for Dr. Halpern, his interrogator, and the rabbi.  Joseph’s speech patterns in particular caused me to hear his voice as the narrator throughout more than half the novel.  Such rich and moving attention to detail through Beckett’s careful characterization is endearing.

3.  History:  I hear the echo Winston Churchill saying “History is written by the victors” throughout this novel.  The winners are ignored.  Those who are pawns in the bigger game are ignored.  There is so much history in this novel of which I was only in the most cursory way aware that has caused me to become so much more curious about the things I don’t know:  the ways history has been manipulated to represent the “truth” (small “t”) we come to know and the ways the victors attempt to minimize their parts in their less savory deeds.

4.  Values:  Joseph and Jacob Halpern are only two of Beckett’s characters who exhibit values their moms and grandmothers would be proud of.  Even in the face of outrageous events, they never resort to vengeance or hatred.  However, they are not the only ones to exhibit courage, selflessness, charity, and honor.

5.  Appreciation of Intellect:  Beckett emphasizes appreciating intellectual activities, especially difficult intellectual questions, that I find incredibly appealing.  She doesn’t back down from serious conversations and, especially with Jacob Halpern, tackles the existential dilemma of the Modern man:  the existence of God.  Beckett allows several characters to wrestle with their position in the universe and the science vs. religion binary people still wrestle with.  Observing the characters engaging in this struggle is beautiful and Beckett boldly captured this element of humanity.

6.  Language:  Beckett builds a beautiful interrogation of language—etiquette, bigotry, expectations—that I see echoed in how she uses language to create her characters.  This is especially true in Joseph’s half of the story.

7.  Nods to Russian authors and works:  Mention of The Brothers Karamazov and War and Peace and Anton Chekhov’s works thrilled me.  Many of these works I had read; some are still on my to-read list.  Now, I am reinvigorated to visit these works.

8.  Contemporary political tie-in:  The final conversation between the writer and Joseph stunned me for its contemporary references and insights.  Especially in light of the recent happenings between Ukraine and Russia, Israel and Iran, I am intrigued by how many of these conflicts have roots in unresolved issues stemming from World War II. 

Things I Like Less:

1.  Title Significance:  I felt I didn’t have a good grasp on the significance of the title until the last few pages, at which point it became clear to me.  I am concerned that the subtlety of the title’s significance causes the richness of the metaphor it creates to become lost.  I would appreciate a better building of the title’s significance throughout the text and I think there is plenty of room in which to do this through both Jacob’s and Joseph’s stories.

2.  Incompleteness of Joseph’s story:  Although we do find out more about Joseph’s story, I feel somewhat let down that we don’t learn more of Joseph’s story after his marriage.  This left me feeling incomplete, but perhaps that was intentional.

After having finished this novel, I find myself musing about the characters somewhat more than after finishing other novels.  I keep asking myself, “what if…” and “what about…,” questions which I cannot find answers for.  I keep wanting a happier ending for Jacob, and for Joseph, too.  However, Beckett gave Joseph the happiest of endings he thought he could possibly receive and, while it was a fictional truth, Joseph found Truth in the homage rising from the contemptuous situation Jacob was placed in. 

Although filled with a lot of traditionally historical dates and places, at the heart of the story—both men’s stories—is the quest for the truth, and it is this heart of the story that compels me to rank this book among my favorites in historical fiction dealing with World War II. 

 Source:

Beckett, Lucy.  The Falling of Leaves.  San Francisco:  Ignatius Press, 2014.  eBook.

The Best, Greatest, Newest is...Boring??

You've seen or heard it, I'm sure, but have you noticed it?  Everyone is talking about or promoting the "best," the "most," the "newest," the "craziest," etc., often using different phrases to communicate the same idea.   We seem to have a never-ending desire to one-up.  Our collective quest for the next "-est" consumes a lot of our conscious time, but it simultaneously is limiting the richness of our lives.

What do I mean by this?

Like so many other things in our lives, this is a little bit complicated.

These superlatives—words indicating the "highest quality," "supreme," or "extreme" of something—abound in our day-to-day language, both verbal and written.  They're so ubiquitous, in fact, that we don't notice how often we hear or use these words.  It's kind of like Californians’ use of the word "like":  to Californians, it's not noticeable at all, just part of how we talk, while to those from outside the Golden State, it's obnoxious.

Because these words have become so overused, we've developed new words and phrases to help us one-up the old superlatives.  So, we now have phrases like "to the fullest" or "to the extreme" or "so amazing" or "just fabulous."  The problem isn't with the words themselves.  They, like all other words in our language, have an appropriate time and place for use.  The problem that I have noticed is that people are using these words when they can't think of anything more profound or interesting to say.  We say things like "I like to live life to the fullest" instead of something like "I like to savor every moment of the life I have been given, sucking  the juice of life from every fiber of everything I do" or "I like to live my life spending as much time with my family (or insert nature, friends, music--whatever) as I can so that I will build a life of meaningful memories" or some other fresher, more accurate, more meaningful phrase.  Part of this is that we live in a sound-bite culture in which we perceive brevity as more desirable; part of this also is that we are losing the richness of the intricate language we have developed.  As a result, our contemporary language has become cliché, and we, when we use these words without thinking more deeply about what it is we're saying, have become boring.

Further, when we seek only the best or most of something, we fail to acknowledge or appreciate the shades of gray created by those things that don't rise to the level of the best or most.  There are a lot of wonderful things going on that are not of the highest quality in the strictest of senses, but nonetheless provide enormous enjoyment, insight, and enrichment for many people.  Our appreciation of those goings-on should not be limited because they haven't risen to the level of best or most; we shouldn't ignore these events or people just because they don't rise to the level of best or most.  

What we identify as best or most is incredibly subjective anyway.  What I think is fantastic someone else (who may or may not have more knowledge or experience) may think is awful.  The criteria we use to distinguish the good from the bad is subjective, too, again often depending on experience or knowledge of the event, person, or object.  As a writer and as the daughter of an artist, I can recognize that there is a certain amount of objectivity we can use to assess or judge the merits of anything.  I can talk about diction, flow, story arc, characterization, and the artist can talk about composition, color choice, shading and lighting. Virtually anything we assess has fairly concrete, identifiable characteristics or hallmarks.  However, the ultimate goal of the written word and art and music and performance—indeed anything humans create—is the emotion and memories they evoke, the push and pull of feelings they provoke, the excitement they elicit, the insights they procure.  

I am not espousing an appreciation of mediocrity.  I am suggesting we become more discerning about what deserves the superlatives, what deserves our attention and applause, and what deserves better language than we have used to describe it.  Thoughtfulness is what I'm after.  Freshness of description is what I seek.  A renewed interest in the purposeful, meaningful use of our communication tools is what I want.

While I don't for one minute expect people to walk around in 2014 speaking to one another like Shakespeare or George Eliot or Charlotte Brontë or Charles Dickens (although that would be WONDERFUL), I would revel in originality of descriptive speech that is more appropriate and attuned to the discussions created by that language about the things we discuss or describe.  Clichés are initially interesting because we recognize them, but they are cliché because they are boring.  Let's not be boring; let's appreciate the whole gamut of possibilities and avoid—whenever possible—the one-up game.                                                            Illustration by Peter Schrenk

Source:  

"Plus ça Change? Not Quite." The Economist. The Economist Newspaper, 11 Aug. 2007. Web. 03 July 2014.