300 days of beauty, day 4

I'm a huge advocate for reading "old books," those books which have stood the test of time and live to see another printing press. Of course, Louisa May Alcott is hardly an unknown author, but for me, this was an unknown book. I didn't expect to be sucked in and stay up until three in the morning when I first read it. (I even pretended to have fallen asleep so my husband wouldn't tell me to go to bed...he just let me "sleep" in the comfy living room chair.) 

The classics are comforting to me, this book continues to be a sweet read for my soul. This time around, I had the pleasure of reading it by a toasty warm fireplace in the mountains, on a bitterly wind-whipped day. Beautifully sweet.

i'm loving...these books

Books come in all flavors and I crave different flavors as I wade through the stream of moments that become my days, weeks, months, and years. Right now, I've needed some soul encouragement, and I've loved these three books.

I've mentioned Bittersweet before, but I'm still loving it. It's written in more of a vignette form, so I can sit down and read several sections when I have a few free minutes. I like how Shauna Niequist writes, but I also like what she writes. And as an aside, if you have struggled with infertility and miscarriages, I'd grab this book in a heartbeat (or for loved ones). It's a collaboration of so many stories and topics, but this theme has stood out to me. That particular struggle is not one I have faced, but I have still appreciated what she has written. I don't want to put this book in a box by mentioning only one topic, so I'll say this book would be for any woman who is dealing with this beautiful messy life...so everyone (in my opinion...whatever that is worth!). I've been stewing in some bittersweet brew, so I'll say again how much I've appreciated this book.

 

My sweet friend pointed me toward this read saying that it sounded like my kind of book. I read the title and description and then hopped on Amazon and ordered it (thank you Amazon Prime). This is kind of my mantra, finding beauty and joy where I live each day. Blooming where God has planted me, but resting in hope for what He has beyond today. I have an adventurous heart that has been stunted and disgruntled with discontent as of late. So, this book has been a gift to my hurting heart. I haven't connected with the practical parts of the book as much, but I would consider her tips and ideas good ones, just not new to me personally. However, when Sarah Mae speaks to the heart of our struggles and dreams and hopes, and connects those to a loving, engaged and present God, I'm listening. In the midst of Cheerios and laundry and squabbly messes, I can still find joy and beauty and I can rest in a God who sees, who knows, who cares, and who has not forgotten me.

Do you love Jane Austen? Then you will LOVE this. When I'm dealing with a lot of stress and battling anxiety, I can't read contemporary fiction. It makes me feel frenetic and crazy. I have to go back to the classics (or those handful of books which have been read and re-read countless times). Published in 1855, it is not a book about the American Civil War as I originally thought (before I knew the publishing date...I do know my history dates, at least that one!). It tells the story of a young woman who moves with her parents from Southern England to the industrial North. The BBC made a miniseries from this book that is positively lovely lovely lovely. I love old books because they have stood the test of time. The rubbish has ceased to be published and only the best literature has survived. I often wander what books will be read from our time 100 years from now. The writing is complex and intellectual, unlike most fiction found today, and the fact that I must concentrate on what I'm reading helps pull my scattered brain from all that flits around it, unanchored and disorderly. I'm savoring this read.

School is around the corner. Yay! And, sigh. Trusting God for the adventure He has for my family this year!

literature threads, fabric of life

I feel as if I were born wired to love literature and the written word. I was writing stories at age six, I wrote my first book at age eleven (it was not good, by the way). I would devour stacks of books from the library and during summers, I would lavishly read into the early morning hours. Sweet memories indeed. 

Make Way For Ducklings! Boston Public Garden

Literature has woven itself through the threads of my life. I can see a book on my shelf and be momentarily transported to the place where I read it. Non-fiction and especially fiction has met me at crossroads in my life, helped me view my world through another character's eyes, it has helped mold me into the woman I am today.

I remember summer evenings devouring the newest Christy Miller book by Robin Jones Gunn. These characters became a part of my heart. No book series has impacted my life to a greater extent than these treasures.

I read Atonement Child by Francine Rivers curled up on a beanbag in my basement bedroom of the house I lived in during college. I now read this book every year. It pushes my heart to pray, to not become numb to the world around me, to see God's sovereign hand in everything.

I read Canary Island Song by Robin Jones Gunn the second time in a French hotel in Luxembourg City. My dear friend and I had walked the city (one of the most beautiful cities I've ever seen) all day in brisk and damp weather. We were chilled. We ordered tea service and curled up under blankets to read our books. I finished it on the train, the Luxembourg and Belgium countryside creating a watercolor painting through the train windows. This is another story that I love. Each time I have read it, it speaks to my heart in a different way. And it makes me want to visit the Canary Islands....

tea in Luxembourg and Rhubarb my travel polar bear...

the lovely, terraced Luxembourg City

I read Pollyanna Grows Up (sequel to Pollyanna) by Eleanor H. Porter while visiting my brother in Boston. I walked down Commonwealth Avenue to the Public Garden and could picture Pollyanna's stroll and world perfectly. The story is so very sweet and it captivated me.

Boston's Public Garden

Commonwealth Avenue..."Comm Av"

Brownstones on Commonwealth Ave.

I read Rose In Bloom by Louisa May Alcott (sequel to Eight Cousins) sitting along the North Shore of Lake Superior where my husband and I celebrated our 10th anniversary. As the waves lapped against the rocky shore, we sat and read, chatted intermittently and ate our take-out lunches. It was a beautiful day accented by a beautiful story. A pristine moment.

The North Shore of Lake Superior

I read An Old-Fashioned Girl by Louisa May Alcott curled up in my over-stuffed chair, covered in blankets on a cold winter evening. I wasn't expecting to get pulled in, but I just had to finish it. My husband came down at one point to see if I was coming to bed. I pretended to be asleep, so he would leave me alone. Yes, I did just write that. He went back upstairs and I finished the book by about three in the morning. Guilty.

This is a sampling, I have so many more. Moments with my husband, my kids, my friends, my family, and by myself. I've heard that the sense of smell is the strongest memory, I would probably agree, but for me, literature life moments are a close second. Pristine moments, carefree moments, introspective moments, cathartic moments, they are all sacred to me.

read it again, and again, and again

“The sure mark of an unliterary man is that he considers ‘I’ve read it already’ to be a conclusive argument against reading a work. We have all known women who remembered a novel so dimly that they had to stand for half an hour in the library skimming through it before they were certain they had once read it. But the moment they became certain, they rejected it immediately. It was for them dead, like a burnt-out match, an old railway ticket, or yesterday’s paper; they had already used it. Those who read great works, on the other hand, will read the same work ten, twenty or thirty times during the course of their life.”

—C.S. Lewis, An Experiment in Criticism

I have a "stack" of books I read over and over again. Once a year, twice a year, each year at Christmas, it depends. In the last number of years I've started to go back to classic authors. I had read Little Women by Louisa May Alcott and that was it as far as reading for fun and not for an English paper. Now three of her novels are ones I go back to again and again. It's sad to say that I never read Pride and Prejudice until after I graduated college (and I was an English major!). I've now added two of Austen's other novels to my repeat list. I see new details and dimensions each read. This choice to not only read those books labeled "best-selling" and "trendy" has been good for my soul. These works have stood the test of time.

My personal list of  "great works":

Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, and Persuasion by Jane Austen

Anne of Green Gables and Anne of Avonlea by L.M. Montgomery

An Old-Fashioned Girl by Louisa May Alcott

Eight Cousins and Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott

Pollyanna and Pollyanna Grows Up by Eleanor H. Porter

Boston's Public Garden from Pollyanna Grows Up