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1mirrani
And there was the oak tree in front of the house, much older than the neighborhood or the town, which made rubble of the pavement at its foot and flung its imponderable branches out over the road and across the yard, branches whose girths were greater than the trunk of any ordinary tree. There was a torsion in its body that made it look like a giant dervish to them. Their father said if they could see as God can, in geological time, they would see it leap out of the ground and turn in the sun and spread its arms and bask in the joys of being an oak tree in Iowa. p4
I just loved this. It was a wonderful introduction.
It took a while for me to get into this book, but I definitely enjoyed it. I began to get a visual of the place, the people... not in an actual visual sense, but in a sense of "there" if that makes sense at all...
Did she choose to be there, in that house, in Gilead? No, she certainly did not. Her father needed looking after, and she had to be somewhere, like every other human being on earth. What an embarrassment that was, being somewhere because there was nowhere else for you to be. p37
The feelings expressed in parts of this book are very well done. They're made real in the heart of the reader, at least for me.
There is a saying that to understand is to forgive, but that is an error, so Papa used to say. You must forgive in order to understand. Until you forgive, you defend yourself against the possibility of understanding. p45
And it's true, if you think about it.
Her whole life long that house was either where Jack might not be or where he was not. p65
This one line expresses so much of the book. This isn't a book where things are going on, it's about relationship and pulling through and expectation.
At the end of so much effort, the neck seemed frail, but the head was still lifted up, and the ears stood there, still shaped for attention, soft as they were. She'd have left all the lovely hair, which looked like gentle bewilderment, just as the lifted head and the ears looked like waiting grown old, like trust grown old. p169
This is about the daughter giving her father a haircut. I loved the emotional visual, if you get my meaning.
How to announce the return of comfort and well-being except by cooking something fragrant. That is what her mother always did. After every calamity of any significance she would fill the atmosphere of the house with the smell of cinnamon rolls or brownies, or with chicken and dumplings, and it would mean, This house has a soul that loves us all, no matter what. It would mean peace if they had fought and amnesty if they had been in trouble. It had meant, You can come down to dinner now, and no one will say a thing to bother you, unless you have forgotten to wash your hands. And her father would offer the grace, inevitable with minor variations, thanking the lord for all the wonderful faces he saw around his table. p252
A real experience of what it is to be a part of this family.
Jack said, "I think hope is the worst thing int he world. I really do. It makes a fool of you while it lasts. And then when it's gone, it's like there's nothing left of you at all. Except" -- he shrugged and laughed-- "except what you can't be rid of." p275
There was more to this, including that his sister started crying. I found she cried a lot and I couldn't really understand the reasoning behind the seemingly random tears. Maybe I missed something in the family relationship or there was a part of her character I just couldn't relate to.
It is terrible that letters can matter so much. p312-313
This is, in its own way another major essence of the book. I can't really give anything away, except that the brother who was either at the house or not was expecting a letter, which came... eventually.
I just loved this. It was a wonderful introduction.
It took a while for me to get into this book, but I definitely enjoyed it. I began to get a visual of the place, the people... not in an actual visual sense, but in a sense of "there" if that makes sense at all...
Did she choose to be there, in that house, in Gilead? No, she certainly did not. Her father needed looking after, and she had to be somewhere, like every other human being on earth. What an embarrassment that was, being somewhere because there was nowhere else for you to be. p37
The feelings expressed in parts of this book are very well done. They're made real in the heart of the reader, at least for me.
There is a saying that to understand is to forgive, but that is an error, so Papa used to say. You must forgive in order to understand. Until you forgive, you defend yourself against the possibility of understanding. p45
And it's true, if you think about it.
Her whole life long that house was either where Jack might not be or where he was not. p65
This one line expresses so much of the book. This isn't a book where things are going on, it's about relationship and pulling through and expectation.
At the end of so much effort, the neck seemed frail, but the head was still lifted up, and the ears stood there, still shaped for attention, soft as they were. She'd have left all the lovely hair, which looked like gentle bewilderment, just as the lifted head and the ears looked like waiting grown old, like trust grown old. p169
This is about the daughter giving her father a haircut. I loved the emotional visual, if you get my meaning.
How to announce the return of comfort and well-being except by cooking something fragrant. That is what her mother always did. After every calamity of any significance she would fill the atmosphere of the house with the smell of cinnamon rolls or brownies, or with chicken and dumplings, and it would mean, This house has a soul that loves us all, no matter what. It would mean peace if they had fought and amnesty if they had been in trouble. It had meant, You can come down to dinner now, and no one will say a thing to bother you, unless you have forgotten to wash your hands. And her father would offer the grace, inevitable with minor variations, thanking the lord for all the wonderful faces he saw around his table. p252
A real experience of what it is to be a part of this family.
Jack said, "I think hope is the worst thing int he world. I really do. It makes a fool of you while it lasts. And then when it's gone, it's like there's nothing left of you at all. Except" -- he shrugged and laughed-- "except what you can't be rid of." p275
There was more to this, including that his sister started crying. I found she cried a lot and I couldn't really understand the reasoning behind the seemingly random tears. Maybe I missed something in the family relationship or there was a part of her character I just couldn't relate to.
It is terrible that letters can matter so much. p312-313
This is, in its own way another major essence of the book. I can't really give anything away, except that the brother who was either at the house or not was expecting a letter, which came... eventually.
