Saints for All Occasions

by J. Courtney Sullivan 
Jan 4-28, 2018

What a lovely story. I adore family dramas, especially ones that span a few generations. Add to that a devout Irish Catholic family, and I'm hooked. I love how the story just kind of quietly unfolded into a completely believable narrative. And while the subject matter isn't exactly groundbreaking or original, I still think the author found a fresh way to tell it.

"Mother Cecilia swore she felt her spirit each time she set foot in the abbey's vegetable garden, or when she went to the grave and placed flowers in springtime. And especially when, in the presence of some lost soul, she attempted to give her solace.
As many paths to God as people on earth."

Beautiful, thought-provoking paragraphs like that are abundant. Sullivan really succeeded in making the reader contemplate her own family dynamic and especially understand the power of prayer and forgiveness. The perfect example of life being too short to hold on to anger.

A great way to start the new year; I'm a little sad to leave these characters.

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The Bell Jar

by Sylvia Plath
Dec. 26, 2017-Jan. 3, 2018

/ˈbel ,jär/
noun
1. a bell-shaped glass cover used for covering delicate objects or used in a laboratory, typically for enclosing samples.
      1.1 An environment in which someone is protected or cut off from the outside world. ‘let him stay in his bell jar of perfectionist concentration’ [with allusion to Sylvia Plath's novel The Bell Jar (1963)]

With a little nudging from a friend, I decided at long last to read The Bell Jar, a book that has been on my list for years. Considering the book was first released 55 years ago, the plot was not a mystery, but I was completely shocked by how convincing Esther's downfall was. She describes her rapid descent in a beautifully sad way:

"trapped under a bell jar, stewing in her own sour air"

And in the brilliant writing, somehow I started to question my own sanity, even for a minute. Obviously, that minute has passed, but such is the power of Plath's words.

At times the book felt rushed, but I also think that was a purposeful tactic to further illustrate Esther's sickness. And in truth, I'm glad the book wasn't any longer because I was left emotionally exhausted. Purposely written without emotion, only commentary, it was initially difficult to empathize with Esther. But after that first shock treatment, my heart continually broke for her and her struggle. Nine years after The Bell Jar was published, Plath took her own life. It's a shame to have lost such a brilliant talent to such a horrible disease.

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