So my monthly book review this month featured Water for Elephants, a book not only NOT about infertility, but really not even about babies. Or women, for that matter. Because while the book did have a great deal to do with a man's love of a woman, I felt the book was quintessentially the journey of a man.

Written by a woman.

And it's true I lack a penis (or at least not one that takes batteries or cajoling after a long day), but I think she did a good job capturing what it must be like to think like a man. I'm not saying that because the chap talked about jugs and football a lot, nor did he go around quivering whenever someone asked him if they looked fat in something. It was just - to me - a great narrative and a great story and the main character was someone intriguing and someone that you cared about.

The book told the story of Jacob, who was about 10 inches away from graduating from an Ivy League school with a vet degree when he hears his folks are killed. He goes home to mourn and learns his parents have nothing. This being the Depression, it means he has nothing now too, and so he does what every Kerouac has dreamt of - he hopes on a freight car and winds up being the vet for a travelling circus.

As you do.

And falls in love with a showgirl named Marlena (you thought I was going to say Lola, didn't you?)

And she's married to a giant asshole.

Who makes Jacob ride a rail car with livestock and an angry, masturbating midget (not making that up and I shudder to see what Google will send my way now).

The book is actually told in flashbacks by an older, 93 year-old Jacob. Jacob's age makes me want to weep, as he seems frustrated and locked in a body that's betraying him as he wastes away in a retirement home, desperate to be taken seriously.

The book was staggering. I usually read very quickly, even when handling infants, builders, and work, but this one took me a while to read simply because there was a lot to absorb. I found it a very imaginative, enjoyable book. I was surprised how much I liked the book in fact, because I absolutely loathe anything to do with circuses (clowns. Too close to clowns.)

Anyway, my book review questions:

What is your favorite circus related memory?

There are so many things wrong with that question. There is no such thing as a good circus related memory. It's not even possible. I've even been to Ringling Brothers, and I can tell you, I hated that, too. Why? Clowns. There were clowns there. I have been to Cirque du Soleil and loved that, but that's less circus, more "let's climb the drapes, shall we?"

On page 109, old Jacob complains about how his family keeps secrets from him: "And those are just the things I know about. There are a host of others they don't mention because they don't want to upset me. I've caught wind of several, but when I ask questions, they clam right up. Mustn't upset Grandpa, you know... Why? That's what I want to know. I hate this bizarre policy of protective exclusion, because it effectively writes me off the page. If I don't know about what's going on in their lives, how am I supposed to insert myself in the conversation?... I've decided it's not about me at all. It's a protective mechanism for them, a way of buffering themselves against my future death..." Reading this, I could see myself in both Jacob & in his family members, both in respect to our infertility situation and other matters. Whose viewpoint do you relate to most in this passage and why?

I'm going to piss some people off, but I'll agree with his family. I'm not sure if it's a reflection of my views on privacy or my views on family, but I do think things can or should be kept from people if you think it will upset them. I relate to Jacob completely, but I think boundaries are important in order to keep the relationships healthy and moving. Letting someone in completely is difficult and, to me, something best juggled with someone who has to experience your morning breath and your daily bad moods.

(From the discussion questions at the end of the book) Looking at himself in the mirror, the old Jacob tries "to see beyond the sagging flesh." But he claims, "It's no good....I can't find myself anymore. When did I stop being me?" How would you answer that question for Jacob or for yourself?

Haven't we all been there? Haven't we all had a moment after going through something terrible - or even more to the point while going through something terrible - and said "What's happening to me? Who am I becoming?" My own experience makes me want to walk up to Jacob and put my arms around him. I'd tell him at least he noticed he wasn't himself anymore.

Now what did he want to do about it?

Hop along to another stop on this blog tour by visiting the main list at http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/. You can also sign up for the next book on this online book club: The Empty Picture Frame by Jenna Nadeau (with author participation because she's a blogger!)

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 05:06 PM | Comments (14) | Add Comment
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