Honesty

Honesty in writing is a real treasure. When you read writing that is truthful in every detail it is so much more inspiring than something that is vague.
Moving to A Bird in the House, it is probably my favorite book this semester. Margret Laurence's writing strikes a chord in me that I don't find very often when I read. Sure I feel connected to a book, it's characters, and the meaning but for some reason her book hits somewhere deeper. Part of it think is her honesty. Nothing is sugar coated but it isn't horrific either. Her work is true to the time period. It is the Depression. People are angry and confused. Granted she is fortunate enough to not have to worry so much about her famiy's money but it is clear her environment still affects her. She see's her grandfather as a consistently grumpy man, partially because this is how her mother and Aunt Edna talk about him. As a child she is very observant.
Laurence's handling of the passage of time is excellent.
What touches me most is the theme of death. It seems to me that the moment one death occurs the others come faster then I wantedthem to. It's like I knew they were coming even though I had never read the book before. It makes me so sad for Vanessa and yet interested in the way she handles each one. Since she is not allowed to go to her grandmother's or her dad'd funeral, her description of her grandfather's is important. It is her first full blown confrontation with death.
The final thing that sticks out to me is that since the book is through Vanessa's eyes I am left wanting to know more about her family and every other character's personality. At the same time I don't feel this is necessary information and that I am just overly curious. But I really enjoy viewing the world through Vanessa and like to imagine how the book would change if it were her Aunt, grandfather, grandmother, or mother narrated.

Just Words

When people write, I often imagine, it continuously reflects their inner passions. And while that topic may so often be very specific or something that speaks loudly only to them, I find that readers are often just as able to relate to these passions, not because they share them necessarily, but rather because of the words that are used to describe them.
These words are the matter, the building blocks that I continue to associate with everything: people, things, ideas, dreams, or feelings. That is their draw, their magnetism. And there is wonder in that such little, powerful things spring themselves from our lips on a daily basis. But words, while so simple and easy to employ, are rifted with incredible potential. The very number of things that we, as human beings, can accomplish through words by using them honestly and without regret continues to amaze me.