Thank You, Mrs. Bunting

If you’re like me and someone asks you, “Who were the mentors who influenced you?” you probably can reel off a few names very quickly. We can all recall those who've had a major influence on our life choices, but how about those who enter your life only briefly?

 

One of those people in my life was Mrs. Bunting. She lived near us in a small white bungalow badly in need of paint, but lovely still, with a beautiful rose arbor gracing the back. When my mother returned to work for a brief time so we could buy our first television, we were told we’d be going to Mrs. Bunting’s house after school until one of our parents came home. I groaned as loudly as my two sisters about the prospect of staying with boring and OLD Mrs. Bunting.

A lady in every sense of the word as described in the ‘40's and ‘50's, she dressed discreetly in a pressed house dress and wore beaded, dangly, earrings, pierced ones, which in itself was a rarity in those days among the locals. Her necklaces always matched the baubles in her ears. Her gray hair, was always modestly waved, with nary a hair out of place. An aura of floral scent surrounded her when she moved.

Mrs. Bunting took her responsibility to care for us seriously. Each day when we arrived home from school, she had a snack waiting. Not the usual cookies we would have grabbed on the run at home, though. Instead, she would direct us to her dining room table where she had placed pedestaled crystal glasses filled with chocolate pudding or jello on small crocheted cloth doilies. A dab of whipped cream adorned the top. Dessert spoons with a “B” monogrammed on the handle rested precisely to the right while a pristine white napkin was to the left of the fluted dish.
 

 Filled with pent up energy from school, we were impatient to go outside if the weather was nice. Mrs. Bunting had a long driveway, excellent for jump rope. We tried to rush through the snack as quickly as we could, but Mrs. Bunting didn’t allow it. “When young ladies eat, conversation is important,” she said, with a frown. “The outdoors will always be there, but manners must be observed.”

Then one day I needed to use the bathroom. “It’s the door off the living room,” said Mrs. Bunting. “Just past my boudoir. Remember, you must never enter my boudoir. No one ever goes into a lady’s boudoir without permission.”

I was fascinated by this additional word to my vocabulary! Boudoir. It sounded exotic and special. After that, I made it a point to go to the bathroom every day so I could peek into the “lady’s boudoir.” In the room, made dark by the heavy closed velvet drapes, the interior appeared lush. I’d pause on my way in and out of the bathroom to catch as long of a glance as I could.
And so, Mrs. Bunting began my more formal education of “comportment.” I practiced walking up and down the sun parlor with a book on my head. “A young lady must always know how to carry herself.” She had a rule for just about everything a young lady should do. I practiced sitting quietly on the porch, hands folded. “A young lady does not fidget.”

My sisters didn’t escape all the instructions, either, as Mrs. Bunting always started her lessons at the table. “Always unfold your napkin slowly and place it on your lap before you pick up your spoon. That’s how a lady conducts herself.

          “And when you are finished, place your spoon beside the dish, not in it. Then, blot your lips with your napkin, even if you don’t think you need to do so. Then fold the napkin and place it next to your plate.”
          And again, she would repeat, “That shows you know how to act like a lady.”
          “Always say thank you as well, no matter how simple the meal or food.”

At this point, my two sisters would ask the prerequisite question, “May we now be excused?”

Mrs. Bunting would nod her regal head and as they scrambled from the table, they always rolled their eyes at me since I chose to remain behind. Years later, I questioned my understanding about the word she used, “comportment.” Had I confused it with deportment, a category on our elementary school report card? I looked up the two words and realized the subtle difference. No, Mrs Bunting was definitely teaching me how to comport myself as a lady. Each time I unfold my napkin, I think of her.

And to this day, if I sit in the sun and close my eyes, I can see myself sitting on Mrs. Bunting’s sun porch, practicing my ladylike behavior. Now, I wish I could have acknowledged the awareness she gave me during that brief time we spent together---the appreciation of common courtesies. If you have Mrs. Buntings in your life, consider letting them know they’ve influenced your life. And so, today, I want to say “thank you, Mrs. Bunting,” for taking the time to teach me the value of manners.

 

A Walk on the Other Side

As a writer, I confess I’m a creature of habit. Writing comes easiest when I’m in my usual writing “space”—a room tucked away from TV and other distractions. I put on some of my favorite music, Billy Joel, Frank Sinatra, Chris Botti, and Norah Jones, and the words flow. Well, they flow most of the time…

Spending the winter in Florida where I write on a laptop in the dining room/living room while first football and now March madness prevails, however, has resulted in a bit of a block. My muse, it seems, stayed at home. And of course, the lure of sunshine, beach, and pool has also been hard to resist.

Still, I tell myself that's no excuse and call to mind one of my favorite quotes: "Those who write are writers. Those who wait  are waiters," coined by science fiction and fantasy author A. Lee Martinez. Yet despite my get tough stance, I still come up blank. All my forced sitting in front of the white screen seems to make it worse.

In desperation, I read a lot of how-to-break-through writers block articles on the Internet. The great number of the suggestions tells me I'm not alone in my dilemma. I find a common thread in many of the prompts that tells me I need to recall the joy that I first experienced when I began writing. One way to do this according to my research is to try a different genre, to take a “walk” on the other side—the other side of your usual writing, that is. If fiction is what you normally do, try a poem or a memoir piece, or vice versa.

So I decide to take a break and enjoy writing purely for writing’s sake without pressure. Why not play with words, I thought, like a kid in a sandbox? I can still visualize my now adult daughters as children just letting the sand sift through their fingers. Their joy in the texture wasn't marred by any need to create something permanent or profound. Inspired by that image, I take pen in hand and let my hand take over. I pick poetry as my "blockbreaker" because poets seem to truly love and treasure words. One of the sites I found helpful is Instant Poetry Forms.

Here’s a bit of fun I had with just a wee bit of poetry. It’ll never be in an anthology, but it was fun to play with the words and definitely the antidote to my writer's block. It does need one last line in the second stanza, though. Any idea, fellow writers? Send them to me! But only if you can have fun playing in my poetic sandbox...

A Writer’s Lament

Ideas aplenty come

As I sit by poolside

Long fled before I go to bed

Before the Sun’s memory leaves my skin.

The shower’s hour brings grand ideas

While I soap and shampoo

Gone, oh why, before I’m dry?


I'd also love to hear your solutions for those dry spells in your creativity. And remember:

And So Today, My Potato Smiles

Every January, I take time to reflect on the past year and think of what I want to do differently in the New Year. While my resolutions always list many of the same goals—eat healthier, exercise more, and weigh less, I also like to add new pledges, too. Last year, I chose intentional kindness. Choosing a similar goal for 2013 was especially hard since the year began with the fiscal cliff, the rising debt ceiling, the aftermath of the tragic school shooting, and the memory of Hurricane Sandy’s devastation. I felt weighed down and arid.

I'm lagging behind and barely making my intentions by the end of January, but I tell myself it's never too late to choose a mode of self improvement or look for  a way to better the world. First, I realized I needed to get out of my funk.

I didn't have to go to Google to search. The answer was right in my kitchen. While foraging in the fridge for salad makings, I realized I wasn’t alone. There, on the middle shelf sat my potato bowl and in it, yes, my potato was smiling. I smiled back and ran to get my camera. That friendly potato lifted my spirits and set my mind farther along on my quest. But I wasn't where I needed to be yet.


The next morning I pulled out my plastic container of Florida strawberries. Plump and delicious, their fragrance beckoned. Lo and behold, inside nestled a strawberry heart. And just like the refrigerator light went on, I knew what course I should take. It was as evident as the smile on my potato's face and the curve of my fruited heart.

This year, I will look for the extraordinary in the ordinary, search for the beauty and uniqueness that a busy life often hides. I will try to view my world through a childlike lens.

That, I realized, was exactly what this year's special resolution should be. I needed to see the wonder of the ordinary. So, my goal this year is to see the world in new and different ways, to seek all its beauty and not permit the state of the world to make me lose an appreciation of what is before me. And so, that is where I am now. I’m pledging to become more childlike.

Rachel Carson said it so well: “A child’s world is fresh and new and beautiful, full of wonder and excitement. It is our misfortune that for most of us that clear-eyed vision, that true instinct for what is beautiful and awe-inspiring, is dimmed and even lost before we reach adulthood.” With a conscious effort, I believe that doesn’t have to be so. And so, I am going to set out to view what was before me in a new and different perspective.

So, I invite you to consider joining me in purposely choosing to see the world through a child’s eyes. Searching for and treasuring the wonders that exist in our every day life won’t solve our country’s larger issues, but it will surely enhance our day to day experiences.

Here are a few more words on the value of nurturing your inner child:

“If you want to be creative, stay in part a child, with the creativity and invention that characterizes children…” Jean Piaget, Swiss developmental psychologist and philosopher

“The end of childhood is when things cease to astonish us. When the world seems familiar, when one has got used to existence, one has become an adult.” Eugene Ionesco, French playwright

"We must remain close to the flowers, the grass, and the butterflies as the child is who is not yet much taller than they are..." Friedrich Nietszche

                                                                                       
For more hints on successful goal setting, check out my blog, "How to make (and keep) Resolutions

 

Stopping the Clock

Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.  William Faulkner                                                         

Whether you work from home or are retired, if you’re like me, you probably find days melt into each other without any break in your daily routine. When I still worked in an office environment, there was a clear divide with my Saturdays and Sundays sacrosanct set apart from the daily, humdrum tasks of the Monday through Friday week.

Time for a change: Will, my significant other, and I decide to take action. No more of this! Taking a pencil, we draw a large “X” through one day of every week for the next several months. This would be our special “take a break” day. No doctor’s appointments or grocery shopping or weed pulling would take precedence of our time out.

We float out ideas—a movie, special, long lunches at those places we never seem to find time to try, window shopping with no clear mission of buying anything unless we feel like it, long walks on the beach and even driving out for an ice cream cone—lots of good stuff that never seems to happen since as John Lennon said so well, “life happens while we’re busy making plans.”

Eliminating reminders of time: No more time to wait; we’re serious about this now. Ready, set, action. One of our ideas is to schedule a day without time—no knowledge of clocks, that is, as William Faulkner suggests. Get up when we wake up, eat when we’re hungry, and let the day unfold as it will. Then, we begin to think of what we’ll need to eliminate from our lives to make time stand still.

Let’s see: no TV, no computer. Mask the clocks, put the watches in a drawer. Okay, we’re all set. No, wait a minute. No cell phone, either. No house phone. It, too, gives us the time. Oops, don’t forget the microwave or the stove.

“Well,” Will reasons, “We can always drive down to the end of our island, walk on that part of the beach where we always find some sea glass. There’s no clocks there.”

“Wait a minute,” I say, “we’ll have to mask the clock in the car the night before.”

We realize that clocks are just about everywhere and very hard to escape. Still, we’re going to do it. Soon! We just need to find time to eliminate all signs of time. Fortunately, we’re feeling pretty confident we’ve identified all the possible spoilers of our plan.

We go out into the garden to ponder and think just when we should give this experiment a try. It’s a sunny May afternoon and we realize we still can’t escape a clock. There sits our sundial blabbing the time….

We giggle and realize what’s most important is not the presence of the clocks in our lives, but how we choose to live within our own time. As Golda Meir said so succinctly, “We must govern the clock, not be governed by it.”

Taking a Leap of Faith

It’s hard to hold onto hope sometimes, to continue to believe life is good when we see so much evidence to the contrary. War, unemployment, violence, and even the lack of common civility can wear us out. Yet this is the time in which we live so it’s important to look forward and not get dragged down by all the bad news we read on the Internet and see on the TV.

 Personally, I’ve always thought myself as an optimist, the possessor of the proverbial half full glass rather than the half empty, but I still sometimes find it hard to be upbeat. And with my winter goal of sending out query letters to literary agents, my usual cheerful view somehow became lost despite the warm Florida sun. Each polite rejection form letter seemed like another weight on my mood and I couldn’t wrap my psyche around enough positive energy to even write a blog entry. Instead, I resorted to sitting in the sun, scribbling some attempts at writing poetry and a mystery, and reading lots of novels.

My mood shift began when I chose a different route through downtown Fort Pierce and saw an amazing sculpture. A man high up on a diving board stood poised to dive into a tree filled with roses.

For the rest of the day I reflected on the significance of this lovely and intriguing piece of art. Such an optimistic image, I thought. Imagine viewing a lovely sight of flowers waiting for you while knowing those beautiful blooms would also hold thorns that might pierce your joy.

The figure is an average sort, a little thick in the waist, perhaps past his prime—an older man and one who wouldn’t jump as a younger person would. No, this man would definitely think before he takes a plunge.

Later, I research the sculpture and discover it’s entitled, “A Leap of Faith,” by a local artist, Pat Cochran. Commissioned in 2009, the statue illustrates the small quaint town’s determination to look forward with optimism rather than surrender to the downturned economy. It’s their symbol for taking a leap of faith by continuing to support the arts and add culture to the downtown and riverfront areas. 

As I reflect about what it means to take a leap of faith, I realize it’s something we face often in our daily lives—both big and small decisions require us to do so. Writing and sharing our  thoughts with others involves taking a leap of faith, a trust that requires moving out of our comfort zone. We sit down at the keyboard or take a pencil in hand and believe the words will come. We write our synopsis and query letter and send it off with hope that just maybe this time, this will be the one that clicks. 

Like the man on the diving board, looking out at all the beautiful albeit possibly hurtful outcomes, without taking that risk, we remain trapped looking at all the possibilities in our lives. The man stands on the edge, but somehow, I have no doubt that he intends to “take the plunge.” And like him, taking that leap of faith doesn’t mean jumping blindly; we, too, must recognize our choices will entail some lovely flowers, but possibly some painful outcomes as well.     

Here’s a few things that you might find helpful when you consider taking a leap of faith:

1.     Listen to your inner voice.

2.     Believe in yourself and your choices.

3.     Seek people who support you.

4.     Face your fears.

5.     Trust you will learn, whatever the outcome.

Most of all, stay upbeat and when in doubt, repeat the encouraging words of John Burroughs, “Leap and the net will appear.”

                                                                                      

 

Life: One Stitch at a Time

"Take your needle, my child, and work at your pattern; it will come out a rose by and by. Life is like that - one stitch at a time taken patiently and the pattern will come out out all right like the embroidery."
~ Oliver Wendall Holmes

One of the nicest aspects of sewing, for me, is the way it frees up my mind to muse while still feeling productive. It’s also a great way to “watch” TV! Cross stitch is one of those sewing crafts I love to do. Recently, a friend asked me how I could sit for hours making little X’s on a blank cloth. “There’s more to it than simply making X’s,” I said. “Why, you can learn a lot of what you need to live well just by reading the common cross stitch directions.”

Here’s my version of life seen through the directions for successful cross stitching:

1. Read all the instructions before beginning. Take time to plan before you start anything – whether you’re considering buying a home, changing your job, or even choosing a new insurance policy, check out the fine print. Know as much as you can before making your decision.

2. Bind or tape the edges to prevent fraying. Make sure your emotional edges are bound by the love and support of your family and friends. Then if life threatens to overcome you, you won’t fall apart. Build up your binding by showing your love for others; at the same time, you can be the tape for theirs as well.

3. Sort and label the thread with the corresponding color and symbol. Just like cross stitch, sometimes our life choices get confused. Sometimes, two choices, like the colors of thread seem to blend into each other, creating the illusion that there is little or no difference. Put aside the colors of your choices until another day when fresh light helps you see the fine shades of each.

4. Find the center of the design. Find your center, your core. Get to know who you really are. Turn off your cell phone, take a walk by yourself, learn to meditate. Most importantly, have some time in solitude and quiet so you can get to know your inner self. The you’ll be able to create something beautiful.

5. When your thread becomes twisted, let your needle hang free and allow the yarn to resume its natural state. When life feels too complicated or your anxiety level threatens to ruin your life tapestry, let the pressures go. Come to a stop and let your mind rest. It won’t solve any problems, but your ability to cope will improve.

6. Cross all stitches in the same way. Be consistent in your outlook. Treat others fairly as you wish to be treated so the pattern of your life will be smooth and even.

7. Count and recount as you go. Review your life on a regular basis.. It’s always easier to change course when you do so. While John Lennon says in a song, “life is what happens when you’re busy making plans,” reviewing your direction as it’s happening offers some ability to adjust your trajectory.
8. Small errors in counting do not change the look of the design and shouldn't be given a second thought. Be kind to yourself and don’t judge yourself or others too harshly. We all make mistakes and small errors will not mar the overall pattern of life.

9. Large errors should be carefully taken out without damaging the thread and then restitched. When you make a large misstep, don’t despair. Consider how the damage can be corrected then fix it as best you can. Handled carefully, the problems of life can be managed and the beauty of your life’s design preserved even stronger when patched well.

10. More than enough material is included, provided instructions are carefully followed. This last rule is so important! Eat right, sleep enough, and follow the nine preceding rules. Recognize that you have been given one body to last a lifetime and your psyche has a lot to do with how that body prospers. If you don’t waste your life’s material, hopefully, it should last as long as needed.
Yes, I muse, while I stitch the last rose in a basket of roses, cross stitch offers us a metaphor for all we need to enjoy life plus we are left with gifts we can pass on to others. And besides, it sure beats actually watching TV!

Strawberry Moments Forever

"… the smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls· bearing resiliently, on tiny and almost impalpable drops of their essence, the immense edifice of memory" -Marcel Proust,  "The Remembrance of Things Past"

Do you have a smell that reminds you of special memories? Perhaps the redolent smell of your childhood Sunday dinners? Or popcorn at Saturday matinees? Does a particular aroma take you back where you can see the scene as vividly as if you were right there now?

Proust's words speak volumes to me because throughout my life, the distinctive perfume of fresh strawberries has prevailed as my memory prompter. Perhaps it can even serve as a metaphor for much of my life. This love affair began in my childhood and I write about this in one of my past blog entries, "A World Without Childhood?"

Since that early experience, strawberries have continued as the framework of my most treasured moments.

Consider our honeymoon, for example. The year was 1962 and segregation was still an issue. Neither Will nor I had ever seen signs "for whites only" before, and the sight of so many appalled us. A truck loaded with cartons of berries pulled in behind us on a Chesapeake Bay ferry boat. Two black men got out of the truck and stood in the hot May sunshine. They couldn't go inside where it was cool since the boat wasn't large enough to have an extra space for what then was referred to as "for coloreds only." I spoke to them and said, "It must be nice to drive a truck with such a lovely cargo." They smiled back and tipped their hats.

When we returned to our car, one of the men handed us two quarts of berries. We thanked them profusely and thought about them as we continued on our way. That night, in a modest motel, I poured the lush, red fruit into the tiny sink to wash them and we ate our fill in bed before turning out the light. So, forever they will represent passion and love, along with a little sadness, too, at how badly people can treat other people by considering them as less worthy.

The following years went quickly for us—perhaps because our four daughters were born within the first five years of our marriage. When our youngest was four, we began taking them to a nearby farm to pick strawberries every June. My mother-in-law, Lib, would often join us and then come home to help clean and hull the berries.

After I washed the scarlet stains off the kids' faces and fingers and tucked them into bed, I'd come back to the kitchen to make pie crusts, usually twelve in all. As I kneaded and rolled, I could hear Will and his mother on our jalousie porch, a soft, gentle sound while I reveled in my solitude and the tactile feel of the dough.

Years later, in California, I picked huge, almost meatball size fruit on a California hill with my second daughter, Cindy, and three granddaughters. And as Yogi Berra says, it was "déjà vu all over again." That evening, however, I was the person hulling the berries while Cindy scrubbed away the ruby hue of the fruit that just couldn't wait another day to be eaten.

Now our family is grown and scattered from the East to the West Coast, but this succulent fruit continues to bring additional memories. Last week, we escorted our youngest daughter down a sandy beach on her wedding day in Santa Cruz, California. A joyous week for all of us with, you guessed it, more strawberries. As I hulled them, I inhaled deeply, drinking in one more strawberry moment while I listened to the chatter of gathered family. And as I did so, I thought how blessed I am to have this thread through my life and look forward to seeing what else this succulent fruit will bring in the future.

So, tell me, do you also have a special scent that takes you back in time? If so, drink it in and find yourself right there in that special place, that special moment. If not, consider creating memory markers by using your sense of smell during future happy moments—perhaps the smell of perfume you put on or notice on a loved one some New Year's Eve, or the sweet distinctive fragrance of the ocean after a storm.

Quotes That Stand the Test of Time

How so many writers throughout history have been able to pen words that endure through the years always fills me with awe, especially when they pack a lot of ageless wisdom into those words.

So, whenever I see a quote I like, I add it to my "angel" book, noting the date and the individual who laced those words together so well. Eventually, I'll collate them all into a small collection, note why I like them and take it to Staples and have it made into a spiral book for family members—my way to keep those wonderful quotes alive and share what I love with those I love.

When I was writing a recent blog, "A world without childhood?" the expression, "youth is wasted on the young," came to mind. While I didn't use it in my posting, I keep wondering: Is it a quote or a cliché? Or a quote that became a cliché? Sayings sometimes seem to have a way of doing that—said so often that time seems to wear them down like the tires on a farm truck. It wasn't in my book of clichés, so once again, I turned to Google, the place where you can find almost anything except a clean pair of underwear.

When the page came up, I was surprised to see George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950) coined that expression. My curiosity piqued, I searched through some of his other quotes. Definitely found some that belong in my quote book. But what truly amazed me was how relevant they are today. Consider these quotes:

On Politics

• "A government that robs Peter to pay Paul can always depend on the support of Paul." Whatever side of the political fight over what our country should do or not do regarding tax cuts/increases and the nation's debt crisis, this quote would certainly describe the views of some of our politicians, don't you think?
• "An election is a moral horror, as bad as a battle except for the blood; a mud bath for every soul concerned in it." It seems to me whenever any politician appears to rise in the polls, some hint of scandal or incapacitating illness surfaces. Like Michelle Bachmann's migraines. She wouldn't ever be my choice, but would a migraine really preclude her ability to be president? Pundits predict the 2012 election will be the worst negative campaign in the history of our country.
• "An asylum for the sane would be empty in America." Do I need to add any comment to this quote?

On life

• "Don't waste your youth on growing up." This hits home today especially when I see little girls sporting Madonna like outfits and eye make up, or little girls playing with breast feeding dolls. Childhood needs to be a time to be a child. Otherwise, George Bernard Shaw's other quote, "Youth is wasted on the young," becomes sad but true.

• "We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing." So, whatever your age, be silly! Dance in the kitchen or join a flash mob, perform at an Open Mic, sing in a karaoke bar, wear whatever you like no matter how much you hate your flabby arms. As my grandson, John says, "take a risk."
• "I want to be all used up when I die." This quote is perhaps my favorite of all. Such a lovely sentiment—to have done everything you've wanted to do, to have lived life fully with no regrets, to have loved unconditionally, loved long and hard.. Yes, I definitely want to be all used up when I die.

Facts about George Bernard Shaw:

1. He won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1925.
2. For seven years, he wrote five unsuccessful novels.
3. He was a socialist.
4. He supported women's rights and wrote about them in 1891.
5. His last play, Why She Would Not, was completed on July 23, 1950, three days before his ninety-fourth birthday.
6. One of his most famous plays was Pygmalion.

For more information about this great playwright, visit these sites.
Bernard: A Brief Biography
http://www.biography.com/articles/George-Bernard-Shaw-9480925"
http://www.notablebiographies.com/Sc-St/Shaw-George-Bernard.html

Revisiting a Classic

A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say.  ~Italo Calvino, The Literature Machine

What truly makes a classic a classic? For me, it's a book that I can still relate to, one that still holds relevance, and as Calvino says so well, still has something to say. A year or so ago, we chose "The House of the Seven Gables" for our St. Francis book group. After reading it, we all agreed it hadn't stood the test of time—at least for us.

So, when another book group here in Florida (our respite from the cold Island winter) chose "The Scarlet Letter," it was with much trepidation that I began to read another Hawthorne book, this one his first, published in 1850.

Still, I reminded myself one of the great gifts of belonging to a book group is reading or re-reading a book that we would not otherwise choose on our own. Those of us who are inveterate book group members feel compelled to read the chosen selection no matter how painful the process. And for me, the pressure was greater because I volunteered to co-lead the discussion of "The Scarlet Letter."

In my second reading of Hawthorne's classic, I discovered the following:

Modern day reading has changed my reading experience expectations.

At first, I fretted over the slow movement of the book, the long passages, and antiquated language, wishing he would just get to the point! I can only liken it to the experience of watching some of my favorite old movies that, when revisited, move much too slowly for me. I realize that I've bought into the world of instant gratification. Newer novels, even good ones, "feed" us faster.


Getting the most from a classic requires slower and more attentive reading.

When I forced myself to read more carefully and thoughtfully, I found great beauty in much of Hawthorne's text. Consider these lines, "…the scarlet letter ceased to be a stigma which attracted the world's scorn and bitterness, and became a type of something to be to be sorrowed over, and looked upon with awe, yet with reverence, too." 

Life experience affects my view much more than I realized.

The premise choosing this book was to see how reading this book later in life might differ from our high school experience. Several members of the group spoke about how their first reading focused entirely on Hester Prynne and how her name remained imprinted in their memories yet they didn't remember any of the other characters. For me, I had a greater appreciation for her strength as a character. As a teenager, I mainly saw her as a victim and felt the injustice inflicted upon her. I realized my view of women in general has changed greatly since the '50's. Clifton Fadiman says it well in his quote, "When you re-read a classic you do not see in the book more than you did before.  You see more in you than there was before." 

Classics withstand the test of time because the themes expressed are universal and timeless.

While no one is overtly placed in a pillory or made to stand with a sign signifying their shame, we still do expect public shaming to take place. Perhaps the Puritans were more honest in doing it as openly as they did. Consider how we expect our celebrities to publicly expose their personal extramarital affairs, demand details, and expect an apology. Or the shame teens heap on one another with pictures and comments on Facebook. We call it bullying and it is, but it's also public shaming and shunning. Presented more graphically and in modern language, adultery, pride, gender issues, and forbidden love still sell books!


The use of symbolism and irony have an ageless quality that continues to resonate with readers.

Did Hawthorne choose Pearl as Hester's daughters name to draw a parallel to the sacrifice an oyster undertakes to make a pearl? Consider his masterful use of irony as manifested how the ambiguity of sin was expressed in the loveliness of the embroidered "A", or how she chose to remain in the village and continue to wear the letter long after her transgression was forgotten.

There's a Chinese saying, "To read a book for the first time is to make an acquaintance with a new friend; to read it for a second time is to meet an old one."

Here are ten other classics I'd recommend:

1. To Kill a Mocking Bird by Harper Lee

2. East of Eden by John Steinbeck

3. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

4. Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger

5. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

6. Moby Dick by Herman Melville

7. 1984 by George Orwell

8. Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe

9. Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

10. All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren

These are my top ten, but you can view more at Top 100 Best Novels Of All Time http://wealthwisdomandsuccess.com/.

Whether you read these books with a book group or on your own, they're worth a second look! Take a trip to a favorite place and revisit a classic. You'll learn things about life and yourself you've forgotten or never quite realized you knew.

Let me know which are your favorite classics!

Embrace a classic, and remember, "Books let us into their souls and lay open to us the secrets of our own."  William Hazlitt