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

Roses of Winter


God gave us memories that we might have roses in December.  ~J.M. Barrie, Courage, 1922

The day before Thanksgiving, our neighbor, Harry, knocked on my door with an armful of roses from his still flowering garden. "Hard to believe they're still growing," he said.

"Yes," I answered, "But wonderful, too." I clipped the stems and placed the bouquet in a green vase on my dining room table. In the next few weeks, I passed by the roses often. Each time I did, I thought how comforting it was to see them bloom into December.


Harry's lovely bouquet brought to mind Barrie's quote and my thoughts turned to how increasingly important the role memory takes as we get older—not that I'm done making memories—not by a long shot, I hope! After all, I'm only seventy now.

I like to think my "winter" is still far away, but based on how rapidly the years have gone gone thus far, it's much closer than I want to believe. Sometimes, I wonder about what it will be like once I reach what I've always viewed as a barren season.


I visit a senior center once a month to do a program entitled, "Remember When." These seniors, older than I am, of course, are firmly entrenched in their "winters." They prefer sharing memories evoked by old movies, historical events, and songs of their "summers." For them, it seems, memory making is, like their memories, a thing of the past.


Here's a few nonscientific things I've come to believe about memory:

Memory is fluid and dynamic. Each recollection takes on a different hue, tone, and meaning when we view it from a distance created by time.


Memory is a way of holding onto the things we love. It tells us who we are, and is tied to things we never want to lose. As a result, it's only natural that it holds such a larger part in our lives as we age.

Memory smoothes out the edges of the life we've lived. It is the book we write in the silence of our hearts. And like writers, we can discover the freedom to alter our history and tell it a little more like we wanted it to be.

Memories require memory keepers. And as we get older, we may become the only one left, the master memory keeper of our family. An awesome, sad and yet joyful thing to contemplate!

Memory is randomly selective. As Austin O'Malley notes, "Memory is a crazy woman that hoards colored rags and throws away food." Nora Ephron speaks of this in her new book, "I Remember Nothing." I have a vivid memory of my third daughter, Christina. I had her sitting up on the kitchen counter and was kissing the back of her neck where a curly tendril of hair always nestled. Yet when she asks me about her birthday parties, I remember nothing. Cesare Pavese (The Burning Brand) says it so well, "We do not remember days; we remember moments."

Memory of our childhood remains imprinted in our memory bank for all of our lives. Sometimes, I ask myself: why can I remember all the details of my elementary school yet scarcely remember the hallways of the college I attended when I was forty years old?

Recently, after arriving home after doing a Christmas program for the seniors, the first thing I saw when I came in were Harry's roses, bathed in the winter sun. I thought again about the seniors and remembered their joy in their recollections, their "roses in December."


Whether you're at the same point in your memory timeline as I am or at another, enjoy and savor your memories this season. And as Christmas draws ever closer, my wish for you is that your memories continue to keep you warm through future Decembers and that you enjoy making new and happy ones in 2011.

 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

A Season of its Own

"Oh how we love pumpkin season. You did know this gourd-ish squash has its own season, right? Winter, Spring, Summer, Pumpkin.... We anxiously anticipate it every year." ~Trader Joe's Fearless Flyer, October 2010

If you still have a pumpkin left from Halloween and Thanksgiving, you may be ready about now to pitch it in the trash and start your Christmas decorating. Stop! That decorative pumpkin is loaded with great flavor and lots of vitamins. You can cook it and serve it in a variety of ways – a side dish (it is a squash!), or use it to make soup, pancakes, muffins, bread, or pies.

Here’s the easiest way to cook a pumpkin:

1. Cut the pumpkin crosswise in half. Use a big knife. This is the  toughest part of the whole process.

2. Scoop out the seeds.

3, Place on a cookie sheet with edges, the pumpkin face down. Add a small amount of water to the tray, to help create steam.

Bake at 350 degrees until done. Approximately 30 minute to an hour, depending on the size of the pumpkins.

Test with a fork. When it pierces the skin easily, it’s ready.

After it cools enough to handle, the skin will peel off easily, leaving a lovely golden vegetable ready to be mashed or pureed. The color of fresh pumpkin is so different than that of canned pumpkin! What exactly do they add to canned version? If you have the space, you can package any extra pumpkin in plastic containers and freeze. It keeps well for months. I usually measure what I need for various recipes.

Here’s a few recipes for your fresh pumpkin

Pureed Pumpkin side dish:

Add cinnamon and brown sugar to taste. Maple syrup is also good. You can add some butter and salt if you like as well. Heat in the microwave. Enjoy with pork, salmon, or chicken.

Easy Low Fat Pumpkin Soup: 4 servings (1 1/2 cups each)

1/4 cup chopped onion

2 cups pureed pumpkin

1/4 tsp ginger

1 cup evaporated milk

1 cup skim milk
2 cups hot water
1 tsp maple syrup (can substitute with pancake syrup)

Directions: Microwave onions and 1/4 cup water in until onions are tender in a large microwavable bowl. Add the rest of the ingredients and microwave on high for 6 to 7 minutes or until heated through, stirring every two minutes. NOTE: You can also prepare this soup on the stove

Autumn Pumpkin Bread or Rolls (bread maker recipe)

1/2 cup diced carrots, cooked and pureed (you can use baby carrots to save time)

1/2 cup pureed pumpkin

1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce

*1/4 cup water

1 1/2 Tbsp butter or margarine

2 Tbsp honey

1 1/2 tsp salt

1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1 1/2 cups bread flour
1/4 tsp allspice
2 tsp active dry yeast

Place all ingredients in bread pan according to your bread machine directions. Select medium crust setting and the whole wheat cycle or the dough cycle for 12 dinner rolls.

For the rolls, when the dough cycle is completed, shape the rolls and place in 9 inch round pans or on a cookie tray. Cover and let rise in a warm place for 20-30 minutes. Hint: preheat your oven to warm or 200 degrees, then TURN OFF before you put the rolls in to rise.

Enjoy this special fruit with a season of its own. Bon appetit!

A Pumpkin Pie Sort of Woman...

Recently, my friend, Beth wrote an excellent piece on OpenSalon.com, entitled "I Like the Pie" All about coconut cream pie. Such a delicious and funny story that I e-mailed her to tell her how I could taste her pie.

Just reading her essay, I added, resulted in a weight gain even though I didn't like coconut cream pie.

She wrote back and asked me what kind of pie I liked. I didn't hesitate. Why, pumpkin, of course.

My answer didn't seem to surprise Beth since she could visualize me as a "pumpkin pie sort of woman." That got me thinking. What exactly is a "pumpkin pie sort of woman?" Could I be on the track of a whole new way to define personality? I decided to test it out by asking some family members and friends what kind of "pie man or woman" they were. Some of the answers surprised me; some didn't. One thing I did discover was how much fun it can be to consider ourselves in a light hearted and unexpected way.

Pick a color: Grandson John's answer didn't surprise me. Color helped determine his choice: Blue. "A relaxed color," he says, "I am very laid back and blueberry is low key, but delicious." A sophomore in college, John is the only person I know who seems both laid back and focused. That's not an easy feat!

Laura concurs with John, but takes it a step further. Then again, what can I expect of a fellow writer who wrotes both prose and poetry? "Blueberry is so vivid, decadently gooey and rich as King Arthur's Court…blueberry is earthy and darkly mysterious. It smacks of fingerpainting and opulence, wild bears in Alaska—all neatly packaged into an oozing purple mess. Blueberry pie is contradictory and complicated…"

Consider a singing apple: Jackie, who I've always seen as an upbeat person had this to say: "The apples of a new season are crisp, sometimes a bit tart, but pleasing. That's me, and apple pie, desiring to please and surprise, to bring a smile. (Do apples "sing?" I do!)"

Dare to dissent: Beth, my favorite niece, is always honest and she didn't disappoint when put to the pie test. "The real truth about what kind of pie I would be —None! I'm more of a homemade chocolate cake. Soft, comforting, friendly welcoming, true to the end, and it gets you through the best and worst times. Why would I want to be a pie that only comes out during the holidays when chocolate cake is there all year long—day in and day out?"

Search for versatility: Tracie, who provides help whenever she's at the library desk, chooses cherry. "Each piece of fruit is compact, individual, and always offers a surprise. Sometimes sweet, sometimes not, but definitely not always what you're expecting."

Go for the unexpected: Richard and Sandy, both fellow bloggers, went for pecan. Individualists, these two, who look beyond the traditional fruit pie mindset.
Richard says, "Like I see myself, pecan pie is a little nutty, but sweet. Crusty, too. "

Sandy, who also happens to be my daughter, on the other hand, opts for the view that "it is the sort of sweet that makes you feel at home and that's what I want to do for my partner, Julie." She has loved the "brown sugary flavor" of pecan pie since she was young. One of my favorite pictures of all times is with her holding our grandson, Joe, and looking with adoration at one of my home baked pecan pies many Thanksgivings ago. I think Joe is also looking at it, too!

Feed the world: I loved all the answers, but my all time favorite has to be my neighbor and friend, Steve's. "As someone who has always liked to be liked, I would want to be a pizza pie. Who doesn't like pizza? One of my fantasies is to be able to start a huge pizza manufacturing company. I would then ship pizzas all over the world, especially to the most impoverished areas. It would all be done anonymously and freely under the banner of 'Pizzas for Peace.'"

As far as me, Beth is right—I am a "pumpkin pie kind of woman." Like pumpkin pie, I search for authenticity in my life and relationships—no drama, please, just pure, uncomplicated and unconditional love. Yet, I hope to always add some spice to my interactions, too, just like that wonderful taste and aroma cinnamon brings to that dear pumpkin.

So, what kind of pie woman or man are you? If you're having trouble deciding, one of my interviewees told me while she was pondering her answer, a coworker googled the concept and found the following website:
 http://www.blogthings.com/whatkindofpieareyouquiz.
I resisted checking it out until I finished this entry. Now I think I'll go see what it suggests…

And by the way, Beth, what kind of pie woman are you? I have trouble seeing you as coconut cream pie…

Imagination Migration

"He who has imagination without learning has wings but no feet." Joseph Joubert

Learning usually does enhance our imagination. But sometimes the reality new knowledge brings can leave us with feeling we've lost a little wonder. Has that ever happened to you?

 Before you say no, think Easter Bunny, Santa Claus. While we usually associate these experiences with childhood, losses like that can happen at any age.

Recently, I learned the Monarch butterflies that leave our Island before the winter sets in do not fly all the way to Mexico. That discovery was a bit like losing Santa Claus all over again. My friend, Stu, explained, "It's several generations later that get there." 

My first reaction, disappointment. My second, questions: How did I live this long and never learn this fact? Was it because I never really wanted to know? Or was it because I chose to embrace the mythic concept that this very small fragile being could fly all those miles?

Although, this is my second post that mentions the Monarch butterfly, I'm not usually that absorbed with nature. I have no pets, and unlike my grandson, Joe, who could remain glued to the Animal Planet channel in his younger years, I never watch those shows. For me, I guess the fascination with what I thought was the true Monarch story was the tenacity and bravery the small creature exhibited.

There's definitely an allure to winged creatures—consider angels, Superman, birds, in addition to butterflies—soaring high on a mission. They spark our imagination as we envision them far above us.

I reflect again on what I've learned about the Monarch and how it takes several generations to reach their destination, and the succeeding generations it takes to return to our Island in the spring. And I find I can relate the promise their migration holds to that of our human story.

Like these butterflies, we hold the promise of our future with the knowledge our children and our children's children will accomplish what we first set to do. Yet, our role is key, too, for without us beginning the journey, that could not happen. I now view the Monarch's odyssey in a new light and appreciation. It, too, can ignite the imagination of our own migration.

Thanks, Stu! 

The Last Harvest of Summer

"Lord, it is time. The summer was very big. Lay thy shadow on the sundials, and on the meadows let the winds go loose. Command the last fruits that they shall be full; give them another two more southerly days, press them on to fulfillment…"

-     Rainer Maria Rilke

Several days ago, while driving home from my writers' group meeting, I saw a most beautiful sight — monarch butterflies floating through the sky like gigantic orange snowflakes. So lovely, so fragile, these harbingers of fall. Like me, they also do not want summer to end. Some linger on the goldenrod on the sand dunes drinking in the sweet nectar of the still warm sun.

Yet, it is time for them to go. Autumn will begin as it always does. But before I put the summer season to rest, I go outside to pick the last vestiges of basil. I bury my nose in the sweet fragrance. I love basil; it's the essence of summer. And I lament its passing.

I read a gardening article once in which someone referred to basil as the wimpy herb. I don't agree. It's a robust, wise herb, a distinctive and discriminating herb that chooses not to continue growing once the cold sets in, just as the monarch is wise enough to migrate.

Before the basil grows woody and the leaves drop, I pick as much as I can to give it that one last hurrah. I've tried freezing and drying, but the wonderfully unique taste pales, so instead, I celebrate basil's royalty by making pesto.

Pesto is a great way to use up your basil as well as your tomatoes. You can freeze pesto in ice cube trays and use a small amount in a dip, soup, pasta, on grilled chicken, or in bread recipes.Here's a few of my favorite recipes:

Tomato Pesto Sauce: This also helps use up some of the parsley and tomatoes in your garden. Serves approx. 8
1 cup fresh basil leaves .
½ cup parsley

2 garlic cloves

¼ to ⅓ freshly grated Parmesan or Romano cheese (I prefer Romano)

1/4 cup olive oil
3 Tbsp. pine nuts
2 cloves of garlic
1 large seeded tomato
2 Tbsp chicken broth (Add less or more depending on how thick you like your pesto sauce)

1. Place all ingredients in a food processor and blend, either chopped or smooth depending on preference.
2. A serving is usually about ¼ cup per person. Mix with pasta or baste grilled chicken or fish.

NOTE: This pesto sauce recipe is not the characteristic green because tomato is added.

Pesto sauce: For the purists who prefer the traditional green. Serves approx. 4
                                      

      1 cup fresh basil leaves

       2 cloves of garlic

       ⅓ cup freshly grated Parmesan or Romano cheese

       3 Tbsp. pine nuts                                    

      ⅔ cup chicken or vegetable broth (Add less if you like a thicker sauce)

  

1. Place all ingredients in a food processor and blend, either chopped or    smooth depending on preference.
2. A serving is usually about ¼ cup per person. Mix with pasta or baste grilled chicken or fish.


Bread Machine Pesto Bread: Another wonderful way to enjoy the bounty of your garden.

1 cup buttermilk (I always keep powdered buttermilk on hand for recipes)
⅓ cup dry white wine
3 Tbsp freshly grated Parmesan cheese
3 Tbsp pesto
3 ⅓ cups bread flour
2 cloves of garlic
1 Tbsp sugar

¾tsp salt

1 tsp active dry yeast or bread machine yeast

Add ingredients to machine according to manufacturer's directions. I prefer using the dough cycle, then shaping rolls or use a bread loaf pan, but this bread works just as well on the basic baking cycle. If you use the dough cycle, when finished, punch the dough down, then shape, place in a greased pan. Cover and let rise for 30 minutes. Bake at 350º for 10 to 15 minutes for rolls, 20 minutes for a loaf, or until brown.

NOTE: Pesto can also be made using a mortar and pestle if you don't have a food processor. It will take a little longer, but definitely burn more calories! I have an Italian friend who wouldn't do it any other way.

Once my pesto is ready, I pour a glass of wine to toast this last harvest of summer. I look out the window and see a few stray monarchs floating by. "Go," I whisper, "Go. It's time. Fly away to your next summer place."

For "…now in September the garden has cooled…
The harvest has dwindled, and I have grown apart
from the intense midsummer relationship that
                    brought it..."                           Robert Finch

Collections Happen

"One cannot collect all the beautiful shells on the beach. One can collect only a few, and they are more beautiful if they are few." Anne Morrow Lindbergh 

While my knowledge of Anne Morrow Lindbergh is mainly from her wonderful book, Gifts from the Sea, this quote suggests she's a minimalist. A wonderful "less is more" approach to life, but not the image of a true collector. I see many seashell collectors since I live at the beach. And none of them limit themselves to "collecting only a few." Their shell theme goes much further. Their houses are filled with pictures, dishes, towels, shower curtains, and furniture covers, inside and out, with a shell motif.

Collections happen. I came to this conclusion after some time of study. My education began innocently enough at our local library where a rectangular case with the sole purpose of displaying collections resides in the lobby. The collections are often unusual. Consider a sea of Smurfs. Remember those funny looking little blue…men, boys, elves, martians? Marionettes and Pez containers were two more exotic displays.

Why do we feel compelled to collect? And why do we choose the things we do? Or do our collectables choose us? Some anthropologists suggest our need to collect may be connected to an earlier point on our evolutionary journey. Susan Pearce, author of Interpreting Objects and Collections, says one in three North Americans collect something. Where are you on the spectrum? Before you say you're not the one in three, check your drawers and closets. Do you accumulate photos, ticket stubs, CDs?

After conducting further nonscientific research, I realized collectors are not born on the same motivational paths.

Consider the following groups:

The Indiana Jones: For this collector, it's all about the quest. Fellow blogger, Sandy, collects fine musical instruments and confesses, "For me, it's all about the conquest. I enjoy the ones I have, but my mind is already moving onto what I want next." On her search list: an antique banjo.

The Accidental Tourist: This is my category. I don't know how my collection of small bunnies began, but like real life rabbits they've multiplied rapidly. My two favorites sit on each side of my computer and I consider them my Muses since they always smile encouragement when I sit down and sweat in front of a blank screen.


The Reluctant Joiner: This is a person who never wanted to be an accumulator. Someone told me about a woman she met who had a bird house collection. "You must really love birds," my friend said to her. The woman looked at her. "Birds? Why would you think that?" It all began one Christmas when three people gave her the same gift. You guessed it — bird houses. Before she could return them, her birthday arrived, along with — right again — more bird houses.

The Sensualist: Stu, a member of my writers' group, collects fine porcelain Madonna figures. I saw his collection when it graced our library case. Stu is a discriminating connoisseur. He only adds to his collection when he sees an exceptional piece. His joy is in the loveliness of the art.

The Banker: My significant other, Will, began collecting commemorative quarters in 1999. He's sure they'll be worth more than a quarter each once the Treasury completes the series. The way the economy is going, I think he'll be lucky to break even. Still, it's nice to have something financial to think you can fall back on…

The Torch Carrier: The last display in the library case was a multitude of egg cups. One was labeled "Ginger." Aha, someone else to question. Ginger happens to be the library person with the challenge of setting up displays. "I began collecting egg cups because my mother collected them," she explained. So she just fell into her collection, so to speak. It's nice to know her mother's passion will live on. I wonder if one of Ginger's children will continue the tradition.

The Identity Seeker: The minute she saw the red satin pig with rhinestone eyes in Neiman Marcus, Nancy had to have it since it was time to do something nice for herself. Her Independence Pig became the first of many. Years later, when she was in a different emotional place, she was ready to move on. The defining moment, she says, was when a friend said, "Every time I see a pig, I think of you." Definitely time to find her menagerie another home.

The Memory Seekers: There's a little bit of this in all of us. Photos, ticket stubs, concert programs, but especially pictures evoke memories of our lives. My screensaver consists of a rolling picture show. California trips intermixed with Florida winters, cruises, family members at various ages, and even images I've used in blog postings. Walter Benjamin, a German writer and essayist, said it best: "Every passion borders on the chaotic, but the collector's passion borders on the chaos of memories."

The Knowledge seeker: I read once that everyone should be an expert on something. Do you have enough knowledge to speak to a particular topic? The Gettysburg battle? The life cycle of Barbie dolls? This is my wannabe collector status. All I have to do is find out what the one thing is that I'm more interested in than anything else… But maybe that's a blog for another day.

Seriously, if you haven't started collecting, think about doing so. It helps people know what to buy you for your birthday, gives you a reason to go to flea markets and yard sales, and hides the dust on your window sills. Join the ranks of the many!