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| From Regina Frost display, Feb.10, 2022 |
Yesterday’s hopes
glowed weakly
as if never before
present
Today’s beliefs
glow steadily
grown each day from
experience
Tomorrow’s reality
glows dream-like
sketched in wisps of colour ~
possibility
“Our heart glows, and secret unrest gnaws at the root of our being.”
~ Carl Jung
Turning dreams into reality was not as easy as either of the twins thought it would be. It had been easy and exciting in the beginning. It became a story about family secrets and how life is stifled because of them. It is about the courage that it takes to make necessary, and sometimes unwelcome changes. Desiree and Stella, from the fictional southern community of Mallard, disappeared one night after a town event.They just ran away to New Orleans. Desiree convinced Stella to run, but it was Stella who never returned to stay. Cramped in a tiny basement apartment, not knowing anyone, they struggled to find jobs, their lives revolving in ways they never dreamed.
The Vanishing Half is about more than two teenagers running away from a community where they felt cramped and stifled. Brit Bennett has beautifully written a story about one of the complexities of being Negro. A sort of internal class system based on skin colour. * “In Mallard, nobody married dark.” Desiree did ‘marry dark’. Her only child, Jude, had extremely dark skin ~ the Mallard community called her ‘blueblack’. When she and her mother returned to Mallard, Jude was not treated well by her school mates because of the colour of her skin. Stella slipped into being white which, over time, became a lie that consumed her life. In her life of privilege, she hid her secret beginnings from her husband, Blake and their daughter, Kennedy. One of the experiences for Stella and Desiree as children was seeing their father brutally killed by white men. They each responded to this experience in different ways. For Desiree, it was merely a past. For Stella, it was a trauma that underlined her desire to disappear into whiteness.
Jude, Desiree’s shy and black skinned daughter and Kennedy, Stella’s spoiled, arrogant ‘white’ daughter met by accident. Jude, searching for her mother Desiree’s sister, had almost given up on every finding her. When she did, convincing Kennedy that they were cousins was her challenge.
Almost as an afterthought, one other secret crept into Jude’s life. It showed another way that people are compelled to change their selves and their image. Her boyfriend hid his gender from her. They were deeply in love. His gender change was never openly discussed, as most family secrets are never discussed. Jude and Reese loved each other without reservation regardless of society’s norm. Was this really an afterthought?
Another interesting character, Early Jones is a man who Desiree knew as a teen. Her mother did not like him because he was 'dark' and had a past. Drifting through his life, he was a man who could 'find' people for a price. He and Desiree met again when she returned to Mallard when Jude was a child. Their relationship was honest and real, but not conventional. Early supported Desiree from his various hotel rooms or the back seat of his car. When her mother, Adel Vignes, developed Azheimer's Disease, Early returned to live in Mallard to help with her care. Getting a steady job, he also chose to change his life.
I was quite impressed with this well written story. It did stall later in the book, but the story kept me reading. Did I like all the characters? For the most part, I did. Some of their behaviours I did not, but given their back stories, I understood them. A book to keep and to re-read.
*“She hadn't realized how long it takes to become somebody else, or how lonely it can be living in a world not meant for you.”
~ Brit Bennett, The Vanishing Half
*Chapter 1, Page 5
Title: The Vanishing Half
Author: Brit Bennett
Copyright: 2020
Publisher: Riverhead Books, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
Type: Novel
Format: Hard Cover
ISBN: 9780525536291
LLC: PS3602.E66444 (ebook)
ISBN: 9780593190197 (International edition)
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| One of many - the Orient, Mexico, the U.K., the Netherlands, and India |
“How many lessons of
faith and beauty we should lose,
if there were
no winter in our year.”
~ Thomas Wentworth Higginson
“Living in a way that is…….well, confusing…I’m just so tired of it!” Jeremy and Emelina were walking along the waterfront. A second honeymoon on their first anniversary, Jeremy had reserved a room at the same resort from the year before. Emelina leaned into him. “What is confusing, honey? Something at work?... Of course it is. You haven’t been any other place, except out to the Estate. …..Isn’t it beautiful out here. So calm.” She took a deep breath of the cool evening air, snuggling against her husband. “Your jacket’s not warm enough, Em! Here ~ I’ll wrap you in my big strong arms and warm you up. I’ll forget about all that confusing stuff.” Wrapped around each other, they resumed their slow walk.
~~~~~
But they did talk about ‘all that confusing stuff’. In their little cabin, they ordered supper in from We Cater to You, a specialty restaurant a few blocks away. Creamy mashed potatoes, roast capons with lemon and thyme, and asparagus. There were two silver pitchers of hollandaise sauce for the asparagus. Jeremy poured his hollandaise over it all. “Jeremy! That’s just for the asparagus.” Emelina, her fork holding two sprigs of asparagus hung in midair, laughed at her husband. She put the fork down and, using her napkin, touched her lips. Her husband sat up, wiped his mouth, and sighed deeply. “That’s what I mean, Em. Confusing. For days I am up to my ears in the tragic sadness of sickness, with barriers of that damned PPE. The smell of antiseptics and sickness. Today I was suddenly driving away from it all, my windows rolled down and fresh air on my bare face. The aroma of pine trees dripping with winter rain and knowing I was coming to you.” He paused and looked down at his scraped clean plate. “This is the best meal I’ve eaten for a very long time. Except of course the last meal Cook made for us.”
~~~~~
“Then this week is just what you need. And what I need! You may be up to your elbows in all your medical things, but I’ve had my own confusing episodes. Long, long spaces of time when no one is in the house but me. When in town, everyone is masked. Does anyone smile at me? Then there is the strange gentleman on the corner of main and Edward with is big scrawled signs about how vaccines will kill. I think of you taking care of people like him and want to scream.” Her voice trembled. “But we’re not going too talk about all of that. We’ve got an entire week to let it all go.” She pushed her chair back. “Let’s walk again. We’ll stay outside as much as possible. Except when it’s time to sleep.” A smile crept slowly across her face.
~~~~~
Over the next week, the couple walked miles up and down the beach. They talked. They laughed. They stopped at a teashop where Em bought them matching bracelets. “You know I won’t be able to wear mine at work Em.” She nodded. “I know, Jeremy, but I’ll wear mine every day, then you’ll be with me every day keeping us together.... That probably sounds silly.” Jeremy took her hand. “Not silly at all, sweetheart.”
“Confusion is a luxury which only the very, very young
can possibly afford and you are not that young anymore.”
~ James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room
Integrity held fast. It was only a dollar. Easy enough to just slip it in his pocket and keep quiet. Mason felt bad enough shivering on the cold wet pavement, a paper coffee cup sitting empty in front of him. People only tossed him a coin and kept walking without saying anything. Once in awhile some man or woman would greet him with a smile. This woman looked like she could afford losing a dollar. Not rich, but when she stood at her car, Mason knew she was better off than him.
“Ma’am? Excuse me please. This fell out of your purse when you pulled out your keys.” Mason held the dollar out to her. She turned abruptly. “What?!” Mason stepped back. “Your dollar ma’am.” Her face softened. “I’m sorry. You just surprised me. I didn’t know there was anyone else on the sidewalk. Not in such a good mood, the bank’s closed…… but then you don’t need to hear my troubles. Keep the dollar and here…no I have a better idea. That diner across the street is open.” The woman hesitated. “That is, if you’ll come with me.”
“Conduct reveals character, and we best understand integrity
when we see it lived out in a person’s life.”
~ Charles H. Dyer, Character Counts
As I said in my blog last night, my story tonight is a revision, a correction if you like. From a Writer’s group last week, I wrote a story, using the last line from My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult, mistakenly as the first line of my story. That last line was “I take her with me, wherever I go.” This last line was actually to be the last line of my story. So I took my error as a challenge. The challenge? To write the same story but change the position of this ‘last line’.
Changing Places ~ Version Two
Beliefs take time. I had believed that she was some sort of good luck charm. It was past time that I let go of this precious. That’s what I had called her then. When people asked me her name, I told them it was Molly, not wanting people to think I wasn’t grown up. Now Molly is smudged and is missing one eye. Her hair, once neon red, is now a strange shade of 60 year old dusty red. Her face still smiles at me from her perch on the bed. No wrinkles like mine. She was given to me on my tenth birthday. She still wears the beautiful mauve dress, now faded, that has a yellowed and frayed lace collar. Unless I take it to be washed, the greyness of the years makes it look dirty. At one time, she had lovely little socks. Knitted white with a frothy lace-fringed fold over top. Now, only one sock is left, but she wears it anyway.
Cindy, my six year old granddaughter came rushing in the back door one Sunday morning. “Look Grandma! I brought Molly some new socks. They’re almost exactly the same. See. Except the lace. But there’s pretty shiny ribbon around the edge.” She had always played with Molly when she came to see her Gran. Sometimes she would help me pack when I would travel, always wanting Molly in the exact middle cuddled in one of my sweaters. One day she was very quiet as I was getting ready to go off on my travels. “Cindy. It’s time to settle Molly so we can go on our trip.” She clutched Molly to her and said “Grandma, why do you still take her with you when you go away?” Her serious six year old tone deserved an honest answer. “Well, she has been my companion and friend on my travels. And do you know what, she is a memory of another little doll I had been given, another precious doll who was destroyed by a mischievous five-year old. On that birthday so long ago, I vowed to her that she would be taken care of and that I would take her with me wherever I went. My serious little Cindy furrowed her little brow and asked “Do you think she’s getting tired of being stuffed in your suitcase when you go away? I think she is.” I smiled inside and tried to look as thoughtful as possible. “You know honey, I really think she is quite tired and really would rather stay here with you….if that’s alright.” Her little face lit up with smiles. “Really grandma?! But won’t you get lonesome?” I hugged her to me. “No, but I will be happy that my Molly is safe with you.” She pulled away and with that precious serious little face, she nodded her head sternly and said “Now it’s my turn. I take her with me, wherever I go.”
“Even if people are still very young,
they shouldn’t be prevented from saying what they think.”
~ Anne Frank
This story is spun from the last line of the novel My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Pocoult - ‘I take her with me, wherever I go.’ Our Writers’ group assignment, I mistakenly thought this line was to be the first line of our assignment! It was to be the last line of the story. I’ll have that revision tomorrow evening. Words are so malleable!
Here is the original story, spun from the last line of My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Pocoult - ‘I take her with me, wherever I go.’ It was written for Victoria Writer’s Group held last Wednesday over Zoom:
‘I take her with me, wherever I go.’ Molly is soft and smudged. Her hair, once neon red, is now strange shade of 60 year old dusty red. Her face still smiles at me from her perch on the bed. No wrinkles like mine. She still wears the beautiful lavender dress she wore on that birthday long ago, now faded with a frayed lace collar. Unless I take it off her to be washed, covering her tenderly with her blanket, the greyness of the years makes it look dirty. At one time, she had lovely little socks. Knitted white with a laced fringed fold over top. Now, one sock is left, but she wears it anyway. My granddaughter asked one day “Grandma, why do you still take her with you when you go away?” She has been my companion and confidante on long journeys or just as my quiet friend. More than that she is a memory of another little doll I had been given. A doll who went the way of a mischievous child’s destructive nature. My childhood’s vow was that she would be taken care of and I would take her with me, wherever I go. Tiring of being stuffed in a suitcase or carryon, when I go away, she prefers to stay with my granddaughter.
Changing Places
‘I take her with me, wherever I go.’ Molly is soft and smudged. Her hair, once neon red, is now a strange shade of 60 year old dusty red. Her face still smiles at me from her perch on the bed. No wrinkles like mine. She was given to me on my tenth birthday. She still wears the beautiful blue dress, now faded, that has a yellowed and frayed lace collar. Unless I take it to be washed, the greyness of the years makes it look dirty. At one time, she had lovely little socks. Knitted white with a frothy lace-fringed fold over top. Now, only one sock is left, but she wears it anyway.
My granddaughter asked one day “Grandma, why do you still take her with you when you go away?” Well, she has been my companion and friend on long journeys. Even more, she is a memory of another little doll I had been given. A doll who was destroyed by a mischievous five year old who didn’t seem to know any better. On that birthday, I vowed that she would be taken care of and I would take her with me, wherever I go.” My granddaughter looked awfully serious, and puzzled. She looked up at me and asked “Do you think she’s getting tired of being stuffed in your suitcase when you go away?” I smiled inside and tried to look as thoughtful as possible. “You know, honey, I really thing she’d is quite tired and really would rather stay with you..… if that’s alright.” Her little face lit up with smiles. “Really, grandma?! Won’t you get lonesome?” I hugged her to me. “No, but I will be happy that my Molly is safe with you.”
“Dolls are safe companions.”
~ Louisa May Alcott
~~~~~
