I Have Covid!

I have started reading “Whale Fall: A Novel” by Elizabeth O’Connor. With its unique blend of loss, isolation, folklore, and the journey of self-discovery, this debut novel offers a compelling narrative set in 1938 on a remote Welsh island. The story is catalyzed by the arrival of a dead whale, a powerful symbol that sets the stage for the characters’ journeys.

The story revolves around Manod, a young woman who has spent her entire life on the island. Despite their island home’s harsh yet stunning surroundings, Manod yearns to explore life beyond it, a desire that will resonate with many readers.

As two English ethnographers arrive to study the island’s culture, Manod sees it as a potential escape from her community. However, her growing involvement with them triggers a profound internal conflict. She grapples with the dilemma of pursuing her desires or remaining loyal to her community. This struggle resonates with the universal human experience, making it a compelling read for many.

‘Whale Fall‘ vividly portrays the tensions that surface when one person’s aspirations threaten the unity of a community. O’Connor’s narrative skillfully depicts the community and Manod on the brink, forced to confront a world that seems to infringe upon them. This evokes a sense of admiration for O’Connor’s storytelling prowess, making it a must-read for literary fiction enthusiasts.

Richard W. Brown

After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.

Today, I explored “The Sorrow Apartments,” the eighth collection of poems by poet Andrea Cohen. Renowned poet Christian Wiman accurately describes Cohen’s work as a “cumulative force,” showcasing her deep attention, genuine intelligence, and soul. Cohen’s distinctive talents are featured in this collection, complemented by her characteristic sly humor, unwavering conciseness, and surprising moments of profound wisdom.

It’s astonishing how swiftly Cohen transports us:

Bunker

What would I
think, coming

up after
my world

had evaporated?
I’d wish

I were water.

The Sorrow Apartments house a collection of sparse and haunting poetry, each piece a captivating narrative of mystery, grief, and awe. These poems transport us not just across time but also through a spectrum of emotions. Cohen’s unique approach to illumination is evident in “Acapulco,” where an unanticipated companion muses, “as men tend to, / the stars comprising Orion’s belt — / as if it were the lustrous sparks and not / the leveling dark that connects us.” For a poet often deemed unfashionable, Cohen’s work proves that unfashionable can be beautiful.

Richard W. Brown

After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.

Today, I started reading “Clear: A Novel” by Carys Davies. It’s a stunning and exquisite novel written by an award-winning author. The story follows John, a Scottish minister who is sent to a remote island off the coast of Scotland to evict the last remaining inhabitant, Ivar. However, Ivar is unwilling to leave, and John’s wife, Mary, has severe misgivings about the task.

Shortly after arriving on the island, John falls off a cliff and is badly injured. Ivar finds him and takes him home, where he tends to his wounds. John and Ivar understand each other despite the language barrier and the fragile connection that forms.

The story takes place in the 1840s, during the Scottish Clearances, a period of forced evictions that saw many rural communities lose their homes. The novel explores the differences and connections between people, the impact of history on our beliefs, and the resilience of the human spirit.

“Clear” is a moving, unpredictable, sensitive, and spellbinding novel. It is a profound and pleasurable read that will stay with you long after you finish the last page.

Richard W. Brown

After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.

The Immortal Irishman: The Irish Revolutionary Who Became an American Hero by Timothy Egan is a book I started reading as The Worst Hard Timesincluded the first fifty pages.

I often only read a few pages and then return the book to the e-library. The Immortal Irishman was not the case, and I could not stop reading and borrowed the book immediately.

I had never heard of Thomas Francis Meagher or his life in Ireland or America. The story was fascinating, unique, and essential.

The Irish-American story, with all its twists and triumphs, is told through the improbable life of one man. A dashing young orator during the Great Famine of the 1840s, in which a million of his Irish countrymen died, Thomas Francis Meagher led a failed uprising against British rule, for which he was banished to a Tasmanian prison colony. He escaped and six months later was heralded in the streets of New York – the revolutionary hero, back from the dead, at the dawn of the great Irish immigration to America.

Meagher’s rebirth in America included his leading the newly formed Irish Brigade from New York in many of the fiercest battles of the Civil War – Bull Run, Antietam, Fredericksburg. Twice shot from his horse while leading charges, left for dead in the Virginia mud, Meagher’s dream was that Irish-American troops, seasoned by war, would return to Ireland and liberate their homeland from British rule.

The hero’s last chapter, as territorial governor of Montana, was a romantic quest for a true home in the far frontier. His death has long been a mystery to which Egan brings haunting, colorful new evidence.

I recommend this book.

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Richard W. Brown

After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.

The Last White Man by Mohsin Hamid is a story of love, loss, and rediscovery in a time of unsettling change. One morning, Anders, the novel’s protagonist,  wakes to find that his skin has turned dark, his reflection a stranger to him. At first, he tells only Oona, an old friend, newly a lover. Soon, reports of similar occurrences surface across the land.

In Mohsin Hamid’s “lyrical and urgent” prose (O Magazine), The Last White Man powerfully uplifts our capacity for empathy and the transcendence over bigotry, fear, and anger it can achieve.

I highly recommend this book. It was a page-turner that kept me thinking about love, loss, and rediscovery. All three are subjects close to my heart since Jan’s death.

I decided to read the book after hearing an interview with the author on All of It on WNYC.

One morning, Anders wakes to find that his skin has turned dark, his reflection a stranger to him. At first he tells only Oona, an old friend, newly a lover. Soon, reports of similar occurrences surface across the land. Some see in the transformations the long-dreaded overturning of an established order, to be resisted to a bitter end. In many, like Anders’s father and Oona’s mother, a sense of profound loss wars with profound love. As the bond between Anders and Oona deepens, change takes on a different shading: a chance to see one another, face to face, anew.

Hamid’s The Last White Man invites us to envision a future – our future – that dares to reimagine who we think we are, and how we might yet be together.

The Jan Lilien Education Fund sponsors ongoing sustainability and environmental awareness programs. Gifts made this month; I will match dollar-for-dollar. All donations are tax-deductible.

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I receive a commission when you buy a book or product using a link on this page. Thank you for supporting Sharing Jan’s Love blog.

Richard W. Brown

After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.

How Democracies Die: What History Reveals About Our Future by Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt was on my reading list for almost a year. In late December of last year, I started reading it and was in the final chapter on January 6, 2021. Like many of us, I never in my life expected to see a day like that in our country.

This type of event is one the authors talk about in their book.

According to the overview in GoodReads,

Donald Trump’s presidency has raised a question that many of us never thought we’d be asking: Is our democracy in danger? Harvard professors Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt have spent more than twenty years studying the breakdown of democracies in Europe and Latin America, and they believe the answer is yes. Democracy no longer ends with a bang–in a revolution or military coup–but with a whimper: the slow, steady weakening of critical institutions, such as the judiciary and the press, and the gradual erosion of long-standing political norms. The good news is that there are several exit ramps on the road to authoritarianism. The bad news is that, by electing Trump, we have already passed the first one.

Drawing on decades of research and a wide range of historical and global examples, from 1930s Europe to contemporary Hungary, Turkey, and Venezuela, to the American South during Jim Crow, Levitsky and Ziblatt show how democracies die–and how ours can be saved.

Our democracy is too valuable for us to have it die. We all need to work to preserve and strengthen it. How Democracies Die is a book that everyone needs to read!

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Richard W. Brown

After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.