The Day Jan and I Married!

The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate ― Discoveries from A Secret World is a book I have wanted but had not had the time to read. In July of this year, when I was still in the early stages of my recovery journey, I talked to a friend of my wife’s (whom I now count as my friend) about our plans to plant a tree in Hanson Park.

As I talked about our plans, my friend suggested I read this book as it would help me understand the importance of trees. I will forever be grateful for her recommendation, as it made me read this book sooner than later.

To read that trees have a social network with more prominent, healthier trees concerned about the smaller, weaker ones. How is it that humans, a supposedly advanced species, have a social network that divides and weakens our community?

Are trees social beings? In The Hidden Life of Trees forester and author Peter Wohlleben convincingly makes the case that, yes, the forest is a social network. He draws on groundbreaking scientific discoveries to describe how trees are like human families: tree parents live together with their children, communicate with them, support them as they grow, share nutrients with those who are sick or struggling, and even warn each other of impending dangers. Wohlleben also shares his deep love of woods and forests, explaining the amazing processes of life, death, and regeneration he has observed in his woodland.

Having read this book, I am more sensitive to trees and have enjoyed my walks more than ever. In addition, when we plant Jan’s tree in Hanson Park, I will now have even more reasons to talk about the importance of trees to Jan, myself, and the community.

Subscribe

Contact Us

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 Creation Lake: A Novel by Rachel Kushner, a two-time finalist for the Booker Prize and the National Book Award. This novel follows a seductive and cunning American woman who infiltrates an anarchist collective in France. It is a gripping page-turner filled with dark humor. Creation Lake is Kushner‘s finest achievement—a work of high art, comedy, and unforgettable pleasure.

The story revolves around a secret agent, a thirty-four-year-old American woman who employs ruthless tactics and possesses striking beauty. She is sent to carry out covert operations in France. The narrator introduces herself as “Sadie Smith” when she arrives at a rural commune of French subversives, whom she is secretly monitoring, and to her lover, Lucien, a young and well-to-do Parisian whom she meets by so-called “cold bump”—making him believe their encounter was accidental. Like everyone else she targets, Lucien is helpful to her and ultimately manipulated by her. Sadie operates with strategy and deception, following instructions from her “contacts”—shadowy figures in business and government. Initially, these contacts want her to provoke reactions. As the story progresses, their demands become more complex.

In this region filled with ancient farms and prehistoric caves, Sadie becomes captivated by a mysterious figure named Bruno Lacombe. Bruno mentors young activists who believe that the path to emancipation lies not in revolt but in a return to the ancient past. Just as Sadie thinks she is the seductress and puppet master of those she surveils, Bruno enchants her with his ingenious counter-histories, poignant laments, and tragic narrative.

In brief, striking sections, Rachel Kushner‘s interpretation of “noir” is taut and dazzling.

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 began reading “Corey Fah Does Social Mobility: A Novel” by Isabel Waidner. The book is about Corey Fah, a writer whose novel has just won the Fictionalization of Social Evils prize. Despite this achievement, the trophy and funds with the award still need to be in reach. The novel celebrates radical queer survival and challenges false notions of success.

Corey, their partner Drew, and their pet spider, Bambi Pavok, embark on a quest to find an elusive trophy with neon-beige color and UFO-like qualities. This journey takes them back to their childhood in the forest and includes a stint on a reality TV show. While facing the horrors of wormholes and time loops, Corey discovers the difference between a prize and a gift in a complex way.

Following the Goldsmiths Prize–winning Sterling Karat Gold, Isabel Waidner’s bold and buoyant new novel is about coming into one’s own, the labor of love, the tendency of history to repeat itself, and what ensues when a large amount of cultural capital is suddenly deposited in a place it has never been before.

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.

My journey with “Lincoln in the Bardo: A Novel” by George Saunders began with recognition as one of The New York Times’ 100 Best Books of the Century. As I turned its pages, I was immersed in its profound exploration of living and loving in the face of inevitable endings. The book, which struck a personal chord with me after a loss, is a testament to Saunders’ storytelling prowess and a must-read for those interested in Abraham Lincoln.

February 1862. The Civil War is less than one year old. The fighting has begun in earnest, and the nation has already realized it is in for a long, bloody struggle. Meanwhile, President Lincoln’s beloved eleven-year-old son, Willie, lies upstairs in the White House, gravely ill. In a matter of days, despite predictions of a recovery, Willie dies and is laid to rest in a Georgetown cemetery. “My poor boy, he was too good for this earth,” the president says at the time. “God has called him home.” Newspapers report that a grief-stricken Lincoln returns, alone, to the crypt several times to hold his boy’s body.

From a seed of historical truth, George Saunders weaves an unforgettable tale of familial love and loss that transcends its realistic, historical framework. The story takes a daring leap into a realm that is hilarious and terrifyingly supernatural. Willie Lincoln’s journey in a strange purgatory, where ghosts mingle, gripe, commiserate, quarrel, and enact bizarre acts of penance, is a testament to Saunders’ imaginative prowess. The monumental struggle over young Willie’s soul in this transitional state, known as the bardo in the Tibetan tradition, is a narrative that will leave you spellbound.

Lincoln in the Bardo is an astonishing feat of imagination and a bold step forward from one of his generation’s most important and influential writers. Formally daring, generous in spirit, and deeply concerned with matters of the heart, it is a testament to fiction’s ability to speak honestly and powerfully about the things that matter to us. Saunders has invented a thrilling new form that deploys a kaleidoscopic, theatrical panorama of voices to ask a timeless, profound question: How do we live and love when we know everything we love must end?

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 Night Swim by Megan Goldin is a book that I thought would be different from the last two books – Sarah’s Key and Send for Me – that I had read. Both of those were directly or indirectly about the Holocaust. I often selected this book from the e-library based on reviews and reading the sample section.

The Night Swim was a page-turner, but it also was about numerous social issues that Jan ad I had spent our lives working to resolve.

Among these are male violence and its impact directly and indirectly on women. Rachel Krall, a podcaster, spoke about how male violence had impacted her. Two of the other female characters were either a victim or the sister of a victim. Having spent my life trying not to exhibit male violence, I was reminded while reading his novel of how painful it can be and the impact of micro-aggressions.

I knew that the author had done her research when I realized that. Ms. Goldin set the story in Neapolis, a fictional town on the outer banks of North Carolina. Neapolis, which in Latin means “New Town,” is also the old Roman name for the biblical city of Sheechem, where the rape of Dinah took place.

I missed the role of the Nightingale as it appears more as a background piece and not a primary role. Of course, this is a subtle reference by the author to Greek mythology and the rape of Philomela by her sisters’ husband. Her assailant cut out her tongue to prevent her from speaking of the crime. She was turned into a nightingale to escape. That is why female nightingales cannot sing. The one in the novel never sings and is rescued by Rachel at the end of the book.

Rachel narrates two sections of the novel, first with her on-the-ground work at the trial and second with her podcasts.

Hannah’s narrative is initially only in letters and then emails.

This format helped move the story along and make the story unfold in unique ways.

The following is a summary from Goodreads.

After the first season of her true-crime podcast became an overnight sensation and set an innocent man free, Rachel Krall is now a household name―and the last hope for thousands of people seeking justice. But she’s used to being recognized for her voice, not her face. Which makes it all the more unsettling when she finds a note on her car windshield, addressed to her, begging for help.

The small town of Neapolis is being torn apart by a devastating rape trial. The town’s golden boy, a swimmer, destined for Olympic greatness, has been accused of raping a high school student, the beloved granddaughter of the police chief. Under pressure to make Season Three a success, Rachel throws herself into interviewing and investigating―but the mysterious letters keep showing up in unexpected places. Someone is following her, and she won’t stop until Rachel finds out what happened to her sister twenty-five years ago. Officially, Jenny Stills tragically drowned, but the letters insist she was murdered―and when Rachel starts asking questions, nobody seems to want to answer. The past and present start to collide as Rachel uncovers startling connections between the two cases that will change the course of the trial and the lives of everyone involved.

Electrifying and propulsive, The Night Swim asks: What is the price of a reputation? Can a small town ever right the wrongs of its past? And what happened to Jenny?

I highly recommend this novel and look forward to reading more of Ms. Goldin’s work.

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 began reading Tom Lake by Ann Patchett. The novel beautifully explores family, love, and growing up. Patchett once again proves herself as one of America’s finest writers. Both hopeful and mournful, it explores happiness even when the world falls apart.

The story follows Lara’s three daughters, who return to the family’s orchard in Northern Michigan in the spring of 2020. While picking cherries, they ask their mother about Peter Duke, a famous actor with whom she had a romance years before at a theater company called Tom Lake.

As Lara reminisces, her daughters are confronted with their own lives and relationships with their mothers, leading them to reevaluate everything they thought they knew. With its hopeful and mournful tone, the novel is a testament to the transformative power of understanding what happiness truly means, even amid chaos. Patchett’s compelling narrative artistry and profound insights into family dynamics weave a rich and luminous story, showcasing why she is one of our time’s most revered and acclaimed literary talents.

I have also read Patchett’s Bel Canto, a compelling tale that explores themes of strength, vulnerability, love, and confinement. It ultimately tells an inspiring story of transcendent romance.

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.

Subscribe

Contact Us

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.