Mercy Street: A Novel by Jennifer Haigh is a tense, riveting story about the disparate lives intersecting at a Boston women’s clinic. The novel was named Best Book of the Year by the Washington Post, the New Yorker, and the Boston Globe. Mercy Street is a novel for right now, a story of the polarized American present. Ms. Haigh is a gifted storyteller who has written a very readable book that I highly recommend. 

I truly enjoyed Mercy Street. I had read her short story Zenith Man, and I enjoyed her storytelling skill and wanted to read her most recent novel. Until the last few pages, I was unsure how Ms. Haigh‘s intricate storylines could conclude the story. Usually, I can predict how a story will unfold well before I finish reading it. Mercy Street was a rare exception to that rule.

I have never had to run the gauntlet in front of a women’s clinic, but Ms. Haigh has made that experience so real that I could taste it. The day-to-day work of the staff and the clients was detailed and believable. The male characters, Timmy, the affable pot dealer; Anthony, a lost soul; and Excelsior11-the screenname of Victor Prine, were drafted n a credible way.

As stated earlier, I highly recommend this book.

The Goodreads summary provides an overview,

Claudia has counseled patients for almost a decade at Mercy Street, a clinic in the city’s heart. The work is consuming the unending dramas of women in crisis. For its patients, Mercy Street offers more than health care; for many, it is a second chance.

But outside the clinic, the reality is different. Anonymous threats are frequent. A small, determined group of anti-abortion demonstrators appears each morning at its door. As the protests intensify, fear creeps into Claudia’s days, a humming anxiety she manages with frequent visits to Timmy, an affable pot dealer amid his existential crisis. At Timmy’s, she encounters a random assortment of customers, including Anthony, a lost soul who spends most of his life online, chatting with the mysterious Excelsior11–the screenname of Victor Prine. This anti-abortion crusader has set his sights on Mercy Street and is ready to risk it all for his beliefs.

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.

We Were Eight Years in Power by Ta-Nehisi Coates is a collection featuring the landmark essay The Case for Reparations he wrote for The Atlantic. Even though I am a subscriber to The Atlantic and have read many of the pieces, this is a must-read book as it reflects on race, Barack Obama’s presidency, and its jarring aftermath, including the election of Donald Trump.

We were eight years in power as the lament of Reconstruction-era black politicians as the American experiment in multiracial democracy ended with the return of white supremacist rule in the South. In this sweeping collection of new and selected essays, Ta-Nehisi Coates explores the tragic echoes of that history in our own time: the unprecedented election of a black president followed by a vicious backlash that fueled the election of the man Coates argues is America’s first white president.

But the story of these present-day eight years is not just about presidential politics. This book also examines the new voices, ideas, and movements for justice that emerged over this period and the effects of the persistent, haunting shadow of our nation’s old and unreconciled history. Coates powerfully examines the events of the Obama era from his intimate and revealing perspective:” the point of view of a young writer who begins the journey in an unemployment office in Harlem and ends it in the Oval Office, interviewing a president.

We Were Eight Years in Power features Coatesa’s iconic essays first published in The Atlantic, including Fear of a Black President, The Case for Reparations, and The Black Family in the Age of Mass Incarceration, along with eight fresh essays that revisit each year of the Obama administration through Coate’s own experiences, observations, and intellectual development, capped by a bracingly original assessment of the election that fully illuminated the tragedy of the Obama era. We Were Eight Years in Power is a vital account of modern America, from one of the definitive voices of this historic moment.

I recommend this book to all readers.

Subscribe

Contact Us

I’ve begun reading Berlin: A Novel by Bea Setton. After finishing Kairos, a book set in a divided Berlin, Setton’s debut novel is witty and insightful, with a young woman battling a sense of emptiness who moves to Berlin for a fresh start. However, things go differently than planned.

Daphne, the protagonist, moves to Berlin hoping for a new beginning but deals with more drama than she left behind. She knows she needs to make friends, learn German, and navigate a new way of life. She even expects to spend long nights alone with Nutella and experience the difficulties of online dating in another language. But one night, something unexpected and unnerving happens in her apartment, and Daphne’s life suddenly turns dangerous.

Setton captures the modern female experience with sharp observations and wit, making Berlin a must-read for her generation.

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.

The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett was a true page-turner, and I did not want to stop reading it even when I got to the last page. I am not a fan of sequels, but if I was ever going to change my mind, this is the book I would want to read a sequel.

Ms. Bennett focuses on two twins who run away from home at age 16. They have grown up in Mallard, a fictional town in Louisiana. “In Mallard, nobody married dark,” Bennett writes starkly. Over time, its prejudices deepened as its population became lighter and lighter, “like a cup of coffee steadily diluted with cream.” The twins, with their “creamy skin, hazel eyes, wavy hair,” would have delighted the town’s founder. One of the women chooses to pass as white while the other does not.

The Vignes twin sisters will always be identical. But after growing up together in a small, southern black community and running away at age sixteen, it’s not just the shape of their daily lives that is different as adults, it’s everything: their families, their communities, their racial identities. Many years later, one sister lives with her black daughter in the same southern town she once tried to escape. The other passes for white, and her white husband knows nothing of her past. Still, even separated by so many miles and just as many lies, the fates of the twins remain intertwined. What will happen to the next generation, when their own daughters’ storylines intersect?

Weaving together multiple strands and generations of this family, from the Deep South to California, from the 1950s to the 1990s, Brit Bennett produces a story that is at once a riveting, emotional family story and a brilliant exploration of the American history of passing. Looking well beyond issues of race, The Vanishing Half considers the lasting influence of the past as it shapes a person’s decisions, desires, and expectations, and explores some of the multiple reasons and realms in which people sometimes feel pulled to live as something other than their origins.

The question of why people choose to live differently than their origins is one that I often ponder. Growing up in a small town and living in a metropolis raises questions for me as to what my life is now and what was once.

I strongly recommend this book.

Subscribe

Contact Us

The Missing Hours by Julia Dahl is a novel I chose to read as I was looking for something different from the recent books I have read, and a fellow reader recommended this one. The Missing Hours is a novel about obsession, privilege, and the explosive consequences of one violent act. Like a bomb exploding, the ripple effects of the novel’s primary event impact the victim and her family, friends, and the larger community.

A trigger warning to all readers, the violent act in the novel is a sexual assault that is filmed and shared. Claudia, the victim, has no memory initially of what happened. She had been drinking and wearing clothes that she liked to wear. None of her choices is an excuse for those who victimized her.

She cannot remember what happened until a friend receives the video.

Being wealthy and social media savvy, she is aware that reporting the assault before or after the video is released would only allow her to be re-victimized. Her choices and how she seeks to secure justice make this a book I enjoyed and highly recommended.

This is the Goodreads overview.

From a distance, Claudia Castro has it all: a famous family, a trust fund, thousands of Instagram followers, and a spot in NYU’s first-year class. But look closer, and things are messier: her parents are separating, she’s just been humiliated by a sleazy documentary, and her sister is about to have a baby with a man she barely knows.

Claudia starts the school year resolved to find a path toward something positive, maybe even meaningful – and then, one drunken night, everything changes. Reeling, her memory hazy, Claudia cuts herself off from her family, seeking solace in a new friendship. But when the rest of school comes back from spring break, Claudia is missing.

Suddenly, the whole city is trying to piece together the hours of that terrible night.

From the critically acclaimed author of Invisible City and Conviction, The Missing Hours is a novel about obsession, privilege, and the explosive consequences of one violent act.

Subscribe

Contact Us

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

Reading Breathe by Joyce Carol Oates was a book I knew I needed to read once Jan was diagnosed. Although the book might trigger negative memories, I finally read Breathe. It was what I needed to read at this point in my journey.

Ms. Oates wrote the book in 2019 after her husband, Charlie Gross, died. The novel is a story of love, loss, and loneliness, topics that I write about on this blog. I needed to read the book both for my mental health and for the readers of Sharing Jan’s Love.

The protagonist, Michaela, loses her husband while they are on a sabbatical in New Mexico. Her husband, Gerard, writes a book and teaches a class on memories. Jan and I never considered relocating before her illness, but this book convinced me that it would have aggravated my grief journey.

One of the parallels I observed while reading the novel is the similarity between Gerard’s reluctance to let family, friends, and co-workers know of his illness. Jan shared that reluctance in the early days, but I convinced her that the only chance of beating cancer was with the help of family and friends.

This dialogue could easily be one that Jan and I had.

Of course you want to summon his family—his (adult) children—but quickly, he says no.

Still waiting.

But – When?

Just not yet.

He is not an alarmist. (You are the alarmist.)

The novel is written in two parts – The Vigil and the Post-Mortem.

The opening paragraphs set the tone.

A Hand is gripping yours. Warm, dry hand gripping your slippery, humid hand.

Whoever it is urging you – Breathe!

Leaning over you begging you – Breathe!

As one mourning the death of the love of his life, I found several phrases in the book helpful in understanding what I have gone through and will continue to confront.

Among them is grief-vise, which I have written about in this stream.

In the grip of the grief vise, all that you will do, all that you even imagine doing, will require many times more effort.. Hardly daring to breathe for the grief-vise will tighten around your chest, squeezing the very air out of your lungs.

In the early stages of grief, the vise was strangling me. Breathing was impossible, and weeping was constant at times.

Michaela struggles with her grief. Seeing her husband every time she sees a man alone, even if they are older or younger than he was. I know I have felt Jan’s presence and still expect her to walk into our apartment.

Her struggles with a grief counselor and overly helpful friends are an experience I have not had but are familiar to those suffering from losing a loved one.

The last chapters are ones in which time becomes confusing and chaotic. At times, I was uncertain about which were real or imagined. The end, like all good novels, was ambiguous.

These are some of the other phrases I have found useful and will include in posts.

• If there is no one to love, do we merit existence?
• Never come to the end of kissing.
• The first principle of life is; Breathe.
• Shy in the language of intimacy.
• As if a life lived with strangers could compensate for the emptiness in your heart.
• No purpose in your life. No compass.

What you love most, that you will lose. The price of your love is your loss.

I recommend this book to all readers, even those struggling with grief.

Subscribe

Contact Us

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