The power of family secrets.

    I've personally witnessed dysfunctional families make significant strides toward more healthy functioning with the exposure of a family secret. The late Edwin Friedman wrote a book Generation to Generation: Family Process in Church and Synagogue. In his book he applies the theories of  family systems to congregational life. This is some of what he has to say about family secrets.

"Family secrets act as the plaque in the arteries of communication; they cause stoppage in the general flow and not just at the point of their existence."  Then he lists a number of examples; "an affair, illegitimacy, elopement, terminal illness, abortion, adoption..." etc. "...where one family member says 'But don't tell Dad/Mom."' He goes on to identify four effects of such secrets. "Secrets function to divide a family, as avalanche would a community....second...is that they create unnecessary estrangements as well as false companionship...third...they distort perceptions....fourth...The most important effect of secrets on a family's emotional system is that they exacerbate other pathological processes unrelated to the content of the secret, because secrets generally function to keep anxiety at higher energy levels." PP 52-53

    This is a longer preamble than usual to my book report but it's germane to what follows. Black Cake, Charmaine Wilkerson, is a book for persons who think that Black lives matter and for other persons who need to understand Black experience. The racial realities of the book, though significant, are secondary to the main theme. The theme of the book is THE POWER OF FAMILY SECRETS, and the family secret in this book is world class!

    All of the aforementioned effects of family secrets, ala Friedman, are amply, profoundly and explicitly illustrated in this marvelous book. The settings of the Caribbean Isles, England and California are expertly woven into the story. She uses fascinating changes of times and voices to keep the reader engaged. The characters are developed with the nuance that creates empathy and interest...very readable and engaging!

    Thanks, MJV, for this newly published book...2022. It'll be interesting to see if it appears on best seller lists. It's the author's first book. Yes, highly recommended and one I could imagine rereading in a year or two.  

Takk for alt,

Al

        Today's random photo is of the setting sun in Thailand.

Engrossed!

    The book I'm reading had me so engrossed I almost forgot to write a blog for my two readers. 😏 Knowing that you'd both be disappointed were I not to blog, here goes. There's about 70 pages left in the book so I'll not comment on that until I've read it all. Stay tuned because it's a good book. Next up will be Louise Erdrich's latest, which I gave as a Christmas gift, but the receiver has now loaned me.

   I'm keen to bring Kaia here. She's in long term care while I see the effects of radiation. The kennel, from which I bought her, has been keeping her, doggy camp. The paperwork for keeping her here is completed so I can bring her at will. 

   Speaking of radiation effects; they are still minimal.  That's one more reality for which to be grateful. Having completed 29 or 38, I'm well past half.  The daily trips structures my week and it's a simple routine. 

   That's my story and I'm sticking with it.

Takk for alt,

Al

Today's random picture is of the Mother's of  the Disappeared at their daily demonstration in Buenos Aires, Argentina.  See the Pink House in the background, think Evita`.

Still Searching.

       When we occupied the  Minneapolis downtown condo in 2010, the previous owner left a large desk behind, to which I'd agreed. It was really too large for the condo and certainly too large for the Old Folk's Home. Consequently I'm without a desk and temporarily using a folding table. My "office" is a corner of the large bedroom which contains an oak secretary, oak book case, oak dresser, oak night stand and oak file cabinet. Do you perceive a theme with these furnishings?

      An oak desk would fit very nicely. But my search for an oak desk has been a clear illustration of how old fashioned I am! Oak is not in vogue! Some nice oak roll top desks have surfaced and, judging by the low prices for them, they must really be passé. So the search goes on.

Takk for alt.

Al

                     Joanne would love the OFH and by this would have 100 new, close, personal friends.

97/36/21/55

        Lexington Landings, that I affectionally call The Old Folk's Home(OFH), has 97 independent living apartments. I occupy one of them. The OFH also has 36 assisted living units. In addition, there are also 21 memory care apartments. A person can transition from independent to assisted and on to memory care without leaving the building. Total them up and there are 154 total units.

     There are 55 reserved parking places in the underground garage. These were assigned on a 'first come' basis. Being almost 'last come' I've been on the waiting list since I registered in November. Upon registration I was number 8 in line for a parking spot. Assuming that persons in memory care don't have a vehicle...though a spouse might...likely it is the independents and assisteds that precede me in line. Recently I was informed that I'm next in line.

    Certainly looking forward to parking inside, the news also triggers a bit of ambivalence. This being a new building few persons move away. Securing a parking spot is going to come when someone either loses driving privileges or dies, neither of which I wish on any one. So, I wait patiently.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS: 29 of 38! 😃

Recommended Reading.

     Other than daily trips to Methodist Hospital seeking the ability to glow in the dark, what else do I have to do, except read?  By now, both of you recognize that mostly I read books that MJV sends me and this latest is no exception.  It's a story, or I should say, stories that should be told.

   The author, Dirk Van Leenen was born in Nazi occupied Netherlands in 1940. Resistance On A Bicycle is filled with vignettes of the courageous and dangerous resistance to the occupiers. Even Cornelius, beginning when he was three, played a significant role in hiding and feeding Jews, and working to defeat the invader.   Cornelius father is the lead character of the book, but young Cornelius was able to help him in many ways. Often, when father was stopped at a Nazi check point, and was being hassled by soldiers, on a signal from father, Cornelius would cry so loudly and long they'd be sent on their way. Cornelius also established a backyard garden to help feed his family and the Jews they were hiding. 

    It's not easy to read of the brutality and violence, but the main theme is the success of the resistance in protecting many and getting them to freedom. Apparently the book is self published so likely the author  did not have the assistance of significant editorial help. In spite of that, the episodes are compelling and a worthy record of life under occupation. I recommend it.  MJV also sent me the sequel, The Americans Are Coming. 

Takk for alt,

Al

                    A comic about life in the Old Folk's Home. 😁

Recommended Reading!

       After MJV gave me Patchett's These Precious Days, which I've now passed on to Lisa, I found The Dutch House in the OFH library. It turned out to be a delightful read. Patchett fans who have read both books may agree with me that the father in House may have similarities to one of her fathers written about in the essay My Three Fathers in Days. This is a book for persons interested in relationships and an interesting study in family systems.

     The book jacket says this about the book. "The Dutch House is the story of  paradise lost, a tour de force that digs deeply into questions of inheritance, love, forgiveness,  how we want to see ourselves, and who we really are. It is filled with suspense, and though you may read it quickly to find out what happens, Danny and Maeve will stay with you for a very long time."  I couldn't say it better thus this quote. Published in 2019 likely one or both of you have already read it.

Takk for alt,

Al

                               Yesterday's view from the OFH, couldn't see to the river.

Snow Day! 2-22-22

      In my last visit with the  doctor, who supervises my radiation, he said missing an appointment isn't serious, it's just made up at the end. With that information I declared today a "snow day" and called the clinic and said that I wasn't coming because its been snowing all day. Why drive across town in the snow?

     Snow day reminds me of my childhood when blizzards would blow for two or more days. Our farm yard was surrounded on the south, west and north but a dense grove of trees. So our house, yard and barn were well protected. A lasting memory is the wind howling in those trees. Of course school was called off until the storm subsided. Yippee!

    In a recent conversation with Frode we were talking about the winter of 1948-49, which was exceptionally snowy. So much snow that the winter that the National Guard opened the roads with their bulldozers. On our way to school, walking of course, we could step over the telephone lines on the snow drifts.

   That winter Frode, a WW II, bomber pilot in Asia, was back at his home in Westhope, N.D., about ten miles from the border of Manitoba. He was giving flying lessons at Westhope's Airport. With the snow shutting things down, and his airplane equipped with skis, he was called into service with his plane. He delivered cream from farms to the creamery, carried baled hay to cattle in the field, and the mailman rode with him and dropped mail to isolated farms.

   There was an electric outage in the countryside. The electric lineman approached Frode about helping restore power. They tied an electricity pole to the skis and took off. Flying low along the electric line they came to a broken pole. With the plane landed nearby the lineman climbed the broken pole. Soon there was a flash of sparks by the man. He went limp for a little while, came too, climbed off the pole and into the plane. At the doctor's office it was discovered that his toes were burned where the electricity had exited his body.

    For 30 (?) years Frode and I played golf together but these were stories I'd never heard. He had talked a lot about his wartime flying experiences in Asia, where he flew a Douglas A-20.

Takk for alt,

Al

This Douglas A-20 is in the Air Force Museum, Dayton, OH.

Learning Curve!

       Why is it called an 'air fryer?' It's closer to a convection oven than any fryer I've seen. The pork chop turned out well last night in spite of some struggles with the control panel. The panel was not intuitive for me. For once in my life I read the instructions first! 😁 In spite of that I hadn't mastered the controls. After the cooking, I reread the guide; "Oh, that's what I did wrong!" The sequence of buttons seems odd to me but they can be easily learned...Yes, old guys can learn new tricks!  Instructions for seasoning the chop were as close as the internet. Where was the internet when I was in school? It's actually fun to learn something new. Now should I buy a George Forman grill? It's good that the kitchen in the OFH has much counter space; an L shaped counter plus a center island.

     That's the story of the day but I've been neglecting to post random pictures, sorry Bonnie. So...here goes!

Takk for alt,

Al

                               A wine truck in Porto, Portugal.

When the doorbell rings...

     There actually is a doorbell, of sorts, at the OFH. A visitor can call me from the entry and using my landline I can unlock the door from my apartment. Closed circuit TV from the entrance even allows me to view the visitor via my TV. 

     For some thirty years I played golf regularly with Frode. He was the most consistent golfer of our foursome, and though 17 years older than I, regularly outplayed me. Now at age 98 he likes to talk to me becasue he has so few peers alive.  He was always buying or building new clubs to improve his game. His wife once said "Every time I hear the doorbell I know it will be the delivery of a new golf club."

    This statement came to mind today after the front desk attendant at the OFH called to say a package had arrived for me. "A package for me?" Knowing I hadn't ordered anything  "A package for me?.. it must be a book from MJV."  Yes! Black Cake.  Likely it will be up next when I finish the two I'm currently reading. Thanks MJV!

    At the suggestion of  my niece and her husband, who were my guests a couple of weeks ago, I bought an air fryer. Three evenings a week the dining room is closed to those of us in the OFH' independent living apartments. It's closed due lack of staff.  Tonight, Sunday being one of the nights that the dining room is off limits, I'll initiate the fryer with a pork chop. Stay tuned.

Takk for alt,

Al 

This picture is from our dinner last night at the OFH. I'm flanked by my nieces, sisters, and their families.

Perks

    There are perks to living in the Old Folk's Home (OFH).  Cleaning services are offered for a fee of $35.00 per hour. My apartment is small enough to do in an hour. Anita cleaned it once and left it sparkling. A continental breakfast is offered every morning at no cost. Then there is entertaining.

    Tonight six nieces and nephews will be my guests at dinner. The OFH kitchen was notified of the number of guests to insure adequate food and staffing. What an easy way to entertain, I don't have to cook, set the table or do dishes. 😁  Yes, I've been known to remark that life here could be a lot worse.

Takk for alt,

Al

                 I'm sure you all noticed that Opal is driving a Studebaker, about a 1950 model.

Back again!

       That was quick! The computer was delivered to the techy at 11:30 yesterday and fixed and returned at 11:30 today. Some malfunction of the clock???????  Well what do I know?

    Next not being able to blog, the hard part of loss of the computer is not being able to read the morning paper, which I do each day online. Ah, how dependencies develop! Computers were not a large part of the one room school experience.  Electricity was considered a luxury and it featured a path instead of a bath. 

   Five weeks of radiation complete still with minimal side effects. Thinking I'm one of the lucky ones with only 13 more to go! 😃 Sooooooooo much for which to be grateful and that includes the OLH, which could be a lot worse.

Takk for alt,

Al

Computer crashed

 Posting will resume when my computer returns. My apologies to you both.

Takk for alt,

Al

Small Convenience

      Now that I'm reading more the end of the books I brought from S.D. is in sight. Having recently read Ann Patchett's These Precious Days, I though her The Dutch House would be a good choice. Knowing that Lisa had read I texted her to inquire if she had it. Indeed she'd read it but had borrowed from the library.

    Next I turned to the Hennepin County Library to see if I could get it via Kindle. There was a long waiting list and I wanted it sooner. Remembering that the OFH has nice library I went there looking. Not only was there a copy on the shelf, there were two! Carrying one back to my apartment I found it engaging and read about fifty pages. The library, a small perk of life in The Old Folk's Home!

Takk for alt,

Al

Lincoln

     With President Lincoln's birthday there's been writing about him. Heather Cox-Richardson, the historian who writes a daily blog mentioned a meditation by Lincoln. The Daily Reformer printed the letter.

 

4. Lincoln

Abraham Lincoln’s birthday was over the weekend, and historian Heather Cox Richardson cites this meditation Lincoln apparently wrote on a fragment of paper in the 1850s. He’s talking about the logic of slavery, but it’s a good exercise in political theory. 

“If A. can prove, however conclusively, that he may, of right, enslave B.—why may not B. snatch the same argument, and prove equally, that he may enslave A?” Lincoln wrote. “You say A. is white, and B. is black. It is color, then; the lighter, having the right to enslave the darker? Take care. By this rule, you are to be slave to the first man you meet, with a fairer skin than your own. You do not mean color exactly?—You mean the whites are intellectually the superiors of the blacks, and, therefore have the right to enslave them? Take care again. By this rule, you are to be slave to the first man you meet, with an intellect superior to your own. But, say you, it is a question of interest; and, if you can make it your interest, you have the right to enslave another. Very well. And if he can make it his interest, he has the right to enslave you.”

Takk for alt,

Al

                             Earl's my man!

Happy Valentine's Day to you both!

        Valentine's Day is huge in Thailand. Thai love to celebrate and I think that's generally true in SE Asia. Tastes also run to the sentimental, much of which we might dismiss as kitsch. Taiwan Airlines has an airplane painted with "Hello Kitty" complete with pictures. The Taipei Airport has themed lounges along the concourse and one of those is also "Hello Kitty" decorated. Christmas is big in Buddhist Thailand, again because of the opportunity to celebrate, Good Friday not so much. Even back in 1961 when I was in Tokyo at Christmas time, there were Santa Clauses on the street. When I was teaching in Thailand on Valentine's Day the students would see how many heart stickers they could attach to me. Likewise, they like to make a fuss over birthdays. 

    All this reminds me that I should be in Thailand now instead of cranking up a cold car on subzero mornings. 

Takk for alt,

Al

         This picture from my school farewell in 2016 shows the Christmas bulletin board.

Who, me?

 

   

    One of the potential side effects of my current course of radiation is fatigue. With my current sedentary lifestyle it causes me to wonder "Would I be able to recognize fatigue if it hit me?"  I've been accustomed to an active lifestyle. Since I've moved into the OFH my style is anything but active. Discounting the mile I walk in the mornings and few trips up and down the stairs my new handy dandy recliner is well occupied. Were I the possessor of a Fitbit it would probably resign in disgust. 

   In my weekly visits with the doctor, who oversees my therapy, he assures me that fatigue is coming. While I believe him the question remains if I'll recognize its arrival. Understand, I'm not complaining about the lack of side effects. Rather, I'm grateful for my good fortune as well as the treatment.  

Takk for alt,

Al

Recommended Reading

       Bill Bryson's A Short History of  Almost Everything, (see book jacket below) was published in 2002, yet, I still found it worth reading. Using his three years of in depth research he's presented a wealth of scientific information in a manner understandable to the non-scientist. It's a big book full of interesting scientific information and history of that science. Once when another person learned of my reading I was asked "How do you remember it all?" I replied "I don't but I'm not going to be tested on it." That's particularly helpful in regards to this book...very glad that there will be no test.

Takk for alt,

Al

Imagine the grief!

      A friend of mine has had a terrible run of grief. In November her sister-in-law died suddenly. Twelve days later her twin brother also died suddenly, spouse of the aforementioned sister in law. Days ago another brother died. Joanne often said "grief touches grief" which is true.  In this extreme case that's too mild a statement. Imagine the load of grief for this poor family plunged so cruelly into the land of grief.

   When I reached out to this friend as a part of her response she shared this poem which speaks for itself.

‘Tis A Fearful Thing

 

              “Tis a fearful thing

                to love what death can touch.

                A fearful thing

                to love, to hope, to dream, to be—

                to be,

                and oh, to lose.

                A thing for fools, this,

                and a holy thing,

                a holy thing

                to love.

                For your life has lived in me,

                your laugh once lifted me,

                your word was gift to me.

                To remember this brings painful joy.

                ‘Tis a human thing, love,

                a holy thing, to love

                what death has touched.”

                                 Judah Halevi

Takk for alt,

Al

Nineteen/thirty-eighths!

      Scheduling eight weeks (38 days as it turned out) of daily therapy seemed a bit awesome when I did it. Reflecting on it the thought occurred that 'time passes very quickly and, once in the routine, it will not be so difficult.' That has been my experience as I reached the halfway mark today. Of course I'm very fortunate that I don't have to balance the treatments with work or other responsibilities. What else do I have to do? 😁 Sleep, eat and read...how hard is that?

    Good fortune shines on me as I continue to experience only very mild side effects. So I remain grateful for medical care and good insurance. 

Takk for alt,

Al

PS And, oh yes, life in the OFH could be a lot worse!

Poetry

    It's been awhile since a poetry posting in this blog. Not much scintillating happening in my life to report these days. Five days a week to Methodist hospital to see cheery technicians who treat me and send me on my.  May this poetry inspire.

Philip Booth

Hope

Old spirit, in and beyond me,
keep and extend me. Amid strangers
friends, great trees and big seas breaking,
let love move me. Let me hear the whole music,
see clear, reach deep. Open me to find due words,
that I may shape them to ploughshares of my own making.
After such luck, however late, give me to give to
the oldest dance… Then to good sleep,
and - if it happens - glad waking.

Takk for alt,

Al

Waiting!

    There are fewer garage parking places than residents who want them here in the OFH. Signing up to move in, back in November, I was number eight on the wait list. Some days ago when I enquired about my place on the list I'd moved to number three. Sports fans neve chant "We're number three!" Apparently bronze at the Olympics is sometimes valued above silver. "I got a medal" vs "I just missed gold." I'm bronze on the waitlist. 

   Going out to my car to drive to my appointment on these sub-zero mornings reminds me why I should be in tropical Thailand. Other memories come to mind. The cars of my youth were questionable starters when it was very cold. Sometimes we'd cover the engine with a blanket while the engine was hot hoping to retain some heat until morning. Did it work? who knows. Today it's pretty much a given that cars start unless some maintenance has been neglected. Quickly that's taken for granted.

    Pining for a spot in garage does cause me some ambivalence. The Landings is very new building so few persons move out. My accession to an indoor spot most likely will come because either someone lost his/her driving privileges or died. Neither of those options are something I wish on another. Therefore, I will wait patiently.

Takk for alt,

Al 

Punching a clock.

     Every fifteen minutes a new victim, i.e., patient, enters the room for a shot of radiation. An advantage of scheduling radiation in advance was the opportunity to choose my time, and securing it for every day of my 38 days. 11:00 a.m. was my choice, no need to rush in the morning with plenty of time to read the paper. Traffic is light at that time and I'm done well before lunch. Having the same time scheduled everyday makes the morning preparation routine easy.  Minimal side effects yet, is also a gift. 

    Good health insurance is also a gift. The insurance printout revealed that $2000.00 was charged for my hormone shot. The paper work for the radiation has yet to come. Good medical care and good insurance...yes, I'm VERY grateful/

Takk for alt,

Al

Entertained

      Tonight a was a guest for dinner and the host sent me home with a dozen fresh eggs! 😀 I'll write more tomorrow.

Takk for alt,

Al

                                  No comment!

Another Baltic cruise memory.

      With Russian troops massed on the boarder of Ukraine, NATO has much been in the news. Yesterday's post about our ambulance ride in St. Petersburg brought to mind another memory of that Baltic cruise referenced in that post. Three of the small Baltic countries we visited were Lithuania, Estonia and Latvia. With all the talk of NATO it reminded me of an incident in Latvia.

    At each port of call there was opportunity to take guided trips ashore. These gave excellent introductions to the cities we visited. The Latvian tour guide, a woman I'd guess to be about forty, led us explaining what were seeing in excellent English. Mindful of the Soviet Union's long occupation of Latvia after WW II, and Russia's proximity, prompted me to ask a question of our guide. "Do you, as a Latvian, worry about Russia?"  She replied, without hesitation, "No, becasue Latvia is a member of NATO."

   That response often came to mind when the previous occupant denigrated NATO, and cozied up to Russia. It's interesting that, given Russia's current behavior, both Sweden and Finland are giving thought to joining NATO, as are Norway and Denmark. All three of the aforementioned Baltic countries are in NATO.

Takk for alt,

Al

          This the guide in Riga, Latvia, about whom I write.

A random story.

      Joanne and I took one cruise, unless the Hurtigruten trip on costal Norway counts as a cruise, and it was on the Baltic. Leaving the hospital today after my radiation therapy brought that cruise to mind. Methodist Hospital in St. Louis Park is far from the Baltic, but it wasn't the hospital that reminded me, it was the ambulance I was following from the hospital grounds that reminded me of St. Petersburg, Russia and my one ambulance ride.

   After lunch aboard our cruise ship, Joanne I were returning to our stateroom. Exiting the dining room Joanne tripped on a threshold, fell forward and broke her right wrist and left thumb. A physical therapist told us that fall is called a "swoosh." The shipboard doctor  sent us, via taxi, to a St. Petersburg hospital. By the time Joanne had been treated...that's fodder for another random story...it was traffic rush hour. After a brief confab the persons responsible for returning us to the ship decided that, given the traffic situation,  the only efficient means of transport was via ambulance.

    We were ushered into the back of an ambulance. With lights flashing and siren blaring we flew down the streets of St. Petersburg. The driver never stopped for a red light, when traffic was stopped drove down the wrong side of the street and delivered us back to the ship. The ride was as good as the best at any amusement park. 

   That's today's random story.

Takk for alt,

Al

This picture, taken in Helsinki, shows the cast on Joanne's right arm.

More Reading...

    Well,,,,,,,,,,,that was interesting! In the Norwegian American community "that was interesting" is a common euphemism used to comment on something questionable. Like in "How did you like the brussels sprouts ice cream?" The reply "that was interesting." The "that was interesting" opening this paragraph is not in that sense. The book was truly interesting.

    Reading  about metastatic prostate cancer whill being treated for non-metastatic prostate cancer adds a dimension of interest. Unfortunately, Anatole Broyard died of the cancer about which he writes in INTOOXICATED BY MY ILLNESS: And Other Writings on Life and Death. Broyard was a writer, at one time editor of The New York Times Book Review, so, when he was diagnosed with cancer, it was natural for him to write about it. This is not a new book, Broyard died in 1990 and the book was published in 1992.

    Wrestling with his illness Broyard reviews much of what has ben written about sickness. He does not go 'easy into the night.'  One chapter is entitled The Patient Examines the Doctor. His illness is his own which he feels entitles him to evaluate the doctor subjectively.

    The second half of the book is a reprint, THE LITERATURE OF DEATH: 1981-1982. This struck me as the more interesting part of the book. It's largely a report of his fathers death in 1948 from cancer. When his father was diagnosed with terminal cancer the hospital expelled him becasue they didn't treat those they couldn't cure! He was relegated to a general hospital and a multi-bed ward. 

    Today the situation is so very different both in the treatment of the terminally ill and in literature. Much has been written about death and dying since 1982. One of my two readers is a sometime lecturer on the subject of death and dying. To him, I recommend adding this to his library.  To those wrestling with acute illness and those speaking about death and dying, I recommend it, for the rest, read Ann Patchett. 

Takk for alt,

Al

    

Quilt...

      Joanne did many things during her career. Among her duties she was the founding President/CEO of Lutheran Services of America (LSA). LSA is a consortium of all the health care and social service agencies affiliated with The Lutheran Church Missouri Synod and the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America. 

    When Joanne left her position with LSA, among the gifts with which she was presented was a quilt. This quilt, king sized, was made of squares from the agencies that were a part of LSA. She used the quilt to dress our king sized bed when we entertained company. Other than those times this beautiful quilt reposed on a quilt rack in our bedroom.

   Preparing to move to the OFH the bed was given away but the quilt remained in need of a good home. LSS of Minnesota, one of the members of LSA, seemed to me a possible recipient of the quilt. When I placed a call to Pastor Kathryn Tiede, Associate Vice President of Philanthropy, LSS Minnesota, she enthusiastically responded that "LSS would love to have it."

   Today Kathryn joined me for lunch at the OFH. After lunch I presented the quilt to her. The quilt is prepared for hanging with places for a hanging bar at both top and bottom. When the quilt is hung it will be accompanied by a plaque explaining its history. I'm pleased that it has found such a good home.

Takk for alt,

Al

        The quilt is displayed on my queen size bed in the OFH.

Recommended Reading.

      When I finished reading Norwegian by Night, Derek B. Miller, MJV, giver of a multitude of books, said, the sequel ,American by Day, was even better. So, of course she sent it to me, and, of course she was correct. Sigrid Odegard, a Norwegian police officer, is an important charcter in the first book but the primary one in the second. She travels from Norway to America to search for her lost brother, and thereby hangs a tale.

     Miller's books are fun, filled with fascinating reflections, in the form of a thriller. Some literary critics, of which I am not one, may be put off by the long soliloquies, but they are so full of insight that I liked them. Some of the scenes stretch credulity but that contributes to the humor. In American, the missing brother has an African American girlfriend.  That relationship and race relations are central to the book. In a defining moment in their relationship reflecting on the difference between Black and White experience she says, "Your skin is a shield...My skin is a target." P. 244. 

    Reflecting on American consumerism Odegard thinks, "How can the winners prove that they've won if they can't have more than the losers?" P. 312.  One of the author's gifts is full bodied and fascinating characters, e.g., Odegard, or the American sheriff who is Jesuit educated. The danger of bad theology is clearly illustrated in the central conundrum.  

    It's a very readable book with much food for thought so I recommend it.

Takk for alt,

Al