reading rainbow
the poshdeluxe book club: what would you ask yr past selves?
dear book club members:
i have some shocking news for you.
seriously, prepare yrselves. grab a cookie and sit down.
today’s review… IS NOT YOUNG ADULT FICTION.
I KNOW, i know!!!!!! even the library was confused!! it was all, “wait, we only put YA books on hold for sarah… WHAT IS THIS? some kind of MISTAKE?!!”
well, library, i can tell you EXACTLY what this is. THIS is a super magical, brain-tingling, ADULT book:
first of all, i wanna give major pants to meredith, for recommending “ghost in love” at our last meeting. thanks for sharing the book love, lady!
so, it’s kind of hard to explain this book, not cos i’ll get too spoilery (don’t worry, i hate giving too many spoilers in a review) but cos it’s just… well, it’s kind of a weird book. but in the most utterly delightful way! basically, the main character, ben, falls and hits his head in what was supposed to be a fatal accident. BUT he doesn’t die. so, the angel of death sends ben’s ghost, ling (ghosts have chinese names, cos that’s where ghosts were invented), to earth in order to watch over him and basically see what happens. cos apparently this has never happened before, and the “natural order of things” is like totally EFFED UP.
the story centers on ben’s struggle to deal with the increasing weirdness surrounding his life, not to mention the strained relationship with the woman he loves, german (that’s her name, and yes, she is fantastic) and his surprising friendship with the coolest dog ever, pilot.
this is the kind of book where every other page makes yr brain go like this: “?!!!!!!!?… awesome.” jonathan carroll has no qualms about making a TON of random stuff up and then completing shifting the picture the minute you think you’ve figured it out. there were a few times when his whimsicality got a little too ridiculous in my opinion (like, ridiculousness for the sake of ridiculousness, which only works if there are dance parties and champers involved) but even when that happened, he wrapped it up in beautiful language that made it not only palatable but absolutely delicious.
for example:
“Like a spider web that you walk into, it is not so easy to get all the tendrils of real love off after you have passed through it.”
his imagination, paired with a sweet yet masterful grip on the art of description, birthed so many lovely, strange and fantastical concepts that i kept hoping, in the back of my head, that maybe they were real, after all.
* * *
When any current moment is over, it immediately begins to lose all shape and color. Like a fish pulled out of water and left to die on land, its colors pale and it flops helplessly around until its life energy ebbs beyond a certain point and it dies. However, there are some moments that refuse to die. As they weaken, they stumble and lurch through the now, wreaking havoc. Colliding with lives and events, they leave their mark, aroma, their scales, on everything they touch.
Human beings cannot see or sense these rebellious pieces of dying time, but again, animals can. They try to avoid them because they know any moment other than the present is at best a distraction and, at worse, treacherous.
* * *
in particular, one scene from the book keeps waltzing around in my brain. danielle (another main character) goes to a bbq picnic and realizes that everyone there is a past version of herself– like, there’s a six-year-old danielle with food all over her face and a 17-year-old danielle with her nose in a book. there’s even a ten-minutes-ago danielle who encourages “now” danielle to ask her past selves questions:
“Don’t you want to remember who you were? Or what it was like back then? Don’t you want to remember details you forgot? It’s your life: Don’t you think it could help you now?”
spurred on by this advice, “now” danielle proceeds to visit with each version of her self, asking questions like, “what did you dream about last night?” and “how was yr date with dexter?” through this process, she realizes how much she’s forgotten– not just memories, really, but how much of *herself* she has lost with age.
of course, i couldn’t read this scene without wondering what it would be like to have a picnic with all of the past sarahs. first of all, i can tell you right now that there would be NO DESSERT LEFT. seriously, though, it’s made me think a lot about faded moments that i wish were sharp and clear. so, i made a list of questions i’d like to ask at my pinic with the selves:
to my four-year-old self: what did you get for christmas?!!
to my six-year-old self: draw me a picture of yr dreams for the future.
to my seven-year-old self: you just got biscuit, yr new dog! tell me all about her!!!
to my ten-year-old self: what’s it like to sleep over at nana and pawpaw’s house?
to my 13-year-old self: how was the pigbutt banquet at ms. marek’s house?!!
to my 16-year-old self: what were yr favorite moments at the duke young writer’s camp?
to my 18-year-old self: you just asked jeff to the prom and he said YES! how did you get up the nerve?!! what was it like?!
to my 22-year-old self: you just got back from yr graduation dinner at the melting pot with the powersuite girls. what did you talk about?!
to my 22-year-old summer self: last night you went to a party with ellen after the spoon show. TELL ME EVERY DETAIL!!!
to my pushing 26-year-old self: how was paris?
obviously, when a book makes you reflect this much, this deeply, you know it’s worth the read. i give it three and a half pants!!
and now, book club members, i have to inquire: what would YOU ask yr past selves?
LINKS
as we all know, michael jackson’s memorial service took place today, and who better to memorialize him then youtube commenters debating about the existence of his ghost? oh, wait, you know what’s an even BETTER tribute? his face on a tree trunk (no seriously. scroll down).
squee of the day: BABY HEDGEHOG!! GET IN MY HAND!!!
i am experiencing some serious WANT after viewing this slide show from the latest dior couture show. i don’t care what YGM says– these hats are NO mistake.
if you haven’t seen the new documentary on britney spears fans (uh, amazing), here’s a great collection of highlights. my favorite part? the coasters.
the trailer for “big fan” is out and dang, it looks dark. i never thought i could say that about a movie starring patton oswalt but… yowzas.
Discussion
10 comments for “the poshdeluxe book club: what would you ask yr past selves?”
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Um, I think that I watched the Britney clip a wee bit too early in the morning because now I feel very, very strange.
like, not a girl, not yet a woman kind of strange?
SALLY STOP CRYING.
I would like to ask my 9:15 this morning self: “Meredith, why don’t you take the train today instead of driving? That way you maybe won’t bang up Matt’s car and knock off his sideview mirror on one of those huge parking garage columns that have been the bane of your existence for the past two years?”
Glad you loved the book, ladypants! 5 sentences into it, I thought, “This is a definite Sarah recommendation!”
Ooh, Meredith. Lame way to start your day, boo urns to that.
I would ask…
7 year old John: Why don’t you like Brussel Sprouts? They’re awesome!
12 year old John: How do you survive with no football on television and no magic Internet to let you know what’s going on?
16 year old John: how about this Internet thing? Isn’t it awesome??
17 year old John: is Mary Daly really worth getting that upset about?
21 year old John: Why are you studying Chinese? Have you lost your mind?
John, yesterday, sitting in a tube on a river in Texas: Did you ever expect that living in Texas could be THIS utterly fantastic?
Wait – I can only ask myself questions? I prefer the Time Traveler’s Wife kind of game, where I can go back in time and give myself orders instead. Ideally even take young me out and show him stuff that he wasn’t finding on his own – like music that wasn’t on the pop radio station of the time.
Although I guess it would be worth while to ask questions of my younger selves, too. Most of them would be a variation of this:
7 year old Henri: Are you afraid of fish yet? Why? Where did that come from?
And so on down to I-Can-Barely-Talk Henri. Then I could finally understand that irrational part of my brain.
I’d also like to track down the major shift that happened to me between kindergarten and first grade that made me go from being totally unafraid of asking Jill Matalavage to be my girfriend in kindergarten but then left me practically incapable of speaking to Shannon Kidd until she’d been sitting next to me for three months of reading class in the fourth grade.
Basically I’d ask all of my past selves why they’re such pansies.
see? this is a fun game!!!
john, double true on the internet front. like… how did we, um, find stuff?
henri, i had a thought similar to yr fish query about onions, except then i realized that i’ve always hated onions and it’s not because of some experience or mental block, it’s cos ONIONS ARE GROSS.
I have SO many questions for my past selves, but they are mostly therapy-ish. I don’t really remember much of my life before, say, high school. My brother, however, remembers all sorts of details… so a few times I have picked his brain for stories.
To my 4-year old self: what is your family like? how do you feel about it? what is your favorite toy?
To my 6-year old self: what’s it like having mom and dad in two different houses? are there fun parts to having two places to live? what happy things have happened this week?
To my 8-year-old self: what kind of person do you think you want to be when you grow up? tell me about your grandfathers – what are they like? what is special about them? what makes you feel brave?
To my 10-year-old self: what is your favorite thing to do on weekends? if you could choose any one thing, what special thing would you like to do this summer? you got to go to yosemite with your class this spring – tell me all about it!
To my 13-year-old self: you’ve recently switched from being a girl who wasn’t interested in school and didn’t do her homework to someone who works hard to get good grades – what caused the switch? your brother just got kicked out of the house – how to do you feel about that?
To my 17-year-old self: what do you value most about the friendships you have right now? what do you hope to learn in college? what’s something you’re looking forward to after graduation?
To my 18-year old self, one month after starting college: what is your roommate like? what kind of person do you think she’ll be at 30? what kind of person do you think you’ll be at 30? what do you think of that guy from alaska?
To my 22-year-old self, near graduation: you’re about to graduate! what have you cherished most about your last four years? tell me about your roommates. where do you think they will be at 30?
btw, i just had a quesadilla with sauteed onions for lunch, and it was delicious.
I agree with Julie Tabouli — I have lots of questions for my past selves.
To my 4-year-old self: you just left your hometown and Texas is so different. What do you miss about Colorado? What are the best parts of your new home in Sugar Land?
To my 7-year-old self: having a little brother is tough sometimes, huh? What are your favorite things to do with him? What makes him really a special guy?
To my 10-year-old self: what do you want your life to be like in another decade? Two decades?
To my 12-year-old self: You are taller and skinnier than everyone else you know. What is your favorite thing about how you look? Your least favorite thing?
To my 15-year-old self: You just got injured doing something you love so much. How do you feel not being able to dance like before?
To my 17-year-old self: What do you imagine college will be like? What have been your happiest childhood memories? What have been the toughest parts of growing up?
To my 22-year-old self: Do you have any regrets yet? What do you hope for most?
To my 24-year-old self: You’re moving to Paris?!?! How on earth did you get the courage to do that? Are you afraid?
To my 27-year-old self: You’re leaving Paris?!?! How on earth did you get the courage to do that? Are you out of your mind?
To my 28-year-old self: Is this how you imagined love would feel?
Henri, I was also a pansy for a very long time. But I couldn’t go back and ask past John why, because it would just spur more introspection, “deep” thinking, and bad poetry.
Henri, the fish phobia is NOT weird. It is perfectly normal. They . . . wiggle! Past your legs! AND TOUCH YOU. There’s a reason why I have to have a six-pack in me before I venture into anything unchlorinated.
I always wish I were the type of kid who wrote to Future Me – you know, where you sit and compose letters to your future self so that when you get older you can read them and laugh at yr bad handwriting and then feel bad about not accomplishing your goals? Actually, never mind, I’m glad I never wrote to my Future Self.
But past self? Let’s see . . .
To 4-year-old Erin: Are you planning to take that Michael Jackson tshirt off anytime soon? No? Okay, carry on, then.
To 6-year-old Erin: How does it feel being forced to write with your right hand by your sadistic teacher? Can you use your left hand to at least subtly flip her the bird?
To 8-year-old Erin: How’s that new baby brother treating you? Have you decided whether to have a contentious relationship marked by jealousy for the next 21 years of your life, or have you decided to accept that you both have things you’re good at, and his talents don’t negate yours? Can I recommend the latter approach?
To my 11-year-old self: WHAT is with your hair? Also, please cease and desist the leggings and giant hypercolor shirts IMMEDIATELY.
To my 15-year-old self: Tell me honestly – would you rather continue to be aggressively weird and alone or admit that even though you like new wave and sci fi, you also like The Cardigans and rom-coms? Do you think defining yourself as anti-establishment is helping you, or hurting you?
To my 17-year-old-self: Congratulations! You’re experiencing your first awkward attempts at young love. Do you think you’re handling yourself, the relationship, and the boy’s feelings well, or have you bungled it? If you have bungled it, don’t you think it’d be better to apologize for your carelessness and work on that some so that you don’t repeat the same mistakes for the next 12 freaking years?
To my 18-through-20-year-old self: Stop. Stop it right now. Whatever it is you’re doing, stop it. Nothing good will come of any of it.
To my 23-year-old self: Do you think it’s a good idea to close yourself off from the world, or is it just the only option you can see? Why don’t you try to let someone help you?
To my self, ages 25-28: What was his name?
To my self of two weeks ago: Why is it you only let yourself feel and think and do and say things honestly when you’re away from your day-to-day life? Maybe you should try doing it every day; it may just work out for you.
And NOW I’m off to read that book, Sarah!
Oh, recommendation time? The Book Thief. I read it while on the plane home and sobbed like a little baby for about half an hour afterwards. Highly recommended if you like any of these things: nazis, Jews, commies, Death, heart-wrenching sadness, artistic prose, Jesse Owens.