•3:34 PM
I was really looking forward to reading Practical Magic by Alice Hoffman. After first being published in the seventies, she has gone on to write several books, which I can only assume means that the woman can tell a good story. Practical Magic is listed on several "must read" lists and it was made into a movie in 1998 starring Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman. Hoffman often writes about magic and peculiar relationships, both of which I enjoy reading about.
But, I have to be honest ... I'm not so sure what all the excitement is about. For me, it was like a storybook for adults; similar to something I would read to my girls at bedtime, except this is aimed at an adult audience. It did not provoke any deep soul searching or questioning of ideals. I did not fall in love with the characters; I did not really relate to them in any meaningful way, I guess. For me, this book was just okay ...
What I did find interesting is that it is written in an unusual style ... there are no chapters. It is broken into four sections, but no chapters. There are two schools of thought on this. Some say that without chapters, it encourages the reader to continue reading since there are no natural breaks. However, there are those who enjoy the frequent break that a chapter provides. Hoffman does an amazing job of transitioning from one part of the story to another. If I had to diagram it, it would look like the wavy lines on a lie detector test; dipping in the transitions and peaking at the really interesting parts. I don't think I have ever read a novel that did not have chapters, and because I have to read in short spurts, I missed them.
The story revolves around the Owens women. The name Owen means born of yew, which is a tree that symbolizes sorrow, death, and resurrection - all of which are pivotal themes to the story. The relationship between these women, particularly sisters Sally and Gillian, is central to the story. They have a special understanding of each other ... "No one knows you like a person with whom you've shared a childhood. No one will ever understand you in quite the same way."
I wouldn't have expected it in this book, but I have (expertly) diagnosed one of the Owens sisters as a fellow momoholic. She says its brilliantly ... "She sounds a little hysterical. For the past sixteen years ... she has been thinking about her children. Occasionally she has thought about snowstorms and the cost of heat and electricity and the fact that she often gets hives when September closes in and she knows she has to go back to work. But mostly she's been preoccupied with Antonia and Kylie, with fevers and cramps, with new shoes to buy every six months and making sure everyone gets well-balanced meals and at least eight hours of sleep every night. Without such thoughts, she's not certain she will continue to exist. Without them, what exactly is she left with?" Sounds like a momoholic to me ... wouldn't you agree? Which leads me to believe that momohlics, like all addicts, come from various walks of life ... even witches.
Time is an essential part of the story. Not the passing of time, but the time of day. Anything pivotal to the plot takes place at night, in the dark. Transitional segments of the story most often take place during the daylight hours. But most important is twilight, the time of soft diffused light when the sun is below the horizon, most commonly from sunset to nightfall. "At twilight they will always think of those women who would do anything for love. And in spite of everything, they will discover that this, above all others, is their favorite time of day. It's the hour when they remember everything the aunts taught them. It's the hour they're most grateful for."
I never get to enjoy twilight ... my house is full of noisy kids, usually a television talking, dishes clinking. But I imagine that when it is quiet once again and I get a chance to enjoy the magic of twilight, those moments will be spent thinking of those noisy kids and otherwise uneventful days of parenting. As for twilight tonight, I'll probably standing stirring something on the stove while reading the first chapter of my next book ...
But, I have to be honest ... I'm not so sure what all the excitement is about. For me, it was like a storybook for adults; similar to something I would read to my girls at bedtime, except this is aimed at an adult audience. It did not provoke any deep soul searching or questioning of ideals. I did not fall in love with the characters; I did not really relate to them in any meaningful way, I guess. For me, this book was just okay ...
The story revolves around the Owens women. The name Owen means born of yew, which is a tree that symbolizes sorrow, death, and resurrection - all of which are pivotal themes to the story. The relationship between these women, particularly sisters Sally and Gillian, is central to the story. They have a special understanding of each other ... "No one knows you like a person with whom you've shared a childhood. No one will ever understand you in quite the same way."
I wouldn't have expected it in this book, but I have (expertly) diagnosed one of the Owens sisters as a fellow momoholic. She says its brilliantly ... "She sounds a little hysterical. For the past sixteen years ... she has been thinking about her children. Occasionally she has thought about snowstorms and the cost of heat and electricity and the fact that she often gets hives when September closes in and she knows she has to go back to work. But mostly she's been preoccupied with Antonia and Kylie, with fevers and cramps, with new shoes to buy every six months and making sure everyone gets well-balanced meals and at least eight hours of sleep every night. Without such thoughts, she's not certain she will continue to exist. Without them, what exactly is she left with?" Sounds like a momoholic to me ... wouldn't you agree? Which leads me to believe that momohlics, like all addicts, come from various walks of life ... even witches.
Time is an essential part of the story. Not the passing of time, but the time of day. Anything pivotal to the plot takes place at night, in the dark. Transitional segments of the story most often take place during the daylight hours. But most important is twilight, the time of soft diffused light when the sun is below the horizon, most commonly from sunset to nightfall. "At twilight they will always think of those women who would do anything for love. And in spite of everything, they will discover that this, above all others, is their favorite time of day. It's the hour when they remember everything the aunts taught them. It's the hour they're most grateful for."
I never get to enjoy twilight ... my house is full of noisy kids, usually a television talking, dishes clinking. But I imagine that when it is quiet once again and I get a chance to enjoy the magic of twilight, those moments will be spent thinking of those noisy kids and otherwise uneventful days of parenting. As for twilight tonight, I'll probably standing stirring something on the stove while reading the first chapter of my next book ...
1 comments:
Sounds like a good one to have behind you ---- hope the next selection is more intriguing for you.