The Corrections — a dysfunctional family as seen through a Diane Arbus-type lens

Reading,

The Corrections The Corrections has been sitting on our shelf for years. Two people in my family read it and told me I would not like it so I expected it to sit there, unread by me, for many more years.

Then Erika chose to have us read The Corrections for our December/January book. I was not entirely pleased because I assumed, based on what family members told me, I’d not like it. It seemed like a long dull book about a family that I didn’t want to know anything about, despite the fact that the author may be a distant relative of Dean and, therefore, the kids.

I finished The Corrections on Saturday morning and rated it 3 stars on Goodreads from my Kindle (yes, I bought the book on Kindle — and Audible — because I could not find the book and we were in the middle of a basement remodel and I didn’t want to sift through the dozens of boxes of books). Soon after that I changed the rating to 4 and wrote a short review on Goodreads and responded to an online friend about her 1 star rating.

Last night I thought more about the book and discovered that I might like it enough to rate it 5 stars. The book was compelling enough to make me want to read it whenever I picked it up. The characters were very well fleshed out, although they all had many flaws. The story, though very depressing and disturbing, was well thought out and the book, was very well written.

To me, the most disturbing thing about the book is the fact that the family could, possibly, be any family. My family, my husband’s family, your family. Franzen, for the most part, focused on the negative traits of each character and accentuated their really bad decisions. While I didn’t want to identify with any of the characters, I did find myself giving most of my sympathy to Enid and Gary.

The Corrections made me think of the photographer Diane Arbus’ work. I remember looking looking at the photographs in her An Aperture Monograph collection and thinking that she could have photographed many of us in the same settings, with the same lens with the same film settings and we would have looked not much different from the people in the collection. That’s how I felt about how Franzen portrayed his characters and I wondered how Anne Tyler might have approached the Lambert clan — definitely more upbeat and more quirky than disturbing.

I’ve seen reviews calling the novel “Word vomit” and others complaining that they didn’t like the book because they could not sympathize with any of the characters. I disagree with both criticisms. I did sympathize with the characters, except perhaps with Caroline, Gary’s wife — but she was the least fleshed-out character in the book.

I am not a therapist or a psychologist, so I cannot speak to the depression that many of the characters seemed to have been plagued with. I got angry at the fact that everyone in the book made really awful decisions though — which may have been a result of the depression?

My biggest criticism is the ending. The ending was too happy for such a depressing book. Everyone seemed to have finally learned from their mistakes all at the same time which doesn’t seem real.

I did like the many references to Narnia — except naming the drug Aslan. I’ll have to think more on the relationship between the book and the Chronicles of Narnia. Maybe there is no relationship except that the author liked the series as a kid.

Declutter 2017: Can Man (Mr. Man Can?)

Things

red can manI wish I remember on which trip to England I came to possess a 5 lb coffee can decoration. It might have been 1976 or possibly 1979. Anyway, one of Jeremy’s relatives — an Aunt perhaps? bought me a can man — I don’t know how else to describe it — at a church sale or something.

It is possible she knew of my love of the Mr. Men books and perhaps this was a homemade version of Mr. Strong? Anyway, I still have it. And I cannot get rid of it. Does it bring me joy? Not exactly joy — more like nostalgia or familiarity. I’ve owned this decoration for 40 years or so. It used to have two “arms” but one fell off years ago which is probably somewhere around here.

Until the basement remodel it sat next to the hamburger pencil holder on a shelf in the basement office. Before that it hung around my classroom — maybe holding rulers? Now it will hang out with me (and the hamburger pencil holder — see it in the background of the photo?) in my office attic. Maybe in our next declutter I will finally part with it.

Updates 1-29-2017:

I received a Facebook comment from Jeremy that clears up the mystery of this object: ” I think it was Auntie Ella, not sure when. They are a spin off from a t.v. quiz show featuring a character called dusty bin. They were probably made by a resident in Auntie Ella’s old folks home.” (Auntie Ella was a midwife, I believe — Jeremy’s grandmother’s sister. His grandmother had been one too. I always think of them when I watch “Call the Midwife”.)

I’ve decided to use him to hold all of the broken items that need to be disposed of in a different way than tossing them in the regular trash.

Declutter 2017: Aunt Ginny’s Book About Hunting Racoons

Things, , ,

Today Dean forced asked me to go through the books that belong on the basement bookshelves. I did and found three book boxes full of books I was willing to donate. I found hundreds I am not ready to part with and I found about 40 that I want to examine more closely before making the ultimate decision toss or keep. (joy or no joy)

One of these is a book by a D. Kuechler called Cooning With Cooners. At first I thought it said Crooning with Crooners and thought it might be about Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, and company. But no. It was actually Cooning with Cooners and is about shooting raccoons. I assume that is what it is about because the cover drawing depicts a man with a gun pointing at a raccoon in a tree that a dog has spied and possibly chased up the tree. I have not read any of the book, nor do I plan on reading it.

I wondered how I came to have a book (from 1924) about hunting raccoons, but then saw that it belonged to my Aunt Ginny. I still wonder how I ended up with it and why on Earth she was interested in hunting raccoons, but it will remain a mystery, I guess, unless she wanted to be a Lady Coon Hunter as described in a chapter written by Mrs. R. J. Merrick.

I’ll likely send this to Uncle Jack along with two books I found that belonged to him as a child. He can decide what to do with Cooning with the Cooners.

Lady Coon Hunters