Boekenweek Part 2: You Have Me to Love

You Have Me to Love by Jaap Robben, Translated by David Doherty, © 2014, World Editions

Grief is a familiar topic for me. So when I read the description of 'You Have Me to Love' by Jaap Robben, the theme spoke to me.

"On a remote island somewhere in the North Atlantic, a nine-year-old boy looks on helplessly as his father is swept out to sea. Consumed by guilt and paralyzed by his mother's frantic grief, Mikael cannot bring himself to tell the truth about what happened. As the pair struggle to restore the fragile balance of their isolated lives, the young widow starts to demand the impossible of her only son."

A woman distraught over the loss of her husband is relatable. Hearing the story from her son's perspective is intriguing. Delving into her complicated and prolonged grief is disturbing, but worth exploring with the help of Robben's powerful prose. How does anyone handle someone stuck in their bereavement, especially when you have your own loss to process and understand? That is Mikael's challenge, and he is only 9 years old when his father drowns. Plus, he lives on an isolated island with no other support at his disposal to help either himself or his grieving mother. It sounds like a recipe for disaster.

While the subject matter is challenging, Robben tackles the novel with an unexpected beauty. Guilt is a familiar emotion in grief and Mikael struggles with it, especially as he is the only witness to his father's death. As the years pass, he tries to embrace love and acceptance once more, only to be confronted by his mother's inability to process her own grief. Add to that the spectre of loneliness—another component of bereavement—and compound it with their remote island home. How is one to find hope? Readers can only pray that Mikael can find the strength and maturity to combat his mother's impossible demands. To say anything more, would spoil the plot for readers eager to dive into Robben's highly-acclaimed novel.

The book is currently being adapted into an English-language film.

Boekenweek

Jaap Robben

'You Have Me to Love' is the second novel I had the pleasure of reading for Boekenweek. What a week to celebrate; a festival of literature for 10 days! I choose to read Thirty Days and You Have Me to Love to explore both a Belgian (Verbeke) and Dutch (Robben) author—Belgium and the Netherlands being the two main host countries of Boekenweek.

While Verbeke's novel was excellent, Robben's perfectly touched on this year's theme—The Mother The Woman. The blurred lines between those roles are a stark part of Robben's engaging narrative. As a woman, where do the lines start and end in motherhood? You might want to check out more books from this year's Boekenweek theme to help figure that out.

World Editions also provides more information about Boekenweek and the many tours, readings, and festivals going on in North America from March 23-31, 2019. They are proud supporters of high-quality English literature on a world scale, with an affinity for their European and, more specifically, their Dutch roots. Care to read more of their books? World Editions can help.

Countdown America

In celebration of International Women's Day, today I look at a book not only written by a woman, but featuring an amazingly strong female protagonist. As a woman, we often feel like we have to do it all to come close to making it in today's demanding world. As a single parent, that pressure is even more, as there literally isn't anyone else to step up and take the reins to give that much needed break on occasion. 

Author M.C. Fox gets that and created a character all women can relate to and gain inspiration from. You won't be able to put down her newest book Countdown America. Don't take my word for it though. Hear what Fox has to say about her novel in her own words.

Countdown America: Talking with M.C. Fox

Question: Tell us what Countdown America is all about.

M.C. Fox:. Countdown America is about a single mom, Isabella Bendel, who rises through the ranks of the CIA to Chief Supervisor of the Cyber Terrorism Unit. She finds herself at the other end of a case she never thought she would ever be on. Trying to figure out why she has become a target, while also trying to figure out why her family has been abducted. This is the toughest mission she has ever worked. She finds herself fighting her way through assassins, cyber-terrorists, and duplicitous fellow agents, as she uncovers a Russian plot that is hell-bent on destroying the United States.

Q: What inspired you to write this novel?

Fox: Initially it was hearing about Russia’s attacks against countries of the former Soviet Republic. More recently, the news of the moles found in the United States, the hacking of our elections, and as reported, political meddling in several other countries. I thought it was the perfect ingredients for a spy story set in the world of political cyber-espionage.

Q: Isabella Bendel seems like a fierce character. What was your motivation behind creating such a strong female protagonist?  

Fox: Firstly, I wanted to create a female lead. There are not a lot of female lead characters in the spy genre. In my mind, Isabella couldn’t be anything but strong considering she is a single mom, and in her case, her line of work. I believe she is a good role model for women. She rises above her emotional distress and her vulnerability and carries on with the task at hand.

Q: It is interesting that you created Isabella to be a single mother. What was your thought behind that choice?

Fox: My thought was to create a strong yet vulnerable character. Being a single mom can be very vulnerable. You are doing it all. There are so many single mom’s out there that feel they can’t make it on their own, can’t do what they need to do to take care of their children.  I think it can speak to those single mom’s that don’t feel they can do it all. When they see Isabella doing it, it could help them see that they can too.

Q: And why cyber security – why did you tackle that subject?

Fox: It is a very “now” thing and I thought it would make a great plot line. We hear more and more of cyber related threats out there, for example, identity theft, and hacking financial institutions to name a few. More recently Russia’s reported involvement in the hacking of the elections in the United States. Everything is cyber related and it is a real threat, as we see played out in the news more and more.

Q: Beyond being entertained, what do you hope readers take away from reading Countdown America?

Fox: I hope it moves people to rise above circumstances and succeed. To move past the notion that because they are female, or vulnerable, that success is not an option.  I also hope to bring awareness around cyber threat. We live in a day and age when everything is cyber related.  The threats are real and so too must be the efforts to remove that threat. 

M.C. Fox

For more information, please visit www.mcfoxauthor.com and connect with her on Facebook and Instagram. Countdown America can be found on Amazon and other retailers

What's Not Okay

Oh Canada; proud, strong and free

It has been a tough couple of weeks to be a Canadian. Last week, in two separate incidents, Canadian military members were killed; both random acts of violence, but both meant to be strikes against our country. The deaths rocked us as a nation. And with good reason. Despite the violence, we banded together and swore to remain united in our peace, honesty and trustful natures.

And then on Sunday, a well-loved and respected radio host from our public broadcaster was fired from a post that he helped to create. The media was set ablaze by a Facebook post he published outlining some of the details. He warned that more details would come from people intent on smearing him and his career. Well, those details have come forth and they are worse than ugly. As far as his career is concerned, it may or may not be salvageable. Certainly, his private life has been made public in such a way that the world seems to have been given a seat in his bedroom. Without benefit of trial, he has been condemned to the full extent that the media can punish him. And I struggle to look away.

I love Canada. It is my home and native land. I am proud to recognize myself as a native and yet ashamed that as a nation we apparently have been duped by a charming individual intent on his own self-fulfillment and satisfaction. I have read the stories and am aghast at every new piece of the plot. Women have come forth, both anonymously and now using their own faces and names, to share their stories. Have we harboured a criminal amongst us? Have we given a wolf sheep's clothing and begged him to lead us? It is not for me to decide and for that I am thankful. But the number of women who have shared stories too similar and too awful is enough to cause doubt in the most ardent supporters and fans. Those fans have dropped rapidly over the last week.

So why do I let the story of a celebrity who has fallen from grace affect me so? As Canadians, we are supposed to be good, honest people. We are supposed to put forth the best qualities that we can and emulate the unwavering faith in our country and humanity, like Corporal Cirillo and Warrant Officer Vincent did. Sure they weren't perfect, but they died in the line of duty, their lives taken as they represented all that is good, nay Great on Canadian soil. And now we are sullied by an individual that appears to have taken his self-serving needs much too far in their satisfaction. I don't need to name this individual for my fellow Canadians. His face has been splashed across the media this week, even while the CBC has ripped it off of any piece of their property. And if the reports are true, then so they should.

For the story is ultimately about women. The story is about respect or a lack thereof. The tales that are spewing forth tell of violence masked in consensual BDSM. The problem lies in the lack of consent, hence we speak of abuse. They say he hit them. Nine women claim this now. Who knows if more will come forth, others will keep their secrets to themselves, or some will recant these vicious images that us dismayed Canadians are being forced to witness. Regardless of how this story plays out, I suspect that the conversation about abuse will be a little louder now.

You see abuse doesn't always happen to the other woman. It doesn't always end up being meted out to the sluts or girls that 'wanted' it to happen. The women that are sharing these stories come from a wide variety of backgrounds and education levels. None of them seemed to ask to be hit. None of them seemed to enjoy being called names or being made to feel like it was a normal part of life. They all pushed the abuse into "the past" to try to move beyond it and try to forget how it made them feel. But today, they realized that for the actions they allowed to be Okay, by not standing up against the abuse, those actions continued and touched too many other people. And it was NOT ok.

It is NOT okay for someone to make you feel stupid, worthy of abuse, or like you asked for it. It is NOT okay for someone to hit you, choke you, or rape you. It is also not okay for someone to isolate you from friends, family or society, question your integrity, nor turn the blame back on yourself for actions they have taken. Too many women face some form of abuse in their lifetimes, whether it be physical and/or emotional, by the hands of strangers, casual acquaintances or those that we are supposed to love and trust. Because once that trust is damaged, the world becomes a more difficult place to negotiate.

I know this has become another rant and for that I am sorry. I struggle to come to grips with this breach of trust, this shattered faith in humanity that I hold so dear. I do believe that people are inherently good, but am sad to acknowledge that I feel akin to these women right now. I have never met any CBC personalities, but I knew someone who made me feel like it was my fault that he felt compelled to search my body, clothes and home for evidence of my misdeeds. Like I deserved to be cast as a disreputable woman because his insecurities and jealousy made him look for my guilt. He never found it, but left behind my shattered innocence in the wake of his accusations. He will never admit to his lies or improprieties, so I must move forward and attempt to find faith in humanity knowing that not everyone that smiles is a friend, and not everything that seems a gift is always so.

But this lesson is valuable nonetheless. And I refuse to let the small minority of people that do not understand how their actions affect others rule my world. For I am Canadian, proud, strong and free. I live in a place where men and women give their lives to protect mine. I prefer to see people who take up the cause to make the world a better place and refuse to be bullied by power-hungry individuals who can't see beyond their own noses and backyards. And I rally around women strong enough to stand up and say what is acceptable and what is Not. May you find peace in your release of those ugly memories that should no longer own you.

I am working on mine.

*If you are interested in more of the story that inspired this post, you can read more here...

Saturday's Email of the Week: When a Girl's Got To Go

Saturday's Email of the Week

Last week, I was picking on you boys out there. This week, I can't help but share this little jab at the ladies. I haven't quite hung my purse around my neck, but I am familiar with 'The Stance'. I know the rest of you ladies are too! Somehow it is just worse in a public bathroom as well. I don't have any qualms about doing my thing in the woods after dark (too much information - sorry), but present me with a questionable toilet seat and no toilet paper and the world is coming to an end, with me leading the parade! Ugh!! That is the reason why women always carry a purse full of crap by the way gentlemen. This has happened more than once to all of us.


I hope you have a lovely weekend. I survived my trek into the bush last weekend and shall be returning for another night of fun today. Happy Memorial Day to my American friends. Catch you later.

*~~~*

When you have to visit a public toilet, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the cubicle doors. 


Every cubicle is occupied. 


Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the cubicle. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! 


The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' (invented by someone's Mum, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your bag on the door hook, if there was one, so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mum would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!) down with your pants and assume 'The Stance'. 


In this position, your aging, toneless, thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but having not taken time to wipe the seat or to lay toilet paper on it, you hold 'The Stance'. 


To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, 'Dear, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!' 


Your thighs shake more. 


You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your bag (the bag around your neck, that now you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do, so you crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail. 


Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your bag, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest and you and your bag topple backward against the tank of the toilet.  


'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, while losing your footing altogether and sliding down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, 'You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get. 


By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl and spraying a fine mist of water that covers your bum and runs down your legs and into your shoes. 


The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force and you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too. 


At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a sweet wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. 


You can't figure out how to operate the taps with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting. 


You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it?) 


You yank the paper from your shoe, plonk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, 'Here, you just might need this. 


As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men's toilet. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long and why is your bag hanging around your neck? 


This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with any public toilets. It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers that other commonly asked question about why women go to the toilets in pairs. It's so the other girl can hold the door, hang onto your bag and hand you Kleenex under the door. 


This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could describe it so accurately.

Saturday's Email of the Week: Something for Me to Look Forward To - groan...

This one is for the ladies, but I am sure that it might get a giggle from you menfolk. They say you are supposed to start getting Mammograms at 40. After reading this email, I can't wait.

~~~~~

While conducting some business at the Court House, I overheard a
lady, who had been arrested for assaulting a Mammogram Technician,
say,  "Your Honor, I'm guilty but.....there were extenuating circumstances." 
The female Judge said, sarcastically, "I'd certainly like to
hear those extenuating circumstances."  I did too so, I listened as the
lady told her story.

"Your Honor, I had a mammogram appointment, which I actually
kept. I was met by this perky little clipboard carrier smiling from
  ear to ear and she tilted her head to one side and crooned, "Hi! I'm
Belinda! All I need you to do is step into this room right here, strip
to the waist, then slip on this gown. Everything clear?"

I'm thinking, "Belinda, try decaf. This ain't rocket science."
Belinda then skipped away to prepare the chamber of horrors.

With the right side finished, Belinda flipped me (literally) to
the left and said, "Hmmmm. Can you stand on your tippy toes and lean
in a tad so we can get everything?" Fine, I answered.

I was freezing, bruised, and out of air, so why not use the
remaining circulation in my legs and neck to finish me off? My body
was in a holding pattern that defied gravity (with my other breast wedged
between those two 4 inch pieces of square glass) when I heard and felt
a zap!

Complete darkness, the power was off!

Belinda said, "Uh-oh, maintenance is working, bet they hit a
snag." Then she headed for the door. 
"Excuse me! You're not leaving me in this vise alone are you?" I shouted.

Belinda kept going and said, "Oh, you fussy puppy...the door's
wide open so you'll have the emergency hall lights. I'll be right
back."

Before I could shout NOOOO! She disappeared. And that's exactly
how Bubba and Earl, "maintenance men Extraordinaire" found
me...half-naked with part of me dangling from the Jaws of Life and the
other part smashed between glass!

After exchanging a polite Hi, how's it going type greeting,
Bubba (or possibly Earl) asked, to my utter disbelief, if I knew the
power was off.. 
Trying to disguise my hysteria, I replied with as much
calmness as possible, "Uh, yes, I did but thanks anyway."

"OK, you take care now" Bubba replied and waved good-bye as
though I'd been standing in the line at the grocery store.

Two hours later, Belinda breezes in wearing a sheepish grin.
Making no attempt to suppress her amusement, she said, "Oh I am sooo
sorry! The power came back on and I totally forgot about you! And
silly me, I went to lunch. Are we upset?"

And that, Your Honor, is exactly how her head ended up between
the clamps...."

The judge could hardly contain her laughter as she said "Case Dismissed!