Monday, September 27, 2010

We Need to Talk About Kevin

We Need to Talk About Kevin;
By Lionel Shriver
(© 2003 Harper Collins)

It's that time of year again. Yes, I am speaking about my book club. We took a break for the summer, but our first meeting back is this evening. The wine will be chilling and appetizers always appetizing. So as I finished the book about a week ago, I thought I would get back into the swing of things and write a book review today.

***

Our first book of the year is "We Need to Talk About Kevin", by Lionel Shriver. I mentioned the book the other day in a post, but now that the book is finished, I can give you a broader picture of it. As I noted before, the book was a little dark in genre. The story opens with Eva Khatchadourian writing a letter to her estranged husband. She beseeches upon him to somehow forgive or understand her side of the story in the gruesome massacre of  seven students, a teacher and a cafeteria worker by their 15-year old son. She has not only had to deal with the ghastliness of this incident, but also the following trials that served to destroy her dignity, force her to sell her beloved travel guide company that she started from the ground up, and of course ultimately leads to the imprisonment of her son. Guilt at her flaws as a Mother is laced throughout this letter, and all the ones that follow.

"We Need to Talk About Kevin" is a work of fiction, but takes a very real look at potentially what makes a young mass murderer. Through letters to her husband, Eva paints the often difficult path she struggled with in raising a child that seemed disturbed from birth. From their son Kevin's birth, she laments on her lack of bonding, his incessant screaming and his seemingly critical eye on her. While she struggles to maintain that it is not all her fault, she illustrates over and over again her failings as a Mother. Eva recounts her life with her husband prior to them having children and constantly bemoans the losses she has had to suffer starting from the moment they conceived.

While portrayed as self-centered, I believe that Eva is too hard on herself and her overly critical eye. There are certainly incidents which seem regrettable in her child-raising abilities (to say the least), but as parents I believe that we are all often overly critical of our own ability to raise another human being at times. No one is perfect, but Eva seems to think that without perfection she is an abysmal failure. Perhaps given the final outcome of her son's life, she could have done more, but in her circumstances, parenting was a two-person job. It is apparent that despite the twisted mind that Kevin develops, he does have a certain measure of respect for his mother and very little for the father whom he patronizes with false platitudes from a very early age.

Can one person truly be to blame for another's faults? I have to wonder at the nature vs nurture balance, when the nurturing of Kevin does nothing to give him a base to enter society.

When Eva connives to have a second child to test whether it is truly her fault that Kevin is so twisted, I lose sympathy for her. I understand that she yearned for someone to love and to love her back, but she does not gauge the effect that this will have on the rest of her family. Her experiment to see if it is her maternal instincts that failed or if Kevin is truly just a bad kid, without even a thought to what might happen to the new child is selfish (and plausible? not so sure). Her beloved husband is not even consulted in this step and I wonder really at how beloved he really is with this flagrant lack of respect for him. He doesn't ever seem to forgive her for this and I wonder again, why they stayed together at all (except in part for story's sake).

While the story is well written, I have to say it was not a favourite of mine. I found Eva too critical and cannot cite lack of warm fuzzies from her own childhood as a great excuse. If we are to wonder at her upbringing as a possible cause to the calamities that befall Eva, I think perhaps this avenue should have been revealed more. I also wonder why Kevin's Grandparents are brought into the story at all, as they do not serve to advance the story or ignite other reasons as to why Kevin is so disturbed.

Regardless of my feelings, I understand that the story has been well received and is touted as an excellent take on the delicate topic of Columbine-style shootings in school. As my children were on the cusp of starting school, it didn't really make me want to let them go though. There was the barest hint of a positive note at the end of the story though, for which I am grateful in all of my silver-lined world.

Hope you are enjoying what you are reading... 

Saturday, September 25, 2010

The Sleep Over

Bath
free, fun
scrubbing, splashing, singing
wash off day's memories
Clean

Bed
close, secretive
reading, tickling, sharing
whisper in the dark
Sleep

Girls
exasperating, cute
playing, wiggling, giggling
never going to sleep
Friends

Friday, September 24, 2010

The Maytag Repair (Wo)Man

As I rap, clap, tapped on the washer
it just rang, clang, banged back at me.
No foul-mouthed fix,
nor long-sleeved tricks
could charm it back to be.

I push, shove, bumped on the side.
I pull, push, turned on the top.
No water did stream
or so it would seem,
as the lid slipped my fingers and did drop.

My 'driver twist, spin, whirled on the screws
a faceplate lift, wiggle, scraped as I removed
Wires splayed a'plenty
connections tight as any
so what have I done proved?

Not certified, authorized nor qualified
To identify, evaluate, nor repair.
Take away my tool-belt
before I leave a big welt
on confidence that reigns on false airs.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Soup's On!

After dropping the kids off at school this morning, I had an appointment downtown. Upon leaving my meeting, I found myself walking right into my favourite Farmer's Market. Not one to pass up on the colourful bounty of Fall, I hummed and hawed over the produce and picked up some fixings for soup. With the brightest colour of the garden patch catching my eye, I decided upon Borscht for lunch. Sweet fall beets are yummy in my books (and with my children being at school I don't have to listen to them moaning that they "don't like it!"). While I sometimes follow recipes, when it comes to soup I wing it, so here is today's take on it;

Thursday's Version of Borscht

So you start with some beets. I picked these up at the farmer's market this morning. Can we say Fresh!





Cut up for the soup pot











and then you chop up some carrots (also purchased at my favourite farmer's stall last weekend)


Onions and garlic add to the flavour as well, so get them in there! I bet you can guess where the onion came from (Yup, farmer Rick again! Geez, you're good) That pile of garlic is purely home grown though. I pulled up a bunch of my garlic about a month ago and have been drying it outside. Into that pot you go! No, I am not using all the garlic on the right hand side (Vampires begone!). Just three little ones will do.









All chopped  and ready to go
Don't forget your bouquet garni. Here I have used thyme, parsley, oregano, a sage leaf and a bay leaf. It is all from my garden, but the bay leaf. I do have a Bay tree that I have brought inside for the winter, but there were some dried bay leaves handy, so I am using one of those up today. If the term "bouquet garni" is unfamiliar to you, essentially it is a collection of fresh herbs tied with string and thrown into your concoction for flavouring. It is removed prior to consumption, but flavours your soup, stock or sauce that you are making without leaving behind visible traces of it. Wikipedia has an entry here. I try to use them as often as I can (cus I love feeling foie de foie) when I have fresh herbs available. This time of year my herb garden is chock full, so herbs go in everything I cook. Nuff said.

Thyme, parsley, sage, oregano and bay

Voila! A bouquet garni.
Throw them in a pot with stock and simmer. Sprinkle in some salt and turn the pepper mill over the soup pot a few times. Stir it up. Now go write a blog post or something, as it needs to burble for a while.
...
...
oops, don't forget to smash disconnect the smoke detector while your soup is boiling away. Mine goes off if I look at it for two seconds (freaking sensitive piece of @#$!%#@). I have just turned the fan on myself, so as the neighbours don't call the fire department (again - oops, last house and another story).

As an afterthought, some of the beet leaves got washed and tossed into the pot too. Mmmm, it is starting to smell good now! Tummy is rumbling, but the beets aren't cooked through yet. Run a load of laundry downstairs to fill a few minutes.
...
...

Ok, it's got to be ready by now! I'm starving. Pull the sour cream out of the fridge. It is the traditional addition to borscht and I just happen to have some handy. 

Now,

Leave me be so I can eat my soup!
Happy Thursday all :)

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

First Moments


new babe
on legs none too sturdy
still blinking away
memories of birth, seemingly early

Majestic


stunned in moments 
too fresh to comprehend
with a walk round the hay patch
and audience's eyes to lend

Miraculous


Ah, Mama stands close
spent, yet dutifully present
ready to give life eternal
to child's needs in this moment

Your privacy
lost in ticket sales
by unscrupulous flashes
of visitors over the rails


Anon,
Whilst camera's eye
does pry
can we deny
the eyes of the young
with purity of soul
dipped in a white halo
with vision?

~~~~~
This wobbly newborn drew me in with awe at new life, juxtaposed against the spinning madness of a local fair. I was smitten. 

Tomorrow's poetry fare over at OneShot is already up and running, so head on over and take a peek at the offerings this week. 

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