White Oleander by Janet Fitch, A Book Review by Rebecca Moll
Over 15 years ago, I read White Oleander for the first time. I had three kids under the age of five, two daughters. Now, at the end of my 2nd read, and a mother of two adult women, I find the take-away of a different color.
I have re-read several books at different places of my life and find the retrospect and prospect of this experience revealing. It is what one hopes for, life perspective, one little piece at a time.
Of course, the word "revealing" barely scratches the surface with Janet Fitch. With so many emotions, colors of humanness love, hate, devotion, obsession, complete sentences fall short. Yet, with gift and acumen (never take clever for granted), Janet Fitch does just that, she completes her characters with the written word. Through prose and poetry Janet creates a score, a story that seeps into our bones like a poignant, yet exquisite musical masterpiece, all the beauty and cruelty of a mothers and daughters, their elixir of life, a subliminal adsorption that paints the surface of our retrospect and prospect.
My hearts halts at the thought of Astrid and, immediately, my girls come to mind. How to describe the lioness of a mother's heart? Even Ingrid with her cold, calculated mind fiercely fought for her daughter's love.
Perhaps, I will re-read White Oleander for a 3rd time. Another 15 years, a few grandchildren in tow, a little blue-eyed, sweetheart of Emily, a serious and contemplative Julia. I look forward to the task.
Mothers and daughters. Mother's daughters and daughter's mother(s). Maybe, even, daughters' mother. What's in a name? Plural and possessive, both noun and verb? Ask me at my 3rd or 4th reading of this beautiful novel, it may take a great-grandmother to know.
For now, I know I am blessed to be both my mother's daughter and my daughters' mother. A lioness of devotion and obsession, this is an identity I will carry throughout time.
I have re-read several books at different places of my life and find the retrospect and prospect of this experience revealing. It is what one hopes for, life perspective, one little piece at a time.
Of course, the word "revealing" barely scratches the surface with Janet Fitch. With so many emotions, colors of humanness love, hate, devotion, obsession, complete sentences fall short. Yet, with gift and acumen (never take clever for granted), Janet Fitch does just that, she completes her characters with the written word. Through prose and poetry Janet creates a score, a story that seeps into our bones like a poignant, yet exquisite musical masterpiece, all the beauty and cruelty of a mothers and daughters, their elixir of life, a subliminal adsorption that paints the surface of our retrospect and prospect.
My hearts halts at the thought of Astrid and, immediately, my girls come to mind. How to describe the lioness of a mother's heart? Even Ingrid with her cold, calculated mind fiercely fought for her daughter's love.
Perhaps, I will re-read White Oleander for a 3rd time. Another 15 years, a few grandchildren in tow, a little blue-eyed, sweetheart of Emily, a serious and contemplative Julia. I look forward to the task.
Mothers and daughters. Mother's daughters and daughter's mother(s). Maybe, even, daughters' mother. What's in a name? Plural and possessive, both noun and verb? Ask me at my 3rd or 4th reading of this beautiful novel, it may take a great-grandmother to know.
For now, I know I am blessed to be both my mother's daughter and my daughters' mother. A lioness of devotion and obsession, this is an identity I will carry throughout time.
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