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Nanaville: Adventures in Grandparenting
Mother, mother-in-law, grandmother--the Pulitzer-winning columnist and #1 bestselling author reflects on the roles we play throughout our lives, sharing personal stories and advice on the special joys and complexities of middle age.
It's a little challenging to suss out why exactly it can be so magical. . . . All I know is: The hand. The little hand that takes yours, small and soft as feathers. I'm happy our grandson does not yet have sophisticated language or a working knowledge of personal finance, because if he took my hand and said, "Nana, can you sign your 401(k) over to me," I can imagine myself thinking, well, I don't really need a retirement fund, do I? And besides, look at those eyelashes. Or the greeting. Sometimes Arthur sees me and yells "Nana!" in the way some people might say "ice cream!" and others say "shoe sale!" No one else has sounded that happy to see me in many many years.
Before blogs even existed, Anna Quindlen became a go-to writer on the joys and challenges of family, motherhood, and modern life, in her nationally syndicated column. Now she's taking the next step and going full Nana in the pages of this lively, beautiful, and moving book about being a grandmother. Quindlen offers thoughtful and telling observations about her new role, no longer mother and decision-maker but secondary character and support to the parents of her grandson. She writes, "Where I once led, I have to learn to follow." Eventually a close friend provides words to live by: "Did they ask you?"
Candid, funny, frank, and illuminating, Quindlen's singular voice has never been sharper or warmer. With the same insights she brought to motherhood in Living Out Loud and to growing older in Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake, this new nana uses her own experiences to illuminate those of many others.
It's a little challenging to suss out why exactly it can be so magical. . . . All I know is: The hand. The little hand that takes yours, small and soft as feathers. I'm happy our grandson does not yet have sophisticated language or a working knowledge of personal finance, because if he took my hand and said, "Nana, can you sign your 401(k) over to me," I can imagine myself thinking, well, I don't really need a retirement fund, do I? And besides, look at those eyelashes. Or the greeting. Sometimes Arthur sees me and yells "Nana!" in the way some people might say "ice cream!" and others say "shoe sale!" No one else has sounded that happy to see me in many many years.
Before blogs even existed, Anna Quindlen became a go-to writer on the joys and challenges of family, motherhood, and modern life, in her nationally syndicated column. Now she's taking the next step and going full Nana in the pages of this lively, beautiful, and moving book about being a grandmother. Quindlen offers thoughtful and telling observations about her new role, no longer mother and decision-maker but secondary character and support to the parents of her grandson. She writes, "Where I once led, I have to learn to follow." Eventually a close friend provides words to live by: "Did they ask you?"
Candid, funny, frank, and illuminating, Quindlen's singular voice has never been sharper or warmer. With the same insights she brought to motherhood in Living Out Loud and to growing older in Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake, this new nana uses her own experiences to illuminate those of many others.
162 pages, Hardcover
First published April 23, 2019
706 people are currently reading
4432 people want to read
About the author
Anna Quindlen
86 books4,722 followersAnna Marie Quindlen is an American author, journalist, and opinion columnist.
Her New York Times column, Public and Private, won the Pulitzer Prize for Commentary in 1992. She began her journalism career in 1974 as a reporter for the New York Post. Between 1977 and 1994 she held several posts at The New York Times. Her semi-autobiographical novel One True Thing (1994) served as the basis for the 1998 film starring Meryl Streep and Renée Zellweger.
Her New York Times column, Public and Private, won the Pulitzer Prize for Commentary in 1992. She began her journalism career in 1974 as a reporter for the New York Post. Between 1977 and 1994 she held several posts at The New York Times. Her semi-autobiographical novel One True Thing (1994) served as the basis for the 1998 film starring Meryl Streep and Renée Zellweger.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 788 reviews
July 20, 2020
“Sometimes Arthur sees me and yells “Nana!’ in the same way some people might say “ ice cream!” and others might say “Shoe Sale!” No one else has sounded this happy to see me in many, many years.”
“Mama means Mama, Daddy means Daddy. But Nana might just be a piece of fruit (i.e. banana)”.
Well, if that didn’t put me in my place I don’t know what will, lol.
And this, my friends, is the yin and the yang, and perfectly sums up what it means to be a resident of Nanaville.
I’m a proud Nana. Our son and daughter-in-law have made my husband and myself the proud grandparents of 3: a 3 year old and 5 month old twins. The love I have for these children and what I wouldn’t do for them knows no bounds. It’s an indescribable love that surpasses all understanding. So when one of my favorite authors, Anna Quindlen, wrote a book on the subject I was first in line.
Her best advice to give a grandmother (or grandfather): butt out. It can all go so very wrong for this generation of helicopter parents who are now grandparents. The impulses are powerful, but must be curbed.
A major question all grandparents need to ask before opening their mouths:
Did they ask for your opinion?
I had to laugh at the daughter who gave her mother a 3 page single-spaced word doc before letting her babysit. Haha…been there done that 🙋🏻♀️ Suck it up Nana, it’s all about spending time with the grandchild. Never mind that you have successfully kept your babies alive and they are now fully functioning adults. Your unsolicited advice will be perceived as judgment and criticism, so be quiet.
The two commandments of Nanaville:
1. Love the grandchildren
2. Hold your tongue
“Nana judgement must be employed judiciously, and exercised carefully. Be warned: “those who make their opinions sound like the Ten Commandments see their grandchildren only on major holidays and in photographs.“
There’s no relationship on earth like that of a grandparent and child. It is true unconditional love and one that benefits both the grandparent and the child. if the roles are recognized and the boundaries observed, there’s nothing on earth quite like it.
“In Nanaville, there is always in the back of my mind the understanding that I am building a memory out of spare parts and that, someday, that memory will be all that’s left of me.”
Amen.
On the love a grandparent has:
“I am much more capable of seeing him purely as himself than I ever was with his father (the author’s son)”
It’s about being our best, to be our best selves around our grandchildren. It’s not about what you have to do but about what you want to do. What you want to do out of pure unconditional love.
I myself wouldn’t want to live anywhere else on earth but Nanaville. It's truly the Happiest Place on Earth. This book is a love letter to grandparents and grandchildren everywhere. I am not nearly as eloquent as Anna Quindlen and I'm ever so grateful she has put into words what I feel in my heart.
*Many thanks to NetGalley for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
“Mama means Mama, Daddy means Daddy. But Nana might just be a piece of fruit (i.e. banana)”.
Well, if that didn’t put me in my place I don’t know what will, lol.
And this, my friends, is the yin and the yang, and perfectly sums up what it means to be a resident of Nanaville.
I’m a proud Nana. Our son and daughter-in-law have made my husband and myself the proud grandparents of 3: a 3 year old and 5 month old twins. The love I have for these children and what I wouldn’t do for them knows no bounds. It’s an indescribable love that surpasses all understanding. So when one of my favorite authors, Anna Quindlen, wrote a book on the subject I was first in line.
Her best advice to give a grandmother (or grandfather): butt out. It can all go so very wrong for this generation of helicopter parents who are now grandparents. The impulses are powerful, but must be curbed.
A major question all grandparents need to ask before opening their mouths:
Did they ask for your opinion?
I had to laugh at the daughter who gave her mother a 3 page single-spaced word doc before letting her babysit. Haha…been there done that 🙋🏻♀️ Suck it up Nana, it’s all about spending time with the grandchild. Never mind that you have successfully kept your babies alive and they are now fully functioning adults. Your unsolicited advice will be perceived as judgment and criticism, so be quiet.
The two commandments of Nanaville:
1. Love the grandchildren
2. Hold your tongue
“Nana judgement must be employed judiciously, and exercised carefully. Be warned: “those who make their opinions sound like the Ten Commandments see their grandchildren only on major holidays and in photographs.“
There’s no relationship on earth like that of a grandparent and child. It is true unconditional love and one that benefits both the grandparent and the child. if the roles are recognized and the boundaries observed, there’s nothing on earth quite like it.
“In Nanaville, there is always in the back of my mind the understanding that I am building a memory out of spare parts and that, someday, that memory will be all that’s left of me.”
Amen.
On the love a grandparent has:
“I am much more capable of seeing him purely as himself than I ever was with his father (the author’s son)”
It’s about being our best, to be our best selves around our grandchildren. It’s not about what you have to do but about what you want to do. What you want to do out of pure unconditional love.
I myself wouldn’t want to live anywhere else on earth but Nanaville. It's truly the Happiest Place on Earth. This book is a love letter to grandparents and grandchildren everywhere. I am not nearly as eloquent as Anna Quindlen and I'm ever so grateful she has put into words what I feel in my heart.
*Many thanks to NetGalley for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
May 11, 2019
As a grandparent of thirteen, I adored this book. Every grandparent will recognize or relate to something in this book. Told in such a natural voice that I felt she was next to me and we were discussing Parenthood and how being a grandparent is even more special. Their is humor, lessons learned, experiences related, and how wonderful and special is the bond between her and her grandson. In fact, many of my favorite episodes in this book is when she is alone taking care of her grandson, or just spending time with him. Her wonder at this amazing little person shines through out.
"At a certain point you realize there's a higher level of agreement about grandchildren than there is about the benefits of democracy, or chocolate."
"A big part of our grandparent job is expressing ecstatic appreciation for everything from urination to reflexes. We must always silence the irritated voice of adult competency. Okay, I get it you drew a 3. But, honestly, a 3 isn't that hard."
"Because that's one of the really important things about books, that they enable you to talk to your children about all sorts of things, sometimes without speaking at all."
"At a certain point you realize there's a higher level of agreement about grandchildren than there is about the benefits of democracy, or chocolate."
"A big part of our grandparent job is expressing ecstatic appreciation for everything from urination to reflexes. We must always silence the irritated voice of adult competency. Okay, I get it you drew a 3. But, honestly, a 3 isn't that hard."
"Because that's one of the really important things about books, that they enable you to talk to your children about all sorts of things, sometimes without speaking at all."
March 10, 2019
Anna Quindlen is one of those writers that makes a reader happy that she is so prolific. As with Dani Shapiro, she is as proficient in memoir as she is in fiction, and this lovely sharing memoir of grandmother-hood is a good example. Having been a prize-winning journalist, she writes in a style I appreciate, in dispensing information in fine language without padding.
Here she discusses the role of the grandmother, how the hardest part of the role is stepping aside as an auxiliary, not performing the major role or make the big decisions. She examines, also, parts played by the mother, daughter, mother in law, and daughter in law, all of which she has been, leading to the differences in how the landscape of the concept of family has changed over the years even in her lifetime. Nowadays, the gradual morphing of the cookie jar gramma for instance into a get-down-on-the-floor-and-play glamma.
Although she is a boomer and I am a war baby, I can still relate to many of her observations and theories.
Here she discusses the role of the grandmother, how the hardest part of the role is stepping aside as an auxiliary, not performing the major role or make the big decisions. She examines, also, parts played by the mother, daughter, mother in law, and daughter in law, all of which she has been, leading to the differences in how the landscape of the concept of family has changed over the years even in her lifetime. Nowadays, the gradual morphing of the cookie jar gramma for instance into a get-down-on-the-floor-and-play glamma.
Although she is a boomer and I am a war baby, I can still relate to many of her observations and theories.
November 30, 2019
This book is a heart warming reflection/rumination about the joys and worries of being a grandparent. In the hands of experienced writer Anna Quindlen the book is also an enjoyable and interesting read. Along the way the author shares lessons learned from her own experience.
The book provides a glimpse into the details of her family. Anna Quindlen admits that she was surprised how well her son took to the tasks of parenting. She admits that she had some trepidations at first regarding her son's choice for a prospective wife—"the daughter of a Communist atheist country (i.e. China) whose boyfriend's family had deep Catholic roots." As it turned out and as described in this book, it sounds like she ended up with a wonderful daughter-in-law.
Quindlen acknowledges that not all grandparents end up with a healthy family situation. Some find themselves to be primary caregivers covering for irresponsible parents (i.e. their children), and other grandparents refuse to be involved in caregiving since they have already served their time in that role.
Quindlen imagines the changes that will take place in the future as her grandchildren go through middle-school age, adolescence, and adulthood. She can project the future with some certainty because she has had the experience with her own children. One can't help but feel good for Quindlen and the happy family relationships she describes.
Be warned: those who make their opinions sound like the Ten Commandments see their grandchildren only on major holidays and in photographs.Anna Quindlen observes that the number of and our concept of grandparenting has changed over the past couple of generations.
There are really only two commandments of Nanaville: love the grandchildren and hold your tongue.
I am sad to say that the grandparents who do otherwise are the ones about which we tend to hear most often, that great Greek chorus that says, mine were out of diapers by age two, how come he isn’t talking yet, and later on, I don’t like those friends of hers, why did you let her do that to her hair, and what kind of wedding is that? Many human relations are about power and control at base, but the grandparents who try to exercise that power and exert that control do so at their peril, especially with parents who may already be feeling frazzled and unsure. Which, as far as I’ve been able to tell, is most parents much of the time. (p.93-94)
The census bureau says that in the year Arthur (i.e. her first grandchild) was born, there were more grandparents in the United States than ever before in our history, up by nearly 25 percent in the last two decades. At the same time we are part of a funnel, the net effect of changing ideas about how many people reasonably constitute a family. My paternal grandfather had thirty-two grandchildren. His son, my father, had twelve. I don’t know how many grandchildren we will eventually have…but I can easily figure out that it would take some extraordinary act of either conception or adoption for me to come anywhere close to twelve. (p.121)As the number of grandchildren has decreased, the expected involvement of the grandparents in their grandchildren's lives has increased. Quindlen remembers her grandparents hardly noticing her—they certainly didn't get down of their hands and knees to play with her. Likewise, the involvement of the husbands in caregiving their children has increased over the years. Quindlen speculates that her father never changed a diaper.
The book provides a glimpse into the details of her family. Anna Quindlen admits that she was surprised how well her son took to the tasks of parenting. She admits that she had some trepidations at first regarding her son's choice for a prospective wife—"the daughter of a Communist atheist country (i.e. China) whose boyfriend's family had deep Catholic roots." As it turned out and as described in this book, it sounds like she ended up with a wonderful daughter-in-law.
Quindlen acknowledges that not all grandparents end up with a healthy family situation. Some find themselves to be primary caregivers covering for irresponsible parents (i.e. their children), and other grandparents refuse to be involved in caregiving since they have already served their time in that role.
Quindlen imagines the changes that will take place in the future as her grandchildren go through middle-school age, adolescence, and adulthood. She can project the future with some certainty because she has had the experience with her own children. One can't help but feel good for Quindlen and the happy family relationships she describes.
April 27, 2019
A thoughtful and funny tale on becoming a grandmother!
Anna entered her own, “Nanaville” with joy and love, thinking, “great, a do over.” (my words.) She was over-the-moon to welcome her eldest son, Quin’s, and daughter-in-law, Lynn’s, first child into the family of waiting relatives. As Anna explains, “First of all, let us acknowledge that, like virtually everything else they’ve done, the baby boomers tend to act as though they’ve invented grandparenting.” My answer to that would be, just as today’s parents think they invented parenting; which was never even a word when I grew up! Well, as we all know, we’re all wrong since it’s been done since mankind existed.
While Anna was adjusting to being a new Grandmother, this is to say trying to find those invisible borders of helping or intruding, she learned to bite her tongue and shove her hands in her pockets. She willingly admits this was difficult for her considering her personality is not usually in line with a quiet person. Her career as a journalist and writer leans toward speaking up. But there are new rules now, “I know you don’t want to consider this if you’re in the same position I am, and I keep hearing that there are people who pay the notion no mind, but we grandparents are secondary characters, supporting actors. We are not the leads. Mama. Daddy. These are the bedrock.”
Anna builds a trusting relationship with her daughter-in-law, Lynn, and tries to help her in any way she can; knowing new mothers have the physical conundrums to deal with other than a nursing infant. Sleep comes to mind, nutrition a fast second and perhaps a few minutes with her spouse. She does the same with her son, Quin, who once said he was never having kids, as many of us did in our mid-twenties, as she marvels at how loving and patient he’s become with his son, Arthur.
Best yet is the chapter on “NONO’s,” these are the women who are in denial of being grandmothers. “Which brings us to what I think of as the nono’s. These are the women who telegraph, at least privately to me, that they have mixed feelings about all this. The aging beauty who asked to be called ‘Glamma.’ A socialite who told me she’d invented the name Tootsie. ‘I’m happy to be a grandmother, but I don’t want to be a babysitter,’ another woman said. But for many of the nono’s, the issue is not time management but growing older. There is no question that whether you are forty or seventy, the simple fact of being a grandparent telegraphs aging.”
I could easily go on and quote so many funny and tender words from this fantastic book. I have always enjoyed anything Anna Quindlen has written, and this is no exception. Although we are the same age, graduated the same year from high schools less than 10 miles apart, she’s well ahead of me on grandparenting. (plus a few other things!)
I highly recommend this book whether you are in Nanaville, about to be in it, years from it…..oh whatever, read it, you’ll still enjoy yourself.
Thank you NetGalley, Random House, and the great Anna Quindlen
Anna entered her own, “Nanaville” with joy and love, thinking, “great, a do over.” (my words.) She was over-the-moon to welcome her eldest son, Quin’s, and daughter-in-law, Lynn’s, first child into the family of waiting relatives. As Anna explains, “First of all, let us acknowledge that, like virtually everything else they’ve done, the baby boomers tend to act as though they’ve invented grandparenting.” My answer to that would be, just as today’s parents think they invented parenting; which was never even a word when I grew up! Well, as we all know, we’re all wrong since it’s been done since mankind existed.
While Anna was adjusting to being a new Grandmother, this is to say trying to find those invisible borders of helping or intruding, she learned to bite her tongue and shove her hands in her pockets. She willingly admits this was difficult for her considering her personality is not usually in line with a quiet person. Her career as a journalist and writer leans toward speaking up. But there are new rules now, “I know you don’t want to consider this if you’re in the same position I am, and I keep hearing that there are people who pay the notion no mind, but we grandparents are secondary characters, supporting actors. We are not the leads. Mama. Daddy. These are the bedrock.”
Anna builds a trusting relationship with her daughter-in-law, Lynn, and tries to help her in any way she can; knowing new mothers have the physical conundrums to deal with other than a nursing infant. Sleep comes to mind, nutrition a fast second and perhaps a few minutes with her spouse. She does the same with her son, Quin, who once said he was never having kids, as many of us did in our mid-twenties, as she marvels at how loving and patient he’s become with his son, Arthur.
Best yet is the chapter on “NONO’s,” these are the women who are in denial of being grandmothers. “Which brings us to what I think of as the nono’s. These are the women who telegraph, at least privately to me, that they have mixed feelings about all this. The aging beauty who asked to be called ‘Glamma.’ A socialite who told me she’d invented the name Tootsie. ‘I’m happy to be a grandmother, but I don’t want to be a babysitter,’ another woman said. But for many of the nono’s, the issue is not time management but growing older. There is no question that whether you are forty or seventy, the simple fact of being a grandparent telegraphs aging.”
I could easily go on and quote so many funny and tender words from this fantastic book. I have always enjoyed anything Anna Quindlen has written, and this is no exception. Although we are the same age, graduated the same year from high schools less than 10 miles apart, she’s well ahead of me on grandparenting. (plus a few other things!)
I highly recommend this book whether you are in Nanaville, about to be in it, years from it…..oh whatever, read it, you’ll still enjoy yourself.
Thank you NetGalley, Random House, and the great Anna Quindlen
July 7, 2022
4 stars
Anna Quindlin was introduced to me in the late 90's with her book Black and Blue - which I still remember. She is one of a couple writers that can take a simple mundane day and turn it into a novel. I have read at least 6 of her probably over 20 novels and nonfiction works and have a dozen more on my to be read list.
This was a short book of only 162 pages, but you could tell how much she loves her grandchild. It is witty, and observational. It is funny and informing. You can read how her heart melts each time she sees her grandchild. Now playing this secondary role, she takes a step back, and just goes all out for pure enjoyment. No longer the authoritarian figure, a new bond is created - both with her grandchild and her son. No longer the main disciplinarian as Nana she can claim her grandson in a whole new light.
Your first grandchild is always special and this book brings out that overwhelming joy.
Anna Quindlin was introduced to me in the late 90's with her book Black and Blue - which I still remember. She is one of a couple writers that can take a simple mundane day and turn it into a novel. I have read at least 6 of her probably over 20 novels and nonfiction works and have a dozen more on my to be read list.
This was a short book of only 162 pages, but you could tell how much she loves her grandchild. It is witty, and observational. It is funny and informing. You can read how her heart melts each time she sees her grandchild. Now playing this secondary role, she takes a step back, and just goes all out for pure enjoyment. No longer the authoritarian figure, a new bond is created - both with her grandchild and her son. No longer the main disciplinarian as Nana she can claim her grandson in a whole new light.
Your first grandchild is always special and this book brings out that overwhelming joy.
May 16, 2019
What a sweet, sweet book that’s so spot on about the feelings, trials & joys of being a nana! AQ covers just about every aspect including the swearing nana “I am a nana with a rich vocabulary”. On keeping your opinions to yourself with your grandchild’s parents bc “Did they ask you?”. And the gem “A lucky woman gets to trade her MOM mugs in for a NANA mug.”
Wisdom and wit made this an enjoyable read!
Wisdom and wit made this an enjoyable read!
May 22, 2019
Here's the start:
"Sunlight spreads across the checkerboard tiles in the kitchen, and so many other things: wooden spoons, a rubber frog, Tupperware, a couple of puzzle pieces, some plastic letters, elements of the obstacle course of the active toddler. Did you know that the wheels on the bus go round and round, all through the town? They do, over and over again, sung by the robotic voice of some plastic magnetic thing on the refrigerator. Oh, and Old MacDonald has a farm. The hokey pokey? That's what it's all about.
This soundtrack, I know, will continue into perpetuity, first the nursery song, then the pop song, the rock song, the eagworms of motherhood that emanate from the toy radio, the computer, from behind a closed bedroom door with a placard that says PLEASE KNOCK. I have been here before. Sort of."
I dare you to resist reading on.
And how could you resist? With so much more to share, as the marvelous Anna Quindlen leads us newbies down the delightful path that is Grandmotherhood.
A member of that tribe? Don't miss this one.
"Sunlight spreads across the checkerboard tiles in the kitchen, and so many other things: wooden spoons, a rubber frog, Tupperware, a couple of puzzle pieces, some plastic letters, elements of the obstacle course of the active toddler. Did you know that the wheels on the bus go round and round, all through the town? They do, over and over again, sung by the robotic voice of some plastic magnetic thing on the refrigerator. Oh, and Old MacDonald has a farm. The hokey pokey? That's what it's all about.
This soundtrack, I know, will continue into perpetuity, first the nursery song, then the pop song, the rock song, the eagworms of motherhood that emanate from the toy radio, the computer, from behind a closed bedroom door with a placard that says PLEASE KNOCK. I have been here before. Sort of."
I dare you to resist reading on.
And how could you resist? With so much more to share, as the marvelous Anna Quindlen leads us newbies down the delightful path that is Grandmotherhood.
A member of that tribe? Don't miss this one.
August 18, 2019
It's so sad that legendary New York Times columnist Anna Quindlen has been reduced to this in her old age -- telling cute stories about her grandchildren. It's like dancing for pennies on the street! I can remember when she confronted the most dangerous and controversial issues of her day -- race, crime, violence against women.
Of course America has changed a lot since Anna Quindlen won the Pulitzer prize for her writing. Donald Trump is in the White House now. Mean, bad, racist Donald Trump. Back in the late Eighties Trump and Anna were both legends in New York City. But Trump was mean and bad, while Anna was kind and good. Like the time those five black boys got accused of raping a white woman in central park. Mean, bad, Trump took out a full page ad in the New York Times saying they deserved the death penalty before they'd even gone to trial! Of course Anna Quindlen took a totally different tack. She wrote about seventeen columns about the victim herself, painting her as a sort of modern day Joan of Arc. And only in passing did she remark that the evil, subhuman black boys were, of course, guilty of all charges, as black boys accused of rape always are.
This was before they'd even brought to trial.
Well, tragically, the boys they arrested -- and convicted -- were all innocent. They all did about five years in prison, which must have been terrible for them and for their families. But Trump never apologized. Anna Quindlen never apologized either. After the Central Park Five were exonerated, they sued the city for millions of dollars, and they won. The whole city betrayed them. The cops, the media, and the politicians. But the only person who was ever punished was the prosecutor, Linda Fairstein. She got kicked off a bunch of charity boards. And her publisher stopped publishing her mystery novels!
Why can't Random House drop Anna Quindlen the way Dutton dropped Linda Fairstein?
Of course America has changed a lot since Anna Quindlen won the Pulitzer prize for her writing. Donald Trump is in the White House now. Mean, bad, racist Donald Trump. Back in the late Eighties Trump and Anna were both legends in New York City. But Trump was mean and bad, while Anna was kind and good. Like the time those five black boys got accused of raping a white woman in central park. Mean, bad, Trump took out a full page ad in the New York Times saying they deserved the death penalty before they'd even gone to trial! Of course Anna Quindlen took a totally different tack. She wrote about seventeen columns about the victim herself, painting her as a sort of modern day Joan of Arc. And only in passing did she remark that the evil, subhuman black boys were, of course, guilty of all charges, as black boys accused of rape always are.
This was before they'd even brought to trial.
Well, tragically, the boys they arrested -- and convicted -- were all innocent. They all did about five years in prison, which must have been terrible for them and for their families. But Trump never apologized. Anna Quindlen never apologized either. After the Central Park Five were exonerated, they sued the city for millions of dollars, and they won. The whole city betrayed them. The cops, the media, and the politicians. But the only person who was ever punished was the prosecutor, Linda Fairstein. She got kicked off a bunch of charity boards. And her publisher stopped publishing her mystery novels!
Why can't Random House drop Anna Quindlen the way Dutton dropped Linda Fairstein?
April 24, 2019
Author Anna Quindlen is queen of all things warm and wise, and so it’s not surprising that her ode to grandmothering hits just the right note. I was lucky and read it free and early, thanks to Random House and Net Galley, but it would have been worth the purchase price had it come down to it. This friendly little book is available to the public now.
Quindlen’s memoir can double as a primer for her peers that are new grandparents also, but that’s not where its greatest strength is found. The most resonant aspect is that common chord, the eloquence with which she gives voice to our common experience. It makes me feel as if she and I are sitting together with our baby pictures—the grandbabies and our children that created them—and as she speaks, I am saying, “I know, right?” I chuckle as she recounts trends in the advice given by experts to new parents: when our first babies were born, we were told to put them to bed on their stomachs so they wouldn’t spit up and choke to death on it; then later children slept on their sides, which seems like a safe bet either way, but babies don’t stay on their sides very long; and now babies are supposed to be safer on their backs. And she voices so well the pride we feel when an adult that we have parented turns into a wonderful parent in his own right. And I nod in agreement as she says of her toddler grandson, “No one else has sounded that happy to see me in many, many years.”
Quindlen speaks well to the ambivalent moments as well, to the need to hold our tongues when we want to offer advice that hasn’t been requested; at the same time, there’s the relief that comes of not being in charge of all the big decisions. And I echo the outrage that she feels when some ignorant asshole suggests that our biracial grandchild is not part of our blood and bones. (A jerk in Baby Gap wants to know where she got him; she replies that she found him at Whole Foods.)
Unequivocally joyful is the legacy grandchildren present. “I am building a memory out of spare parts…someday that memory will be all that’s left of me.”
And then, there are the books:
“’In the great green room…’
“’Mouse,’ Arthur says.
“’There is a mouse,’ I say…falling down the well of memory as I speak, other children, other chairs.”
Go ahead. Read it with dry eyes. I dare you.
Quindlen is writing for her peers. If you aren’t a grandparent and don’t expect to become one anytime soon (or perhaps at all,) then this memoir will probably not be a magical experience for you. But the title and book jacket make it clear exactly where she is going, and I am delighted to go with her.
Highly recommended to grandparents, and to those on the cusp.
Quindlen’s memoir can double as a primer for her peers that are new grandparents also, but that’s not where its greatest strength is found. The most resonant aspect is that common chord, the eloquence with which she gives voice to our common experience. It makes me feel as if she and I are sitting together with our baby pictures—the grandbabies and our children that created them—and as she speaks, I am saying, “I know, right?” I chuckle as she recounts trends in the advice given by experts to new parents: when our first babies were born, we were told to put them to bed on their stomachs so they wouldn’t spit up and choke to death on it; then later children slept on their sides, which seems like a safe bet either way, but babies don’t stay on their sides very long; and now babies are supposed to be safer on their backs. And she voices so well the pride we feel when an adult that we have parented turns into a wonderful parent in his own right. And I nod in agreement as she says of her toddler grandson, “No one else has sounded that happy to see me in many, many years.”
Quindlen speaks well to the ambivalent moments as well, to the need to hold our tongues when we want to offer advice that hasn’t been requested; at the same time, there’s the relief that comes of not being in charge of all the big decisions. And I echo the outrage that she feels when some ignorant asshole suggests that our biracial grandchild is not part of our blood and bones. (A jerk in Baby Gap wants to know where she got him; she replies that she found him at Whole Foods.)
Unequivocally joyful is the legacy grandchildren present. “I am building a memory out of spare parts…someday that memory will be all that’s left of me.”
And then, there are the books:
“’In the great green room…’
“’Mouse,’ Arthur says.
“’There is a mouse,’ I say…falling down the well of memory as I speak, other children, other chairs.”
Go ahead. Read it with dry eyes. I dare you.
Quindlen is writing for her peers. If you aren’t a grandparent and don’t expect to become one anytime soon (or perhaps at all,) then this memoir will probably not be a magical experience for you. But the title and book jacket make it clear exactly where she is going, and I am delighted to go with her.
Highly recommended to grandparents, and to those on the cusp.
October 3, 2021
I think now is the perfect time to read this for the first time. I just graduated high school, and am on my way to college orientation as we speak. That all means I am about to start the next stage of my life, which I hope includes family connection and eventually becoming a mother of my own.
At this stage of my life, I appreciate Quindlen's reflections on how her childhood was different than her children's, and how her grandchildren's would be even more so. Her observations on changing family dynamics are very well written as well, and the way she talks about her family's evolution from fully Irish Catholic to the diversity her children have in their marriages and in their lives was very interesting. It serves as a good reminder that people can grow out of prejudices.
It's also really interesting to read her thoughts on the changing meaning of a grandparent. She says the modern grandparent is a fairly recent invention, and I guess it must be, although I've never really thought about that that way. By the time I was six, I only had one living grandparent, my maternal grandmother, who lived far enough away that I never got to have this type of relationship with her.
My grandmother was born in the Depression era, or maybe right at the start of World War Two. Reading this book made me think about that in a different light. I know my mom had a fairly good relationship with her as a teen, but I never really knew her. She was very set in her ways, and until I was a teenager I never took the time to understand her.
I've only recently become interested in family history, and really especially only after looking at family photos from way back at her brother's house. I'm really hoping I can talk to my mom's uncles more and try to learn a little more about the family history. Nanaville has rekindled this interest.
Now was a perfect time for a first read of this story. I can see myself reading it at two other times, two other pivotal points in my life. One would be when I am an expecting mother for the first time, either naturally or adoptive. The second reread will be at the time I'm about to become a grandmother, assuming I live that long. I know that at those points in my life, a book like this will be very helpful.
Disclaimer:
At this stage of my life, I appreciate Quindlen's reflections on how her childhood was different than her children's, and how her grandchildren's would be even more so. Her observations on changing family dynamics are very well written as well, and the way she talks about her family's evolution from fully Irish Catholic to the diversity her children have in their marriages and in their lives was very interesting. It serves as a good reminder that people can grow out of prejudices.
It's also really interesting to read her thoughts on the changing meaning of a grandparent. She says the modern grandparent is a fairly recent invention, and I guess it must be, although I've never really thought about that that way. By the time I was six, I only had one living grandparent, my maternal grandmother, who lived far enough away that I never got to have this type of relationship with her.
My grandmother was born in the Depression era, or maybe right at the start of World War Two. Reading this book made me think about that in a different light. I know my mom had a fairly good relationship with her as a teen, but I never really knew her. She was very set in her ways, and until I was a teenager I never took the time to understand her.
I've only recently become interested in family history, and really especially only after looking at family photos from way back at her brother's house. I'm really hoping I can talk to my mom's uncles more and try to learn a little more about the family history. Nanaville has rekindled this interest.
Now was a perfect time for a first read of this story. I can see myself reading it at two other times, two other pivotal points in my life. One would be when I am an expecting mother for the first time, either naturally or adoptive. The second reread will be at the time I'm about to become a grandmother, assuming I live that long. I know that at those points in my life, a book like this will be very helpful.
Disclaimer:
February 13, 2019
Essentially the literary equivalent of a grandmother proudly whipping out a wallet full of photos (or, more accurately these days, an IPhone) of her much adored grandson. Prolific author Anna Quindlen pens a love letter to her role as paternal grandma of Arthur, the first child of her son and daughter-in-law. As expected, being a Nana is a title she covets and Arthur a child upon whom she devotes much love and attention. Although this a quick read without any new or profound revelations, even I, not a Nana much less a mother myself, felt my heart lift with satisfaction and joy as Nana Quindlen expressed her sentiments.
May 6, 2019
I just finish this book, a fast and easy read. The first thought that comes to my mind is this probably would’ve been best served as a podcast. It was just a random open conversation about how QUINDLEN embraced becoming a grandmother. The second thought that comes to my mind is this:
Had this been written by somebody other than a renowned and prolific author, would this ever have gotten Published? I know that there have been better books by unknown authors that have been rejected.
Had this been written by somebody other than a renowned and prolific author, would this ever have gotten Published? I know that there have been better books by unknown authors that have been rejected.
November 23, 2019
Very quick enjoyable read.
May 5, 2019
This is a fun book about being a grandparent, but also holds many truths about being a mother, mother-in-law, and grand-parenting.
April 25, 2020
A sweet and gentle book I suppose, but I picked it up and put it down a few times and just couldn’t get into it. A little more than halfway through I gave up. Maybe I find my own grandchildren far more interesting and got bored with hers.
January 19, 2020
"One of the differences between grandchildren and grandparents is that grandchildren think they have all the time in the world, and grandparents only wish they had."
May 1, 2019
Nanaville is another irresistible memoir (especially for new grandmothers) by one of my most favorite and prolific authors, Anna Quindlen. I was thrilled to learn that I had won an Advance Reader's Copy through Goodreads, but waited until we were on our three-week road trip before I started reading. I knew I would enjoy it, but wanted to wait until I had a big chunk of uninterrupted time before beginning. From the opening pages, I was hooked, reaching for my Post-It flags, nodding my head in agreement. While my desire to mark passages eventually waned, my interest never did.
On the Shifting Rules of Parenting:
He is also not supposed to be sleeping on his stomach. I cycled through prevailing medical opinion on sleep positions as a young mother. I was supposed to put the first on his stomach so that if he spit up he wouldn't aspirate it into his lungs. (I love it when you hear things like this. The doctor is saying very calmly, "Aspirate into his lungs" and you're nodding and thinking, Aspirate? Into his lungs?) Number two was supposed to be on his side. Have you ever tried to get a baby to sleep on his side? The package is not designed that way. By the third there was some debate, side or back. It seemed someone, somewhere, had decided the lung-aspiration danger no longer applied. I settled the matter with my youngest by choosing the position in which she was most likely to settle down. I had three children under the age of five. Pragmatism was my middle name. If she wanted to sleep upside down like a bat, I would have put a bar on the ceiling above the crib. Whatever gets you through the night.
and a few more favorite passages:
Sunlight spreads across the checkerboard tiles in the kitchen, and so do many other things: wooden spoons, a rubber frog, Tupperware, a couple of puzzle pieces, some plastic letters, elements of the obstacle course of the active toddler. Did you know that the wheels on the bus go round and round, all through the town? They do, over and over again, sung by the robotic voice of some plastic magnetic thing on the refrigerator. Oh, and Old MacDonald has a farm. The hokey pokey? That's what it's all about.
This soundtrack, I know, will continue into perpetuity, first the nursery song, then the pop song, the rock song, the earworms of motherhood that emanate from the toy radio, the computer, from behind a closed bedroom door with a placard that says PLEASE KNOCK. I have been here before. Sort of.
and
It's a complicated relationship, being a good grandparent, because it hinges on a series of other relationships. It's an odd combination of being very experienced and totally green: I know how to raise a child, but I need to learn how to help my child raise his own. Where I once commanded, now I need to ask permission. Where I once led, I have to learn to follow. For years I had strong opinions for a living. Now I need to wait until I am asked for them, and modulate them most of the time. Probably I overreact.
and
...I'm learning that being a grandmother is not about the things you have to do. It's about the things you want to do. The fact is that motherhood is mainly about requirements. Very, very little of it is optional, if you're doing it with even a modicum of care. There's no sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and the remote control, saying to yourself, I don't really have to feed that baby. I don't have to change his dirty diaper. I don't have to keep an eye on the toddler when she's around the cat or take her to the pediatrician when she's a hot little bundle of bright red pulling at her ear and sobbing. Motherhood is mainly a roundelay of thou shalt, shalt, shalt.
Nana, unless she has become de facto Mom for some sad reason, is pretty much purely about desire. I've fed the baby, changed the diaper, crawled around on the floor while he went straight for the electrical outlet or the dog's tail. But I've done that because I offered and was accepted. Most grandparents are tethered but not tied, connected but not compelled, except by choice.
and
Is there anything better than sitting in a rocking chair with a little boy next to you while you read him Goodnight Moon? Is there anything more magical than the connection between reader and book, Nana reading and grandson listening? Arthur discovered the book The Story of Ferdinand, and because of the gentle bull, he is interested in both flowers and bumblebees. I assume he learning lessons about the possibility of being both strong and gentle, but who knows? All I know is that books are magic. The Story of Ferdinand was published when my father was seven years old, and yet here is his great-grandson attending as Ferdinand is taken to the bullring and refuses to fight.
Nanaville can easily be read in a single day, but as with most of Quindlen's books (a half dozen of which I have written about here), I prefer to read slowly, savoring this new book, drawing it out as long as possible in an attempt to make it last just a little bit longer.
My only grandchild (a beautiful, intelligent and kind-hearted young woman) is turning 17 this summer, has two part-time jobs lined up, and is heading off to college in the fall. While much of Quindlen's vignettes and advice apply to new grandparents, this gem of a book is one I look forward to reading again. My daughter is engaged to be married this fall and is hoping to start a family. I must admit, I would love to cuddle another little grandbaby again some day...
Now that I've finished her latest release, I want to get a copy and read Alternate Side, a novel of Quindlen's that was published 2018, which I somehow neglected to read.
I received a complimentary copy of this book. All opinions are my own.
On the Shifting Rules of Parenting:
He is also not supposed to be sleeping on his stomach. I cycled through prevailing medical opinion on sleep positions as a young mother. I was supposed to put the first on his stomach so that if he spit up he wouldn't aspirate it into his lungs. (I love it when you hear things like this. The doctor is saying very calmly, "Aspirate into his lungs" and you're nodding and thinking, Aspirate? Into his lungs?) Number two was supposed to be on his side. Have you ever tried to get a baby to sleep on his side? The package is not designed that way. By the third there was some debate, side or back. It seemed someone, somewhere, had decided the lung-aspiration danger no longer applied. I settled the matter with my youngest by choosing the position in which she was most likely to settle down. I had three children under the age of five. Pragmatism was my middle name. If she wanted to sleep upside down like a bat, I would have put a bar on the ceiling above the crib. Whatever gets you through the night.
and a few more favorite passages:
Sunlight spreads across the checkerboard tiles in the kitchen, and so do many other things: wooden spoons, a rubber frog, Tupperware, a couple of puzzle pieces, some plastic letters, elements of the obstacle course of the active toddler. Did you know that the wheels on the bus go round and round, all through the town? They do, over and over again, sung by the robotic voice of some plastic magnetic thing on the refrigerator. Oh, and Old MacDonald has a farm. The hokey pokey? That's what it's all about.
This soundtrack, I know, will continue into perpetuity, first the nursery song, then the pop song, the rock song, the earworms of motherhood that emanate from the toy radio, the computer, from behind a closed bedroom door with a placard that says PLEASE KNOCK. I have been here before. Sort of.
and
It's a complicated relationship, being a good grandparent, because it hinges on a series of other relationships. It's an odd combination of being very experienced and totally green: I know how to raise a child, but I need to learn how to help my child raise his own. Where I once commanded, now I need to ask permission. Where I once led, I have to learn to follow. For years I had strong opinions for a living. Now I need to wait until I am asked for them, and modulate them most of the time. Probably I overreact.
and
...I'm learning that being a grandmother is not about the things you have to do. It's about the things you want to do. The fact is that motherhood is mainly about requirements. Very, very little of it is optional, if you're doing it with even a modicum of care. There's no sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and the remote control, saying to yourself, I don't really have to feed that baby. I don't have to change his dirty diaper. I don't have to keep an eye on the toddler when she's around the cat or take her to the pediatrician when she's a hot little bundle of bright red pulling at her ear and sobbing. Motherhood is mainly a roundelay of thou shalt, shalt, shalt.
Nana, unless she has become de facto Mom for some sad reason, is pretty much purely about desire. I've fed the baby, changed the diaper, crawled around on the floor while he went straight for the electrical outlet or the dog's tail. But I've done that because I offered and was accepted. Most grandparents are tethered but not tied, connected but not compelled, except by choice.
and
Is there anything better than sitting in a rocking chair with a little boy next to you while you read him Goodnight Moon? Is there anything more magical than the connection between reader and book, Nana reading and grandson listening? Arthur discovered the book The Story of Ferdinand, and because of the gentle bull, he is interested in both flowers and bumblebees. I assume he learning lessons about the possibility of being both strong and gentle, but who knows? All I know is that books are magic. The Story of Ferdinand was published when my father was seven years old, and yet here is his great-grandson attending as Ferdinand is taken to the bullring and refuses to fight.
Nanaville can easily be read in a single day, but as with most of Quindlen's books (a half dozen of which I have written about here), I prefer to read slowly, savoring this new book, drawing it out as long as possible in an attempt to make it last just a little bit longer.
My only grandchild (a beautiful, intelligent and kind-hearted young woman) is turning 17 this summer, has two part-time jobs lined up, and is heading off to college in the fall. While much of Quindlen's vignettes and advice apply to new grandparents, this gem of a book is one I look forward to reading again. My daughter is engaged to be married this fall and is hoping to start a family. I must admit, I would love to cuddle another little grandbaby again some day...
Now that I've finished her latest release, I want to get a copy and read Alternate Side, a novel of Quindlen's that was published 2018, which I somehow neglected to read.
I received a complimentary copy of this book. All opinions are my own.
April 3, 2021
Even though I'm a newcomer to this club, I can relate to several of lessons Anna Quindlen has learned from her experience as a first-time grandmother. Cute read!
November 4, 2024
Such a sweet book! I can’t wait to be a Nana:))
May 11, 2019
A fast read with many heartwarming stories and insights.
May 4, 2019
I don't think I'm going to finish it. It's just not that interesting. A big reason for that is that Anna Quindlen is opining on this topic of grandparenting when the baby is still just tiny and there's only one. I think if you wanted to write about grandparenting, it might be better to wait until you had more experience at it. Otherwise a lot of it seems like a recital of platitudes.
Here's a quote, for example:
"And then there are the moments that are like lightning striking, like sunrise and sunset and New Years Eve all at once. I had one of those moments when I asked Quin what surprised him most about being a father. And he said, 'I guess it's how much I love him in a way I've never loved anyone before.' And, ladies and gentlemen, my work here is done."
See what I mean? Just kind of dull. Maybe there's more to this book in the second half, but I don't think I'm motivated enough to find out.
Here's a quote, for example:
"And then there are the moments that are like lightning striking, like sunrise and sunset and New Years Eve all at once. I had one of those moments when I asked Quin what surprised him most about being a father. And he said, 'I guess it's how much I love him in a way I've never loved anyone before.' And, ladies and gentlemen, my work here is done."
See what I mean? Just kind of dull. Maybe there's more to this book in the second half, but I don't think I'm motivated enough to find out.
November 18, 2019
I really enjoyed this book, and it was especially poignant since I watched my three-year-old and three-month-old granddaughters last week while my daughter was in the hospital having her gallbladder out. I could really relate to many of the things that Quindlen talks about, and her advice and lessons were absolutely on point. In trying to navigate this world of grandparenting, it's nice to know that there are books like this to help give a bit of advice for how to be involved, yet not too involved.
July 6, 2019
I really liked most of this book, especially the italics "small moments" pieces. There is an undercurrent of privilege running through though that annoyed me.
June 11, 2019
I agree with every single sentence! Plus, since I enjoy all of Ms. Quindlen's books, I loved the prose.
Too many highlighted passages to choose only a few.
Too many highlighted passages to choose only a few.
September 13, 2019
“I am changing his diaper, he is kicking and complaining, his exhausted father has gone to the kitchen for a glass of water, his exhausted mother is prone on the couch. He weighs little more than a large sack of flour and yet he has laid waste to the living room: swaddles on the chair, a nursing pillow on the sofa, a car seat, a stroller. No one cares about order, he is our order, we revolve around him. And as I try to get in the creases of his thighs with a wipe, I look at his, let’s be honest, largely formless face and unfocused eyes and fall in love with him. Look at him and think, well, that’s taken care of, I will do anything for you as long as we both shall live, world without end, amen.”
Before blogs even existed, Anna Quindlen became a go-to writer on the joys and challenges of family, motherhood, and modern life, in her nationally syndicated column. Now she’s taking the next step and going full nana in the pages of this lively, beautiful, and moving book about being a grandmother. Quindlen offers thoughtful and telling observations about her new role, no longer mother and decision-maker but secondary character and support to the parents of her grandson. She writes, “Where I once led, I have to learn to follow.” Eventually a close friend provides words to live by: “Did they ask you?”
Candid, funny, frank, and illuminating, Quindlen’s singular voice has never been sharper or warmer. With the same insights she brought to motherhood in Living Out Loud and to growing older in Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake, this new nana uses her own experiences to illuminate those of many others.
My Thoughts: I am a big fan of Quindlen’s novels and memoirs. She has a unique way of voicing our own concerns and helping us find those life moments that reveal so much.
Just as parenting has its own special moments that resonate with all of us who have lived through the challenges, grandparenting brings another dimension to our lives. A time in which we can step back, observe, and decide how to cautiously move forward into the sometime worrisome waters. We learn that our adult children and their chosen partners must set the guidelines, and if we want to benefit from a good relationship with the grandchildren, we must follow their lead.
Anecdotes and chapters designated “small moments” offer us that very insightful guide to a wonderful journey in the Land of Nanaville. 5 stars.
Before blogs even existed, Anna Quindlen became a go-to writer on the joys and challenges of family, motherhood, and modern life, in her nationally syndicated column. Now she’s taking the next step and going full nana in the pages of this lively, beautiful, and moving book about being a grandmother. Quindlen offers thoughtful and telling observations about her new role, no longer mother and decision-maker but secondary character and support to the parents of her grandson. She writes, “Where I once led, I have to learn to follow.” Eventually a close friend provides words to live by: “Did they ask you?”
Candid, funny, frank, and illuminating, Quindlen’s singular voice has never been sharper or warmer. With the same insights she brought to motherhood in Living Out Loud and to growing older in Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake, this new nana uses her own experiences to illuminate those of many others.
My Thoughts: I am a big fan of Quindlen’s novels and memoirs. She has a unique way of voicing our own concerns and helping us find those life moments that reveal so much.
Just as parenting has its own special moments that resonate with all of us who have lived through the challenges, grandparenting brings another dimension to our lives. A time in which we can step back, observe, and decide how to cautiously move forward into the sometime worrisome waters. We learn that our adult children and their chosen partners must set the guidelines, and if we want to benefit from a good relationship with the grandchildren, we must follow their lead.
Anecdotes and chapters designated “small moments” offer us that very insightful guide to a wonderful journey in the Land of Nanaville. 5 stars.
August 21, 2024
Whether you're a veteran grandma or a newbie nana, read this book. Now. It is packed with smart and savvy advice and stories that will make you laugh out loud and cry tears of joy—often at the same time. It's magnificent!
Nanaville is a place we grandmothers go with our grandchildren—that special sweet spot that is just the two or three or four of us. It could a front porch rocker, playing together under a blanket fort, or escaping together for an entire weekend. Nanaville is a state of mind more than a geographic location. It is the place where memories are made and grandchildren are likely to be spoiled.
Author Anna Quindlen, a former New York Times columnist and author of nine novels and more than a dozen nonfiction books, is the mother of three grown children, and when her eldest child, son Quin, and his wife, Lynn, had a baby, Quindlen got a new name: Nana. This is her memoir of being a new grandmother to sweet Arthur. It's a compilation of what she did right and what she did wrong. Lessons learned and love earned.
In addition to being a how-to guide to grandparenting, it's a commonsense compendium of informative anecdotes to which grandparents will instantly relate. Being a grandparent gives us a second chance not only to help raise a child, but also to reimagine our place in the world—to make an everlasting mark.
From reading a book while snuggling in a rocker to hunting frogs in the pond to sharing a sugary treat, she regales us with how her life changed when little Arthur became a part of it.
The real sparkle of this book is all the advice it imparts in a nonjudgmental and often humorous way. My favorite: "There are really only two commandments of Nanaville: love the grandchildren, and hold your tongue." Amen to that!
Nanaville is a place we grandmothers go with our grandchildren—that special sweet spot that is just the two or three or four of us. It could a front porch rocker, playing together under a blanket fort, or escaping together for an entire weekend. Nanaville is a state of mind more than a geographic location. It is the place where memories are made and grandchildren are likely to be spoiled.
Author Anna Quindlen, a former New York Times columnist and author of nine novels and more than a dozen nonfiction books, is the mother of three grown children, and when her eldest child, son Quin, and his wife, Lynn, had a baby, Quindlen got a new name: Nana. This is her memoir of being a new grandmother to sweet Arthur. It's a compilation of what she did right and what she did wrong. Lessons learned and love earned.
In addition to being a how-to guide to grandparenting, it's a commonsense compendium of informative anecdotes to which grandparents will instantly relate. Being a grandparent gives us a second chance not only to help raise a child, but also to reimagine our place in the world—to make an everlasting mark.
From reading a book while snuggling in a rocker to hunting frogs in the pond to sharing a sugary treat, she regales us with how her life changed when little Arthur became a part of it.
The real sparkle of this book is all the advice it imparts in a nonjudgmental and often humorous way. My favorite: "There are really only two commandments of Nanaville: love the grandchildren, and hold your tongue." Amen to that!
September 22, 2019
Anna Quindlen writes an essay, a novel, or a column in the "New York Times," and I take in every thought and opinion, marveling at her turn of a phrase, nailing down dialogue or nuance. "Nanaville," a collection of essays about becoming a grandmother is at once personal and universal, her story and that of many others. I am, once again, moved by her writing, nodding my head in agreement, shedding a tear, laughing at our folly.
Her descriptions of times with Arthur are lovely because they depict moments when he is exploring and learning, and she is in the moment, paying close attention, keeping the world at bay. What I enjoyed more were her many epiphanies. "Where I once commanded, I now need to ask permission."..."For years I had strong opinions for a living. Now I need to wait until I am asked for them, and modulate them most of the time."..."Butt out."..."Hang back. I cannot repeat this one often enough. Hang back"..."I am either the speaker of the house or the president pro tem of the Senate but definitely not the president or the vice president." Then there are her thoughts about the differences among her grandparents' and parents' generations; the changing landscape of a family when a son or daughter marries; differences in religion, race, ethnicity. She acknowledges this is all a work in progress, offering a chance to love in a different way; her sense of humor is embedded in every chapter as is her honesty about her own parenting.
"One of the differences between grandchildren and grandparents is that grandchildren think they have all the time in the world, and grandparents only wish they had." In the meantime, I cherish every moment with mine, breathing in their every stage, trying, most of all, not to be too weird.
Her descriptions of times with Arthur are lovely because they depict moments when he is exploring and learning, and she is in the moment, paying close attention, keeping the world at bay. What I enjoyed more were her many epiphanies. "Where I once commanded, I now need to ask permission."..."For years I had strong opinions for a living. Now I need to wait until I am asked for them, and modulate them most of the time."..."Butt out."..."Hang back. I cannot repeat this one often enough. Hang back"..."I am either the speaker of the house or the president pro tem of the Senate but definitely not the president or the vice president." Then there are her thoughts about the differences among her grandparents' and parents' generations; the changing landscape of a family when a son or daughter marries; differences in religion, race, ethnicity. She acknowledges this is all a work in progress, offering a chance to love in a different way; her sense of humor is embedded in every chapter as is her honesty about her own parenting.
"One of the differences between grandchildren and grandparents is that grandchildren think they have all the time in the world, and grandparents only wish they had." In the meantime, I cherish every moment with mine, breathing in their every stage, trying, most of all, not to be too weird.
September 13, 2019
“There are really only two commandments of Nanaville: love the grandchildren, and hold your tongue.”
“It's a complicated relationship, being a good grandparent, because it hinges on a series of other relationships... Because being a grandparent is determined by the relationship your child has with you, partly determined by the one a son or daughter has with his or her spouse, partly determined by the relationship you have with the person your child has chosen to have a child with.”
I am grateful to my friend Candace for recommending this book to me and to my public library for having it on the shelf when I needed an audiobook. I had a wonderful time listening to Quindlen’s thoughts on grandparenting.
I first encountered Quindlen through her essays and to be honest, I still miss them. She was always insightful and willing to share her personal convictions. It has been awhile since I read any non-fiction from Quindlen. This did not disappoint. My only wish would be that she would have read her own essay.
If you are a grandparent, or about to be one, pick this up. It is lovely and it is true.
“It's a complicated relationship, being a good grandparent, because it hinges on a series of other relationships... Because being a grandparent is determined by the relationship your child has with you, partly determined by the one a son or daughter has with his or her spouse, partly determined by the relationship you have with the person your child has chosen to have a child with.”
I am grateful to my friend Candace for recommending this book to me and to my public library for having it on the shelf when I needed an audiobook. I had a wonderful time listening to Quindlen’s thoughts on grandparenting.
I first encountered Quindlen through her essays and to be honest, I still miss them. She was always insightful and willing to share her personal convictions. It has been awhile since I read any non-fiction from Quindlen. This did not disappoint. My only wish would be that she would have read her own essay.
If you are a grandparent, or about to be one, pick this up. It is lovely and it is true.
December 8, 2019
Quindlen has long been a favorite. She notices the details and captures them, then ponders what they mean, but without pomposity. She doesn't pretend to have expertise, just some experience. There is humor to her writing, much self-deprecating, although mostly not jokes. Years of writing have gone into creating a natural, casual style that seems like no effort at all.
Here she is waxing wise about grandparenting: how it has changed over time as families have, how to do it well, how to get along with your child's beloved. Good, practical stuff intermingled with the charming details of her interactions with Arthur, her first grandchild. It's very sweet for the most part, although juxtaposed with just a few of the ways it could not be, such that it never becomes complacent.
This will likely be a very popular gift for women crossing that border for the first time.
Unrelated to my consideration for the text, I do have a issue with the book as an object:I really hate whole sections in italics. Two lines may be my limit. It feels weird to me, and I can't stop being aware of it. Forty-five years on the sans serif font of Jonathan Livingston Seagull, still bugs me, so of course, YMMV.
Library copy
Here she is waxing wise about grandparenting: how it has changed over time as families have, how to do it well, how to get along with your child's beloved. Good, practical stuff intermingled with the charming details of her interactions with Arthur, her first grandchild. It's very sweet for the most part, although juxtaposed with just a few of the ways it could not be, such that it never becomes complacent.
This will likely be a very popular gift for women crossing that border for the first time.
Unrelated to my consideration for the text, I do have a issue with the book as an object:I really hate whole sections in italics. Two lines may be my limit. It feels weird to me, and I can't stop being aware of it. Forty-five years on the sans serif font of Jonathan Livingston Seagull, still bugs me, so of course, YMMV.
Library copy
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