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Ten Circles Upon the Pond: Reflections of a Prodigal Mother
In this wonderfully warm and humorous, loving and reflective book, Virginia Tranel looks at her life through the ten children she brought so joyously into this world.
In 1957, as a young Catholic-raised bride from Iowa, she headed into the rural West with her husband. Within the year she gave birth under ether to her first child. That son was a senior in college in 1978, when her tenth and last child was born—an unmedicated birth that, in a sense, symbolized her journey toward consciousness during those years of enormous social change.
Virginia Tranel traces that journey by centering one chapter on each child; she weaves back and forth in time, recapturing the dozen moves that her vagabond family made over the years as they sought roots in the Wyoming foothills and the prairie towns of Montana. We crisscross the country with her in a Travelall full of contentious children on the way home from visiting grandparents in Iowa; we share her mortification when the Tranel youngsters unabashedly commandeer the pool at a posh resort where their father is attending a psychologists’ convention; we await anxiously for news of the two oldest boys lost hiking in the Rocky Mountains; we anguish with the parents over whether they’ve done enough for a middle daughter.
The scene shifts to the to a confrontation with her firstborn, who accuses his mother of polluting the environment with her unbridled fertility; to Mad-rid, where a grown daughter teaches her to face new challenges; to the Alaskan tundra, where another son, who works for the National Park Service, opens up new wonders to his parents; to Atlanta, where daughter Monica is rowing with the U.S. Women’s Eight, favored to take the ’96 Olympic Gold; to New York, where architect son Ben, working in Manhattan, e-mails firsthand reports of the horrors of September 11.
But it is the domestic details over a span of forty years—the kneading of bread, the making of a quilt or a communion dress, a child’s first day of kindergarten, the sharing of closets and clothes and chicken pox—that Virginia Tranel so tellingly describes, leading seamlessly into a homily that always strikes to the heart of the
matter.
Part memoir and part reflection on how our culture affects our choices and shapes the relationship between parents and progeny, this unique book is a deeply probing, moving, and illuminating testament to the power of family, to the bonds that hold us together, and to our connection to the land that nurtures us. It is a truly American story.
In 1957, as a young Catholic-raised bride from Iowa, she headed into the rural West with her husband. Within the year she gave birth under ether to her first child. That son was a senior in college in 1978, when her tenth and last child was born—an unmedicated birth that, in a sense, symbolized her journey toward consciousness during those years of enormous social change.
Virginia Tranel traces that journey by centering one chapter on each child; she weaves back and forth in time, recapturing the dozen moves that her vagabond family made over the years as they sought roots in the Wyoming foothills and the prairie towns of Montana. We crisscross the country with her in a Travelall full of contentious children on the way home from visiting grandparents in Iowa; we share her mortification when the Tranel youngsters unabashedly commandeer the pool at a posh resort where their father is attending a psychologists’ convention; we await anxiously for news of the two oldest boys lost hiking in the Rocky Mountains; we anguish with the parents over whether they’ve done enough for a middle daughter.
The scene shifts to the to a confrontation with her firstborn, who accuses his mother of polluting the environment with her unbridled fertility; to Mad-rid, where a grown daughter teaches her to face new challenges; to the Alaskan tundra, where another son, who works for the National Park Service, opens up new wonders to his parents; to Atlanta, where daughter Monica is rowing with the U.S. Women’s Eight, favored to take the ’96 Olympic Gold; to New York, where architect son Ben, working in Manhattan, e-mails firsthand reports of the horrors of September 11.
But it is the domestic details over a span of forty years—the kneading of bread, the making of a quilt or a communion dress, a child’s first day of kindergarten, the sharing of closets and clothes and chicken pox—that Virginia Tranel so tellingly describes, leading seamlessly into a homily that always strikes to the heart of the
matter.
Part memoir and part reflection on how our culture affects our choices and shapes the relationship between parents and progeny, this unique book is a deeply probing, moving, and illuminating testament to the power of family, to the bonds that hold us together, and to our connection to the land that nurtures us. It is a truly American story.
- GenresMemoirNonfictionFamily
336 pages, Hardcover
First published April 22, 2003
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
March 25, 2017
This was a reread for me, as a way of dealing with my recent bouts of anxiety. I appreciate it even more now than I did when I first read it, not long after Henry was born. There's a lot to inspire here, about balancing self and marriage and motherhood, even for those of us who don't have ten (!) kids.
July 31, 2011
Interesting view on parenting, on feminism, motherhood...family dynamics etc.
February 8, 2010
Reminds me of Madeline L'Engles Crosswicks Journals.....
July 21, 2021
Mrs. Tranel is the mother of ten kids. She and her husband are Iowa Catholics, they get married in 1957, and start having kids for the next twenty years, raising the family in mostly Montana and Wyoming. The last kid is born 1978.
The book is well written, and Mrs. Tranel is intelligent, and well versed. She is a caring and thoughtful mother. She quotes Jung and Shakespeare. While I admire the author, I don’t think this is a great book. It is too short, too gracious, it skips over so much. It reminds me of the quote from a poem “Kathe Kollwitz” by Muriel Rukeyser. The quote is “what would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? /The world would split open.”
Not many women, and mothers in particular, want their world to split open, I understand. It is how one survives. Step around the big stuff, such as the dissonance between being a housewife and Catholic Mother during the social and political upheavals of the sixties and seventies. Don’t get too immersed in figuring out the racial and economic politics of living on and working for an impoverished Crow community in Montana as part of the white, educated infrastructure. Let’s not dissect her subservience to her husband’s career that requires moves and sacrifices and lots of driving in snow.
Because the author doesn't delve into anything, it is supremely unsatisfying. Part of the issue is the book is limited to ten chapters-one for each kid. How sweet and how convenient. It kind of lets her off the hook. It was sad that she and her husband snubbed her daughter’s (non-Catholic) wedding, but no need to dwell. Mrs Tranel receives judgement from strangers and mistreatment from male ob/gyn docs, but that is just another anecdote squeezed between the births and moves.
Her tales of motherhood are entertaining enough. She consults that old classic Dr. Spock, whose advice seems sensible and helpful. She understands the lunacy of educational trends that swing back and forth. She finally got a clothes dryer around kid number five.
When one of her daughters if five years old, Mrs. Tranel takes her into town for a birthday party. The little girl tells her mom that this is the only time they have ever been alone together. Mrs. Tranel is shocked by this. She shouldn’t be—at this point she has seven kids and left a a 3-year-old and 8-month-old home watched by her husband (who seems supportive enough and involved).
Not surprisingly, there is a healthy dose of Catholic sexual repression. At one point, the author tells her daughter: “Casual sex is an oxymoron” and I get peeved. Okay, baby machine, maybe accept there are other ways to live. Her young twenties daughter Monica comes through for a visit with a dude. The author complains about this indignity--at least her older kids, if they did such thing, “shrewdly kept it to their selves”. Stupid two-faced Catholic idiocy, I know it well. Hale Monica for being freaking honest. Sorry oldsters, people have sex. Give it a rest. Stop wanting everyone to pretend and lie so your small minded view of the world is not disrupted.
In conclusion, while not a fascinating exploration, it is a pleasant walk. Nothing wrong with that. At the end of her book, she has enjoyment of grandchildren, traveling, writing. So that is cool.
July 10, 2018
Interesting and inspirational. Still not sure how she did it all though.
July 21, 2009
This is a must read for every mother or anyone who grew up in a family with siblings. I loved it! It was thoughtful, funny, and beautifully written. It was proof that you can raise ten children and still have some brain cells left. I'm definiitely going to give it to my two sisters to read.
May 16, 2007
Enjoyable memoir about a woman who had ten children, although it doesn't provide an equal amount of stories about each child, leaving it a little uneven.
May 15, 2008
This is a fun book about a MOm raising 10 kids. It is a little out of touch with how families are today, but very helpful in some family strategies.
March 14, 2010
loved this book! Went to college with a couple of these Tranels - a tender and affirming read.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews