Wisdom from Robinson as portrayed in Lila

The latest in my reading is Marilynne Robinson's Lila, a third installment in a series following Gilead and Home, the former winning the Pulitzer in 2005. Many people point to Gilead as one of their favorites and for good reason. Robinson is able to capture the slowness of life, its complexities, and its struggles, while remaining committed to a deep spirituality and religiosity. She holds all of those themes in a work of fiction (could it even be done in non?) in heartbreaking and beautiful ways.

If unfamiliar, the novels revolve around a few people in a small town in Iowa named, Gilead. The plot moves along slowly though is more concerned about the inner workings and relations between the primary characters. Rev. John Ames, well into his old age, is concerned with imparting wisdom to his young son in Gilead. The Boughton family, close friends with Ames, and their family dynamic is explored in Home. And finally, Lila is told from the perspective of Lila as she first meets and marries Ames, much older than herself. In it, Lila thinks back to her upbringing as a drifter and despite being a largely uneducated woman, she thinks deeply.

Lila may come in as my favorite of the three. Something about the title character's simple yet profound take on life had a ring of familiarity despite her life situation being anything but similar to my own. She found it hard to commit to her husband, to be loved by others, to reconcile the depravity of the world with her husband's (a reverend!) belief in an all-loving God. The conversations between Lila and Rev. Ames are just perfect, giving room for doubt and questioning and graciousness for disagreement or, rather, differing perspectives.

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As alluded to in the first paragraph, there are a handful of themes and ideas written about oh so beautifully. Here were a few of many of my favorites...

On being married:

"Lila had no particular notion of what the word 'married' meant, except that there was an endless, pleasant joke between them that excluded everybody else and that all the rest of them were welcome to admire" (p. 75).

On considering loved ones who are not baptized:

"Like most people who lived on earth, she [Doll] did not believe and was not baptized. None of Doane's people were among the elect, so far as she knew, except herself, if she could believe it. Maybe their lives had gone on, and some revival preacher somewhere had taken them in hand. But Doll's life ended, and no one had rested his hand on her head, and no one had said a word to her about the waters of regeneration. If there was a stone on her grave, there was no name on it" (p. 97).

And on the movies:

"...at least she always had a movie to think about. And when she was sitting there in the dark, sometimes, when it was crowded, with somebody's arm or knee brushing against hers, she was dreaming some strangers' dream, everybody in there dreaming one dream together. Or they were ghosts all gathered in the dark, watching the world, seeing all the scheming and the murder and having no word to say about it, weeping with the orphans and having nothing to do for them. And then the dancing and the kissing, and all of the ghosts floating there just inches from a huge, beautiful face, to see the joy rise up in it. Like sparrows watching the sun come up, all of them happy at once, no matter that the light had nothing much to do with them" (p. 208).

Marilynne Robinson's Writing: "Home," etc.

I recently finished reading Home by Marilynne Robinson. This novel is also loosely tied to her Pulitzer-winning book, Gilead. I think I valued Gilead a bit more in that there's non-stop wisdom and heartache pouring from the protagonist's thought process. But Home created the better character interactions as showcased here between central-figure, Glory, and her tormented brother, Jack.

"She said, 'I don't care if you were in prison,' but the words cost her a little effort, and he heard it and smiled at her for a moment, studying her to be sure that she meant them.
He said, 'You're a good kid'" (p. 290).

I had a chance to see Robinson in a Q&A format at a conference last year and while I was a little lost on the content of the session (having not read any of her books at the time), I was struck with her sense of calm and patience. Regardless of the style and despite the lack of excitement factor, Robinson provides the kind of writing that contains a level of wisdom that's worth every minute of reading it.

Summer: A New Season

Summer has arrived. Well, for an RD, summer sorta comes on graduation weekend. Then, after another few weeks of office-y work, summer really comes. And then there's two sweet, sweet months of absolutely nothing. (Followed by two months of non-stop work... but we're not going there mentally quite yet.)

Back to the two months of nothing. I lied.

Jorje and I are going on a mini-vaca, belated anniversary trip. A night in Annapolis. A night in Lancaster. We live in PA. We're going to see what there is to see. This part is total chilling out, maxing, relaxing or coolin' or shooting some b-ball outside of school.

But then I head out on a Messiah sponsored, eight day Civil Rights Tour, tromping all over the South, meeting some legit figures from the movement and seeing, in person, the places (and subsequent museums) of some of the major events of the time. There'll be plenty more blogging on that subject.

All that to say. Busy first two weeks of summer.

On to the real point of summer (this blog). I feel lucky to be in a position where I can really (like, really) relax. I have plenty on the Netflix queue (House of Cards, Louie, Arrested Development, a few documentaries, etc.) and a slightly unrealistic reading list (the next few: Boyd's Repenting of Religion, MLK Jr.'s Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community, Robinson's Home) that I'm thankful I'll have some time in which to soak.

As I'll be gone three strewn weeks of the total summer eight, I didn't try to land a job. So I also hope to work on some project-y things and futilely do for Jorje as much as she does for me throughout the rest of the year. The hope is that we'll also have space to lounge and take day trips and go for walks on a normal basis.

And then there's the coming of the fall. I want to go into year number two a little more thoughtfully. I no longer have the "it's my first year" excuse when it comes to thrown-together-staff-times, etc.. But the hope is that some of the reading/watching/reflecting will eventually be beneficial for not only myself, but for the students with whom I work.

There you have it. The spring ended well (albeit, "busy"-feeling) and I'm so very grateful to be where I'm at. Apologies on the purely "update-blog" but I thought I'd mark the start of this season with my general feeling.

Here's to the cyclical nature of higher ed.