When I was growing up, I had a combative relationship with the one grandparent who was present in my life, my maternal grandmother. (The other three grandparents died quite young.) I don’t really know why, but we didn’t get along until after I’d gotten through the worst of the hormonal years. Maybe it’s because we were too alike in some ways. As I got older I grew to appreciate her rock-solidness, her work ethic, and her devotion to family. She was like a second mother to me and my eleven siblings. Her parents immigrated to New Jersey from Poland. She was born in Ramapo, NY, and later moved to Chicago and married another Pole. Although she Americanized her last name (eliminating lots of consecutive consonants), she continued to speak Polish with my mother and made Polish sausage that was second to none. The other half of my genetic make-up is Irish, and I have an unmistakably Irish first and last name. It’s a bit ironic when people joke about it when they hear my name (“Gee, are you Irish?!?”) because I have always identified more with my Polish heritage. I always point out that I am half-Polish when the subject comes up.
I first had a kind of awakening of the Irish spirit in me when I read Pat O’Shea’s The Hounds of the Morriganas an adult. I had read other contemporary Irish writers (Frank McCourt, Nuala O’Faolain, Betty Smith) and saw traits in some of their characters that I recognized in the male members of my family, but really, theirs were just good books in a long list of good books I’d read. The Hounds of the Morrigan, on the other hand, stood out as magical, and it opened a window on to a cultural past I wanted to be connected to. This Ireland was a mysterious place that had some innocence—no famines, no sectarian violence, just two utterly charming children setting out on a quest to save the world they knew from the wicked tripartite goddess Morrigan and the evil serpent Olc-Glas. It was easy to get totally absorbed in it, and I remember laughing out loud in places. An especially hilarious passage describes an encounter between Bridget and Pidge, the two young protagonists, and a reluctant watch-frog. This is a book that stays on my “keep forever” shelf.
Have you stumbled on any books that unexpectedly struck a chord with you and your cultural identity? Or, to probe a little deeper, with your spirituality?
Welcome to the inaugural post of Pocket Garden.
First of all, the name: It comes from the Chinese proverb A book is like a garden carried in the pocket. Need I say more?
This blog is for readers who like to share opinions about what they’re reading (or not reading, and why not), get reading suggestions, talk about the art of writing, and wax poetic about reading in general. My thinking at this point is to highlight a different book in each post. I haven’t chosen a first book yet, though, so to get this off the ground, I’d like to start by throwing out a GIANT idea.
I am a little embarrassed to say that this topic was inspired by the book...er...Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. In general, I am not a fan of fantasy. I don’t have a lot of patience with magic in books, which always seems haphazard in its effectiveness. However, I do like the references to myths and legends in Rowling’s series, and the audio versions make for good listening on long car trips. I was listening to Order of the Phoenix on one recent interminable drive, and there is a segment in which Hagrid and Madame Maxime, two half-giant/half-humans, venture into the land of giants to try to persuade them to join in the fight against the Dark Lord. It put me in mind of the D’Aulaire’s beautiful Book of Norse Myths, which I didn’t discover until I was an adult. That, in turn, led to the memory of the first time Thor made an impression on me, thanks to Douglas Adams’ The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul. Inserting a Norse god into modern life was a captivating idea. There’s something about those big buffoons I can relate to, somehow. Maybe it has to do with being tall and clumsy and occasionally cranky.
So when did the giants die out? There are giants in the Bible, in mythology originating in many cultures (Greek, Roman, Norse, Jewish), and, of course, in fairy tales. Has anyone in recent centuries besides Douglas Adams (and fantasy writers) been brave enough to play with the idea that giants are still among us? A book called The Giant’s House: A Romance by Elizabeth McCracken came out in 1996. I recall that it had a librarian as a main character, so it seems like required reading for me, but I never did read it. How about you? It’s now high on my to-read list, and I think it’s time I re-read The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul.
Have you found that anything from the myths and legends you are familiar with to have stuck with you through the years?
Books mentioned in this post:
- Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling more info
- The Giant's House: A Romance by Elizabeth McCracken more info
- The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul by Douglas Adams more info
- D'Aulaire's Book of Norse Myths by Ingri and Edgar Parin D'Aulaire more info
