My aunt is a renowned doctor living in Memphis. She was one of the first women breast surgeons and her and her husband founded the Mroz-Baier clinic for breast cancer in Memphis. They are innovators and have made great strides towards the cure of breast cancer. I have a box full of newspaper clippings and pictures of them with prominent people like President Clinton and Barbara Bush. My Aunt is someone who I look up to and admire greatly.
So when she sent this book to me, and told me she had read it several times and it was one of her favorites, I had to give it a try. Labeled Chick Lit(I hate that name, it makes it sound sappy), my stack of Elizabeth Berg books was ever growing, but still unread. I knew she had to have some merit, no one writes that many books and doesn't have some sort of impact, but again, they looked like typical woman's literature, and I hesitated. So my Aunt sending me one, finally made me pick one up.
Now my Aunt belongs to my Dad's family, the side that grew up on my Grandfather's farm. Stoic, hardworking, and not very open about their thoughts or feelings, sometimes it's hard to get a read on them. This book opened up a whole new world of wonder about my Aunt, and as I sat underlining or highlighting every other word, I hoped that someday my thoughts written in this dusty little paperwork, would open up a whole new world of insight to my children who might read it.
I had a boss once who was talking about why he chose a particular book as his favorite. He said it wasn't the deepest book out there, but it spoke to him, and described very well the thoughts he sometimes had. That's how I feel about Pull of the Moon. Berg has a simple way to describe what this woman, Nan, is feeling as she takes off from her everyday life, for a road trip and to "find" herself. A monotonous marriage and the fear of getting older is what drives her, but she learns so much more about herself than she knew. From meeting new people, and attempting new experiences, to trying to get over her fear of the dark by sleeping in the forest alone at night, she pushes the boundaries of the rules she's lived the last 50 years by. About her marriage...
"...you'll see the small lines starting in each other's faces, and though your hands may be in your laps they will also be reaching out to touch those lines with a tenderness you weren't sure was in you. You'll think, Oh well, all right. You'll have come to a certain kind of appreciation that moves beyond all the definitions of love you've ever had."
And in writing a letter to her husband...
"I try to cast my thoughts out, meaning to share all of them with you, Martin, and then slowly pull the line back in, your not having seen much at all. You stop listening so I seize up, or I seize up so you stop listening, I'm not sure..."
Before I got married, we were required to go to a sort of marriage counseling with the pastor who would be doing our ceremony. I remember him and his wife sitting there, talking to us and saying, as he smiled gently at his wife, "I kind of see marriage as two rocks with a lot of rough edges. You bang against each other over and over and eventually the edges are smoothed out." I think the above two passages of Berg's describes this perfectly. I feel like I'm fluctuating between the "Why won't you listen to me more?" and the "Oh well, all right."
Berg also touches upon the sweet bitterness of getting older, the body that doesn't seem her own anymore, and the woman who doesn't care so much anymore what people think so she can get away with more. On life's regrets she writes...
"I am so often struck by what we do not do..."
And when talking about her feelings and running away from them...
"Today I woke up and felt the old pull of sadness back. It's like a robe that is too heavy, weighing down my shoulders, dragging up dirt as it follows along behind me. This was disappointing. I thought I'd escaped something."
Berg creates a feeling and atmosphere in her book that is both concise and general at the same time. The epistolary format was a brilliant move, because it makes us feel like Nan is our friend, just another woman trying to understand her life. There is something in this book for all women. I can't imagine there's a woman out there that can't relate to at least a little of what Nan is experiencing.
I loved this book. Perhaps it's because I'm coming up on 40 and am starting to feel it or maybe it's because this September I celebrate my ten year anniversary with my husband, I'm not sure. But this book really touched me and for now, it's become one of my favorites. Not a classic by any means, but an enjoyable read, especially for a women who feels alone, to know there are many other women out there that have the same thoughts.