A collection of essays on women and aging from Canadian legend Sharon Butala
"What I didn't have a clue about was that I was soon to be old, or what being old would mean to my dreams and desires. While dreading old age with every fibre, I was at the same time in full denial that it would ever happen to me, and so, was shocked down to the soles of my feet when it did."
In this incisive collection, Sharon Butala reflects on the ways her life has changed as she's grown old. She knows that society fails the elderly massively, and so she tackles ageism and loneliness, friendship and companionship. She writes with pointed wit and acerbic humour about dinner parties and health challenges and forgetfulness and complicated family relationships and the pandemic -- and lettuce. And she tells her story with the tremendous skill and beauty of a writer who has masterfully honed her craft over the course of her storied four-decade career.
Butala gives us a book to be cherished -- an elegant and expansive look at the complexities and desires of aging and the aged, standing in stark contrast to the stereotyped, simplistic portrayals of the elderly in our culture. This Strange Visible Air is a true gift.
Sharon Butala (born Sharon Annette LeBlanc, August 24, 1940 in Nipawin, Saskatchewan) is a Canadian writer and novelist.
Her first book, Country of the Heart, was published in 1984 and won the Books in Canada First Novel Award.
As head of the Eastend Arts Council she spearheaded the creation of the Wallace Stegner House Residence for Artists in which Wallace Stegner's childhood home was turned into a retreat for writers and artists.[14]
She lived in Eastend until Peter's death in 2007. She now lives in Calgary, Alberta.
She was shortlisted for the Governor General's award twice, once for fiction for Queen of the Headaches, and once for nonfiction for The Perfection of the Morning.
The Fall 2012 issue of Prairie Fire, entitled The Visionary Art of Sharon Butala was dedicated to Butala and her work and influence.
The subtitle of Sharon Butala’s latest book This Strange Visible Air is: Essays on Aging and the Writing Life. Maybe it’s because I’m keenly aware that my forties are now in my sights, or maybe it’s because I recently discovered I may have trouble digesting gluten and the thought of a life stretched out before me without a donut leaves me depressed, but a book of essays about aging seemed like the perfect read for me at this moment. I’m an out and proud fan of Butala’s work, I reviewed one of her books for a magazine a few years ago, so I knew to expect a well-written and thoughtful collection.
Book Summary
There are 15 essays in total, most of them thoughts and musings on Butala’s life as an 80-year-old woman living in Calgary, widowed and divorced, but still actively writing. They aren’t in any particular order, other than the last essays which is a short observation of the pandemic as it unfolds, clearly written at the very beginning when vaccines were only a distant hope for the future. As the title of the book suggests, the dominate theme is aging, and this thread can be found in every single piece, sometimes overcrowding any other observations, or simply a background fact while other situations take precedence. She writes of her past lives, that of a rancher’s wife, and an aspiring novelist before she had her first book published. One story focuses on a relative of hers with a severe drug dependency, an addiction that led her to push all family members away, and Butala’s fear of accepting her into her life again. Many stories touch upon the practical, including the smell of gas in her apartment that she tried to ignore before finally accepting contractors into her home to fix the issue.
My Thoughts
Many of the situations she describes I can easily imagine in my future, because based on statistics alone, I am likely to outlive my husband by a significant number of years. Butala’s writing and her community of fellow writers is what seems to keep her busy and connected with others – she frequently refers to book launches, events, and readings she’s attended here in the city, holding that flimsy cup of wine that seem to be a prerequisite for those types of things. Before the pandemic (and now a bit recently) I’ve also been at those events, in fact I’ve seen Butala at those events because we both live in Calgary, and she’s always surrounded by friends and fans, so she’s most definitely lifted up by our tight-knit writing community here.
Her thoughts are relatable for many other reasons, one of them being her reluctance to ‘bother’ other people when feeling lonely, sick, or in need of assistance – haven’t we all felt that way at one point or another, especially when living alone? Despite our age difference, I found much to understand and sympathize with in this collection.
Butala’s experience taking the LRT in Calgary for instance, was an interesting one to read about, as I used to take public transit on a daily basis until I became pregnant with my first child. Now that ridership has dropped in Calgary following the pandemic, there is a major problem of people doing drugs openly on the train because they have no where else to go, and they are assured a bystander will likely witness and request help should an overdose happen. As I read Butala’s own story of riding the train before the pandemic I wondered if she was still taking it now as many have deemed it too dangerous, but she comes across as the type of senior that doesn’t avoid things out of fear – she is much too practical for that.
She has a great sense of humour that shines through the page in “Lettuce or Things I Can’t Do Now That I’m Old”, but where she really excels in this collection is her descriptions of how friendship has shifted and changed throughout her life, with female friendships being her main source of connection:
“Now I need companionship, serious conversations about life, a willingness to talk about our own less-than-stellar futures, someone with whom to share interests such as literature and the other arts, and a strong sense of mutual empathy whether we talk about it or not. My friends and I struggle determinedly not only to keep ourselves occupied doing interesting and enjoyable things, but to help each other in this.
-p. 78 of “A Life in Friends” from This Strange Visible Air by Sharon Butala It may not a be a glamorous life, but it’s a life of comfort and companionship that one can look forward to nonetheless.
It so nice to see Sharon Butala’s name back on a list. She’s a CANLIT superstar. Sharon is writing about how her life has changed as she grows old. She’s now a single woman, or widow, living in Calgary after spending more than thirty years as a rancher’s wife in an isolated rural area of Saskatchewan. She’s pretty much starting over and what she discovers will resonate with many men and women of her age. How elder folk become invisible to the general public. Sharon tackles and addresses ageism and loneliness, friendship, and companionship, and of course, health issues and memory in this collection of essays.
The first half of the book made me want to call my grandma as it illuminated the feelings and thoughts she may be experiencing at this point in her life. I couldn’t even begin to understand the loneliness that accompanies aging but I think I have a better idea now.
Essays that stood out to me in this collection include: “Against Ageism”, “Cold Ankles”, “A Life in Friends”, “Lettuce or Things I Can’t Do Now That I’m Old”, and “Doing The Right Thing”.
Sharon Butala writes honestly about the downsides of aging, something I haven't seen a lot of. So while not an encouraging read for someone on the brink of 70 (I'm 10 years younger that SB), I appreciated her perspective. Her essay about her relationship with a self-destructive young relative I found quite moving.
I’ve always enjoyed Butala’s writing style, but this series of non-fiction essays made me feel a bit down-in-the-mouth. Perhaps a symptom of the times in which we live. (And the fact that I too have recently become a senior.)
Still worth a read, even if the last essay on Covid 19 written in May of 2020 is of course already outdated.
Not quite what I was expecting, but an enjoyable and worthwhile read nonetheless. (This is more a book about aging and less a book about writing, or about being a writer who is growing older.) Not all of the essays resonated with me, but one of the ones that did was spectacular ("A Life in Friends"). I also really appreciated the author's honesty and willingness to engage in deep and often very personal self-reflection (particularly in the essay "Doing the Right Thing"). All in all a beautiful book.
While some of the essays in this collection resonated more for me than others, there was a lot of evocative imagery and substantive food for thought throughout. Very interesting reading.
What a unique experience this book was! This Strange Visible Air By Sharon Butala
This is an experience on the reflection of aging, told in a beautifully way. This book really resonated with me at this time in my life, where I am trying to embrace change that comes with age. My favourite chapter was titled “Inglorious on the LRT”. It was awesome to hear her write about local spots, and made this book so much more personal because of it.
This book was excellent and a must read for anyone who is also reflecting on change in their life.
Deep reflections on the lingering questions of a meaningful life, this collection of essays takes the reader on a journey of self-discovery enriched by the wider view. It was like a soulful conversation with a slightly more experienced friend. At sixty-three, soon I might have a similarly wide view, if I am lucky. The value of friendship, the ambition of a writer and the real reason we write, the pure beautiful natural world... each essay is so packed with powerful questions and honest glimpses of insight, I could only read one every few days. Highly recommended.
This is the first of Sharon Butala’s books that I’ve read and I felt that my appreciation for it might have been greater had I read some of her earlier work. There’s the presumption of knowledge. While I appreciated some of the author’s observations and musings on aging and the writing life, this collection of essays never really got off the ground for me.
An interesting little collection of essays, but despite that she is a favoured author of mine, and that the subject matter was more than a little topical - as I myself turn 60 this year - this just didn’t grab me. In fairness… that might be more to do with my life at this moment than this title...
There are some stars among the essays, and some that connected a little less with me, although perhaps because they are more warnings of the impending challenges as we age, and mine is getting closer. I have always enjoyed Butala's writing, and this book follows well her two previous books: "Where I Live Now", and "Season of Fury & Wonder". Many of them are quite poignant, particularly the one about her niece who struggled with mental health issues, and with whom Butala struggled to help, to the point of self-preservation. As she acknowledges, she is not unique in this country with the stories, and she well illustrates the personal and societal burden of mental illness on both the person involved, and on their families.
This book was a bit of a downer, for me. I didn't find many of the insights or "lyric grace" that the back cover blurbs advertised. Rather, the prose was often plodding and the societal observations rather obvious.
I’m happy to read this collection of stories I would say & Canadian author who I would love to include in my diverse read. A story about a woman understanding a life of being by herself & the facets of aging. A good read.
The first book I have read by this Canadian author. It definitely will not be the last of her works I read. Her writings speak to me as a person living on the Canadian prairies, as a woman, as a would-be writer, and especially as someone with the acquired wisdom obtained over six decades of life.
A book of essays, some resonated more than others but all were interesting and beautifully written. When I finished I thought, I wish Butala wrote a weekly blog.
Interesting to read this author’s different works throughout life stages. I haven’t read very many authors sharing so honestly about this particular stage. Really appreciated.
I continue to enjoy Butala's writing, especially her stories of her life as a writer. Her writing process and what she chooses to write about intrigues me. I also enjoyed her description of her life illustrated by her friendships. Different eras resulted in distinct kinds of friends.
I really enjoyed this collection of essays looking at aging and writing, and looking back at how Butala sees her growth. I look forward to reading more by Butala, she has been on my list forever.