My Thoughts on The Mermaid Chair by Sue Monk Kidd

Mermaids, Monks and Missing fingers...

You've got a woman who paints mermaids and has to go back to her childhood home to try to figure out the reasoning and psyche of a mother who just chopped off her finger in a monestary kitchen, a reluctant monk who is hiding from himself and the world, sultry southern afternoons spent in a hidden rookery, along with goddess lore and ritual. Oh, and a puzzling plot centered around a dark childhood secret...all the makings of a perfect summer read. Who could want more, right?

To be perfectly honest, I probably would have picked this book up, glanced through it and put it back on the shelf, leaving it for some other person in an the Atlanta airport (ironic since the story is set in Atlanta, I know) searching for something interesting to read...if it hadn't been for the title and the beautiful cover. I'm a sucker for packaging, such a serious character flaw.

I would have missed out.

In The Mermaid Chair, Kidd takes us on such a vivid and wondrous journey through not only the swampy tides of Egret Island, but the deep and muddled tides of the soul as well. Intertwining goddess myth and ritual with mysteries of the heart, she unveils a story of self-realization and spirit rebirth that is easily identified with.

Visually, the novel is stunning. Teaming with images of hot, sultry afternoons spent paddling a skiff in a nature preserve where glorious birds abound and insects drone. You want the images to go on and on. You want to get lost in them, especially since they are the backdrop for a secret rendezvous (and by the way, you want to get lost in that too).

One could argue that this is nothing more than a step up from a sugary Harlequin, and there are some aspects of the plot that lend themselves to a formulaic plot of internal torment and subsequent seduction. But Kidd's descriptive narratives and soul searching passages elevate the story, make it something more touching and contemplative.

Those that would argue this is simply a beach read romance clearly are missing the very heart of the themes and symbols Kidd so bewitchingly weaves in. Mermaid goddesses, enthralling water rituals, the bonds of women, strained relationships between mothers and daughters, loss of identity, death and rebirth, water and it's associated fertility...it's all in there. Throw in the mystery plot of some dark deed once committed and you have a thought provoking read.

The Mermaid Chair takes us through one woman's version of having love, finding love and reconciling extremes. She captures the feeling all so perfectly in her passage, "I slid my hand away and felt my heart go. Like fingers turning loose of the side of a boat. Dropping through layers of water." So achingly painful, so agonizingly vivid.

Your Talkback on the Cell Phone Rant

Some caller commentary I've been getting that I thought you would enjoy.


Okay, can't help you with phone drama. I HATE cell phones, wireless phones, wall phones, etc. I fell out of love with them as soon as I got over that late teen hormonal imbalance that made me actually think boys dressed in sweaty gym clothes were hot....oh, they're hot all right.....but it just makes them smell and generate laundry for someone to have to wash....someone not THEM. I remember hours of listening to Mr. I'm-Going-To-Keep-You-Forever-by-Wearing-Your-Lettermans-
Jacket-through-the-High-School-Halls just BREATHE on the phone. Now? If Randy calls me and has nothing to say, my response isn't to breathe longingly back.....it's a curt "What the Hell????? Busy here! Do you have nothing to do???? I can find some things.....stop using up your minutes and only call if you NEED something......(dammit)" That last part is usually said AS I'm hanging up the phone, in a very hateful voice.....followed by a nice "idiot" once I'm sure the phone is off. NOW.....what I DO wish you had done with this BLOG, and I hope you will do, is direct my dear daughter to your comment about the pink hair. She insisted. I let her do the ends, about 4" worth, in hot pink....last Friday. Today? Not one week later? Day-glo orange with cotton candy pink highlights......you should have helped her out instead of reading that manual.

K.E.




I too bought the RAZR, thinking cool phone (although I dumped my Startec many moons ago) and got sucked into the same marketing tornado that Mist did. Of course as a Mom, all I need it for is to keep track of the kids (who by chance only text msg or totally ignore the Mom calls). Anyway, the kiddie GPS theory is totally a smoke dream from some executive sitting in an office in prob Basking Ridge thinking "parents will love this". WELL NOT. Kids just do not pick up phones. Anyway back to the RAZR - my VCAST mobile is draining my battery to nothing while losing connections before I can even get a second of video clip or music. I thought maybe I would check the weather and after getting a connection and seeing the weather.com commentator BAMB - lost connection. So I am better off turning on Channel 2 for the latest (or looking out the window as i am often desparate). I have another 26 days to decide if I want to keep the RAZR and my vote is NO. Those cheap Motorola phones that you can drop and keep working seem to be the way to go. Mist - we need to unite and kill the RAZR.

t.




And my response...

Ahh yes, Basking Ridge, the land of Not-Quite-Right Ideas dreamed up by our valiant leaders. Being a 38 yr old kid who doesn't pick up the phone myself, I see where the concept needs tweaking. But they never listen to us anyway-no one paid attention to my Telecommuter DSL bundle product idea either...and it could bring in actual REVENUE (Staff call "r-poo", hahahha).

Anyway, as for the indestructible part, it never dawned on me that my cell phone would be a toddler's favorite action-packed toy. But we moms are not the only ones who need phones made of recycled rubber tractor tires. I stopped to chat with my neighbor yesterday morning as he was picking his cell phone up from the ground and putting the pieces back together. I asked him if his phone had been doing double duty as an air hammer (he owns a consrtuction biz). Of course, this set him off on his own cell phone rant about having to buy 5 of the stupid things in the last year.

We're such easy marks for a cool ad blitz.

Oh, and since I ordered mine from the VZ eweb...I don't have your 30 day return luxury. I can hear them somewhere in VZ Wireless chanting "haha, you're stuck with us, you're stuck with us, nanny nanny boo boo".

Coup de Chef Mark!

"AUDIENCE APPLAUSE!"

Kudos go out to Chef Mark, my one and only sib, for happenings in his culinary career. He has recently been appointed the Executive Chef at the cool and quirky So Restaurant and Bar in Little Rock. It's the newest and most happening hip eatery in the city and it's getting witty, rave reviews from restaurant critics and discerning foodies alike.

I, myself have had the good fortune to have the So experience twice- both late night and late lunch. The service is truly friendly, the interior a serene Tuscan-zen sort of haven, and the food...well the food is delish. So's signature Chocolate Sack is the only dessert that you'll ever enjoy where the waiter will be trying to wrench the plate from your clutched fingers as you beg on your knees for more. The entree's are elegantly yummy. And, best of all, you won't have to take a trip to Carnegie Deli in New York to experience to-die-for cheesy creaminess (or mastermind the management of their famous 2lb. pastrami sandwich). So's own cheesecake is a trip to the Big Apple right at your table. Pinky swear! I've had both tastes of heaven and they are parallel cheesecake universes.

But if you don't believe an amateur like me, who also luckily happens to be the Executive Chef's only sib, who possibly could be a tad bit biased, you can Siskel and Ebert it for yourself. SPORK REPORT

Me, My Cell Phone and I

This photo epitomizes the love hate relationship that's evolving between me and my new VZ Motorola RAZR. Although, I'm sure relationships with inanimate objects are probably something my shrink would consider regression as opposed to pro-gression, I'm being sucked deeper and deeper into this co-dependent downward spiral. And given the fact that wooing the RAZR required considerable outlay on my part, I doubt I'll be dumping it soon, even if it refuses to put out.

As you can clearly see, the camera just plain sucks. This is a nightshot in front of the Bellagio and, of course, nightshots in general are very often sucky...but...the dayshots aren't much better, all wiggly and looking like someone snapped them after a Dunkin Donuts spree, gulping down all nine delicious turbo-hot coffee flavors. Of course, I have considered the fact that the Camera Suckiness Factor 10 could be due to user error, but if on the slight off-chance that it actually would be due to user error, then the user error would in turn be due to the War and Peace sized tome of a user manual that came with the thing (in my world all user error potentialities come with indemnification clauses). It took three days for me to assimilate the whole "answer the phone" process flow.

And since we've brought up the subject of answering the phone, that's what got me sucked into this dysfunctional relationship in the first place. It's silly to say that answering the phone is not one of my favorite activities when the truth of the matter is it's NOT ONE OF MY FAVORITE ACTIVITIES. This isn't my fault though, you can't condemn me without taking into consideration the fact that I'm duct-taped to my desk chair all day five days of the work week with my headset duct-taped to my head, forced to BE ON THE PHONE.

I thought that if I got myself a new cell phone it would cause an immediate attitude adjustment, a total quick fix, you know. A cool new cell phone. Like the coolest out there right now. I figured at least part of my phone phobia was due to the fact that I'd been carrying around the same Motorola StarTac for the last five years. Yes, five years. Plus, I so wanted the pink metallic RAZR, like...bad. Like when I was in college and like wanted pink stuff like a pink '67 mustang and like pink bedroom furniture and totally like pink hair (which never worked since being brunette, bleaching my hair to dye it pink only results in day-glo orange).

But I didn't get the pink metallic one 'cause VZ Wireless was in-between limited edition pink metallic phone offers, and now I have a serious case of phone envy because my girlfriend just got the last one in stock on the first day of the new promo. I'm busy hating her pretty little pink RAZR. If I can't have it NO one can have it! I just know I'd be on it all day long answering calls from the worthy, the semi-worthy and even the unworthy.

I'm tempted to get some of those cool little sparkly sticky things and make myself a design out of pink sparklies. But every time I go to Best Buy and try to purchase some I get all panicky and shaky and can't actually bend over and slide the little package off of it's metal bar home. Committment issues. Having my RAZR and living with my RAZR is one thing, giving it my heart and soul, imbuing it with my creative essence...I'm not sure I can go that far. I'm not really the glamour ghetto fab type anyway...Gwen Stephanie and Queen Latifia have that look cornered, I'd never meet those sorts of expectations. Besides, I doubt it would go over very well as a corporate fashion statement the next time I'm in a meeting with the grumpy ole VZ execs. They might be the Devil but they certainly don't wear Prada.

Happy Birthday oBLOG!

This is the birth of about the one hundred million billionth weblog. I suddenly feel so amazingly unique!