Sisterhood

When I think about “sisterhood” in a feminist context, my thoughts wander back to some imagined 1970s wymmin’s collective that lived out their politics in group housing and (over-)processed everything trying to make sure that everyone’s voice was heard; oh, and of course I think about the women of color who were always part of the sisterhood, but at times not recognized as such. In a familial context, having had only brothers, sisterhood never made much sense to me. When it comes to friends, I certainly have had women as close friends that feel as dear to me (if not dearer) than family, but it’s never occurred to me to think of these people as sisters.

I don’t know if any of these things have to do with how much I’ve enjoyed Ann Brashares’ series Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, but I do know that with each of the four books in the series, I’ve felt deeply touched.

The latest in the series, Forever in Blue, once again took me on an emotional journey. Brashares has a way of writing that makes her characters come alive, and better yet, come alive in relationship to one another.

Interestingly, or perhaps tellingly, I seem to love best the books that depict strong relationships between the characters. In life I’m such a loner some times, I guess it does make sense that I have the opposite taste for the lives I like to read about.

Those who can’t do teach? Those who fear to do read?

While I’d love to continue to read about the journeys of Bee, Carmen, Lena, and Tibby, it seems quite certain that this fourth book is the series’ last. In that sense, the arc of this novel was different from the previous ones, and necessarily so. In some ways the pace of the book was slower…but that’s to be expected when things are coming together to end I guess. Nevertheless, the individual development that each character brings us along for is as touching as ever; maybe even more precious than before because of the complex struggles that each faces, and the ever growing physical distance between them all.

Forever in Blue was just one of my recent book buys for my Spring Break. Coincidentally(?) another of those books includes The End of the Lemony Snicket series featuring the Baudelaires. It seems as if I’ve unwittingly started my spring with endings…

And soon to come is J.K. Rowling’s end to the Harry Potter series. I’m excited to read the next installment, but also trying to avoid the series’ end enough that I haven’t pre-ordered my copy just yet.

I guess this Spring I’m supposed to learn to better deal with endings, whether I like it or not!

Brashares, Ann. Forever in Blue: The Fourth Summer of the Sisterhood. New York: Delacorte Press, 2007.

(17) Sometimes you hung up the phone and felt the bruising of your heart. It hurt now and it would hurt more later. The conversation was too unsatisfying to continue and yet you couldn’t stand for it to end.

(41) Lena didn’t feel lonely easily. Somehow, knowing she had friends was enough to keep her happy. She didn’t actually have to talk with them or see them all the time. It was like other things: So long as she had an aspirin in the cabinet, she didn’t really need to take one. So long as the toilet was readily available, she could wait until the last second to use it. As long as the basic resources existed for her, her needs were small.

(43-44) Desire was just the dumbest thing. You wanted what you wanted until it was yours. Then you didn’t want it anymore. You took what you had for granted until it was no [end page 43] longer yours. That, it seemed to her, was one of the crueler paradoxes of human nature.

(100) She looked at her painting in a new way. At first she was so disgusted by it, she could barely look at all. But then she settled down. She tried to relax and see better and deeper than she had before. She felt like a track runner who was pushing herself to break a five-minute mile only to have somebody tell her it could be done in four. If it could be done, then she had to reframe her sense of possibilities. She had to at least try.

(161) In some ways it had been easier not wanting it. But the wanting felt good. Even if she didn’t get it. Wanting was what made you a person, and she was glad to feel like a person again.

(244) When you remembered to forget, you were remembering. It was when you forgot to forget that you forgot.

(258) “You shall know the truth and the truth shall make you mad.” –Aldous Huxley

(273) Love was an idea. Northing more or less. If you lost the idea, if you somehow forgot it, then person you loved became a stranger. Tibby thought of all those movies about amnesiacs where they don’t even know their own spouse. Love lives in the memory. It can be forgotten. But it can also be remembered.

(307) It was so hard to live the right kind of life, even if you knew what it was.

(379) Rather, Carmen had felt an ever-growing awe at the wisdom of the Pants for knowing how to bring them together. For knowing that absence is sometimes more powerful than presence.