I come from a long line of optimists. My great-grandfather was a card-carrying utopian-socialist. (I have his card.) His daughter, my grandmother, was a Christian Scientist. My other grandmother believed in Norman Vincent Peale’s “Power of Positive Thinking.” You see, the art and habit of re-framing obstacles and looking on the bright side are in my DNA. Couple that with a rather Ozzie and Harriet childhood in the fifties and sixties, and you get relentlessly (doggedly, stubbornly) optimistic me.
Author Anne Lamott’s life and lineage were different (read: dysfunctional, self-destructive, a little crazy) and everything about her reflects that. Even so, she attempts to find grace no matter what life throws at her. Like most of us, she fails sometimes. This collection of essays demonstrates her struggle armed with her faith and intelligence as well as her sometimes dark and self-effacing humor. She is also that rarest of creatures (if we are to believe the media) a flaming liberal and a churchgoing, Jesus-loving Christian. Oh, and she swears a bit, too.
Small Victories starts with a critique of the Bible, saying what’s missing is a “Book of Welcome.” Come in, come in! It should say. God loves you! In her opinion, there’s way too much judgment and not enough hugs. Not nearly enough unconditional love, acceptance, and yes, forgiveness.
This collection also deals with grief. A lot. It seems someone is always dying. Family, friends, a beloved old dog. Life’s like that. To cope, Lamott takes long walks in the woods, prays, and attends church. She marches in peace rallies. She remains sober, binges on M&Ms, and tries online dating. She does all this while attempting to make her injured, angry little human heart forgive the people who have hurt or disappointed her. A few relatives and ex-Presidents are on her list. She reminds herself that if she–as imperfect as she is–is precious to God, then others–as imperfect as they obviously are–must be precious as well. Good stuff.
A few quotes:
“Forgiveness is the hardest work we do.”
“They say we are punished not for the sin but by the sin, and I began to feel punished by my unwillingness to forgive.”
“I thought such awful thoughts that I cannot even say them out loud because they would make Jesus want to drink gin straight out of the cat dish.”
Several members of my precious extended family–who run the gamut of religious and political persuasions, bless their hearts–agreed to read this as the first book in an online cousins’ book club. I think it was a good choice.
What should we read next?