Book Review

I finished reading Sue Miller's latest, The World Below, last night. I have read other Miller books and enjoyed them - they typically are "just" about normal people leading normal lives, and she has a way of making the decisions they face interesting, so that she draws the reader in to feeling the emotions, and pondering the options, right along with the characters.


In this book, Miller tells two stories -- the primary story is about Cath who is a 52 year old woman trying to decide what to do with her life, and, as she comtemplates, she discovers the diaries of her grandmother, Georgia. We learn about the life Georgia led, two generations earlier, which was shaped by her choices and choices made by others in her life.


The interesting question for me as I read, though, was raised by a secondary character, a man in Cath's life, who (upon hearing that Cath has found Georgia's diaries) asks if diaries are written to be read.

Cath says no, diaries are private and intimate and are never written for anyone other than the author. The man counters by stating he believes all diarists write knowing that someday, someone (perhaps a child or grandchild) will read the diary - or else why would diarists not destroy their diaries before death? Personally, I used to keep very private and very intimate diaries, and I have, in fact, destroyed them. It was difficult to do, as I did enjoy going back and re-reading them, re-aquainting myself with the person I had been when I wrote them, but the thought of someone else reading them was sufficiently undesireable to make me decide to keep it from ever happening. There are times I regret it, but it's done.


Cath muses that today few people keep diaries but that if you collected e-mail (and, I thought, blogs) you would, in fact, have diaries of our lives.


When I write here, I am always very aware of my audience. Perhaps too aware, as I know it makes me edit my words carefully. I would say that this is not a diary for me, but I know others whose blogs are more diary-like. I admire that and aspire to it but right now it's just something I cannot do.


The book wasn't great, but it was enjoyable and thought-provoking. I recommend it, just not highly.