Book Review: Solace in So Many Words
Solace in So Many Words. Edited by Ellen Wade Beals. Weighed Words, LLC, Glenview, IL, 2011, Trade Paperback, 216 pages.
Reviewed by Cronin Detzz.
Solace in So Many Words is an eclectic, crisp, and well-edited compilation of essays and poems. The book is arranged alphabetically by author’s last name. In the introduction, the editor reminds the reader about tragedies America has endured during the past decade, from 9/11 to Hurricane Katrina. Spurned by empathy, the editor wrote to the Chicago newspapers. She never heard back. Undeterred, she took out an ad in Poets & Writers and this collection was born.
Solace brings to mind comfort and peace in troubled times, but this collection spans more than this singular theme. Some of the works in the book don’t seem to relate directly to solace, so it takes a little imagination to connect the dots. This was a bit confusing to me.
However, this is the beauty in the subjectivity of art; what one writer sees as solace may differ from another writer’s view. For instance, if a reader has a loved one languishing in a nursing home, Alternative Eulogy by Carol Kanter on p. 95 will resonate: “No more yelling at her / to use her hearing aid so she sounds / as with it as she is.” Antler’s poem, First Breath Last Breath on p. 15 provides great imagery on the first breath that a newborn son shares with his mother, and the last breath they share when she dies.
As with most great anthologies, there are references to nature: October gardens, March winds, April rains, strolling on the Appalachian Trail to hunt for frogs, farmer’s market flowers. Several poems reference birds. Laura Rodley’s poem Addicted, p. 166, explains that her solace lies in her addiction to dogs and horses: “My horses are my opium, my anisette, my cheroot, my cinnamon sugar, my firm footstep on the ground, my bottle of vodka, my whiskey.” At some point, we all find solace in nature.
There are undercurrents of higher ideals like hope, endurance, religion, and love. Hopes Rise by T.C. Boyle, p. 38-49, is an odd story of a man who goes to a conference and learns that species of frogs are dying. By the end of the story, his girlfriend gives him hope that some frogs or other new species may exist so they take a nature hike.
The theme of endurance is evident in Fighting Inertia by Susan O’Donnell Mahan, p. 134: “I do not have the strength / to go on without you, / but let me go forth.” Tekla Dennison Miller’s essay, A Caring Place, p. 151-153, tells the autobiographical tale of a physically fit skier who is diagnosed with a rare nerve condition and has to learn to walk. Through her endurance, she finds a group of women that offer mutual support. She writes, “I believe our lives are enriched by a circle of caring friends who help us make sense of the world’s madness.”
Chicagoans will delight in the fact that there are references to streets we call home, the Loop, and even a quote from His Holiness, Mike Ditka. I guess there is solace in humor, too.