And it came to pass I had had enough. All I wanted was to be transported far, far away–I didn’t even care where–just to be relieved of the drudgery of my life.
My children were perfectly loveable and ages two and four. My husband had been out to sea on a submarine for a very long time; I did not know when I’d see him again. Everything in our old, saggy house was broken–even the telephone–and I lacked the skills to repair anything. My family lived 3500 miles away.
We lived on a plot of land high on a granite slab carved out of a military installation and we had no neighbors. At 29, I was the “senior” wife on our submarine–because all the wives who “outranked” me had fled to different lives. I felt that I had to hold it all together and be strong for the “junior” wives.
But I was going to pieces.
I remember the fall day I let go and drifted off. Piles of vivid red, gold and dull brown leaves needed to be raked in our Connecticut yard. Pumpkins and carrots needed to be plucked from the garden. Diapers needed to be changed, clothes washed, bills paid.
I just couldn’t do it anymore.
So I checked out for a couple days.
Physically, I stayed home tending the boys. I fed them, clothed them and watched them–sort of. But mentally and emotionally I was gone. I didn’t read to them. Didn’t play with them, or even pray with them. I just existed in a place in my head and went through the motions of motherhood.
I felt guilty. But I couldn’t help myself anymore.
For what it was worth, I found my partner in a book–a big, fat, sprawling story of 14th century Norway called Kristin Lavransdatter. The 1936 “Nobel Prize edition” I read was over 1000 pages long and contained three different books: The Bridal Wreath, The Mistress of Husaby and The Cross. It was translated from the Norwegian by Charles Archer and J.S. Scott.
I’d checked the book out of the Groton Public Library because I’d seen fancy versions of it in paper catalogues about great books. It had won the author, Sigrid Undset, the 1940 Nobel Prize for Literature.
I didn’t know anything about Undset when I read her book in two days, sitting on the rock wall outside while my children played in the fall sunshine all those years ago. A strong, intelligent woman whose circumstances had taken her to places she didn’t want to go, Undset poured herself into her books, even as she raised her three children in an isolated house in Norway–their father long departed.
Kristin Lavransdatter is not an easy read even now. A medieval story of love, adultery, passion, fury and even motherhood, it took me out of my personal circumstances for a needed time. While not exactly giving me an alternate life to live (adultery makes me squirm), it helped me deal with the life I was living in an isolated spot.
Good literature can do that for you.
While the children frolicked outdoors until their cheeks turned red and then came inside to watch Mister Rogers before eating hot dogs for dinner, I poured through the emotions of abandonment, love, hope and commitment to someone outside of me.
The final book tells it all: The Cross.
And we all know who went to the cross.
The lover of my soul, the one who not only knew my circumstances but fashioned them for me; the God who cared enough for a lonely, hurting woman to give her two days of fall sunshine for the children to play outside. The same God who provided healthy children to love me even when I couldn’t bear to hug them, He was there on those two days while I consumed a novel of ancient times that reflected my feelings on those days.
I checked out with Kristin Lavransdatter, but God checked over me.
I finished the book late the second night and awoke the next morning with the heaviness lifted. I cooked pancakes for breakfast, took the boys to the library where we checked out brightly colored picture books to read together. I prayed for them, and for me, and for my husband still not home from sea.
The days grew shorter, the nights colder and one day he returned to make our family whole again–for at least a little while.
I’ve never touched Kristin Lavransdatter again. I’m surprised now to learn it carried controversial themes. It just reminds me of a time when I needed to be transported away and that thick book did the trick.
Have any books taken you far from dismal circumstances? How, why, and what were they?
Thoughts? Reactions? Lurker?