It’s been four or five years since I’ve read housekeeping. I remember being captivated by the language early on in the description of the grandparents.

A novel places you up close to any individual. It’s easy to find yourself sympathizing with and admiring someone who in real life would be the object of your instant judgment and derision. Of course this often goes unnoticed, but it’s not to hard to see the contradiction in Sylvie. Wouldn’t you rush to rescue an innocent young girl from a neglectful, unpredictable and strange woman? And although her natural existence is magnetically poetic, in real life I could never live that way–I have to engage the human race, but maybe, maybe she’s hit on something important that I’m missing.

So who’s got it more right, the scoffing kids in the ice cream store or the self-absorbed woman eating dinner in the dark? Everything I read calls on me, challenges me with the question of how to respond existentially. A few times while reading this novel I went outside in late fall without a jacket and tried to let my chilled sensation dissipate, tried to be one with my surroundings. It’s like trying to be still, serene, unaffected while flies and mosquitoes buzz about and help themselves to your lifeblood. It’s a life for the very few but it doubtlessly holds hidden treasures for those who can break through.

Happy meandering.

I did like the book. I wrote down on a scrap of paper only one thing because it jumped off the page for me. That was … “my life seemed composed of expectation … and so the ordinary demanded unblinking attention.” This summarized the book for me. I think that Ruthie left everyone around her make all her decisions. She was a follower and she just happened to end up following a really bizarre person, her aunt. I also realize she could hardly do anything else … she was so young and inexperienced. What else could she do?

And I really enjoyed some of the comments above and how different readers see different themes: family, independence instead of going along, disappearance, etc. Although I also appreciated some of the above themes, for me, it was a “there are two kinds of people” story. OK, that’s a gross simplification, but I did see Robinson dividing types of people by their housekeeping, both literal cleaning and the ordering of their thoughts along conventional, societally correct lines. Dividing the lonely from the social, and how the former isn’t always the worse off. There was a different drummer beating in the background here, and those who can’t hear it wonder why others are marching, right?

Oh, and I also appreciate that all of us had at least minor difficulty in reading Robinson’s dense writing style. That makes me feel a bit better about myself.

ok- and i have to tell you that i was telling sarah how much i relate to lucille and her to ruthie. me bossy-her complacent and docile. funny huh?

now that i have those whines out of my system, let’s keep talking about this book.

first out: a hearty congratulations to rebecca and camille for giving the book a chance. i hope this first choice didn’t scare anyone off permanently. we’re going to have a wide range of books and hopefully over the months everyone will find something that really speaks to them. our next read (find it under “ride the book trail” on the sidebar) is much less intimidating. i promise it has a plot. (read kt’s plug for the book in the comments section.)

jandee, i was really interested by what you pointed out–that ruthie doesn’t seem to make any choices, she just copes with the choices that others make for her. i wonder if that’s a trait that makes it easier for her to drift. i wonder if it’s something she inherited from a long line of “copers.” but then, you have to wonder why helen drove off that cliff. is that coping? at what point does a person need to become responsible for themselves? (i think that’s the most frightening part of life–waking up and realizing that you’re the mom. no one is going to hold back your pony tail while you vomit. is that what really scared helen? is that why sylvie left here husband before it could happen to her? is this book ultimately about the fear to commit and to grow up?)

and kt, i like the connection to lear. ruthie had to be completely outside of society before she could see her place in it. interesting that she tries to set fire to the only thing that indicates her place in society and fails.

i agree with you too, sarajane. that the book is relatively plotless. i tend to have a high tolerance for that sort of thing, but i know that not everyone does. it seems like it would be easier to read a second time because you wouldn’t be expecting a plot: you could just enjoy watching this family completely unravel.

annie, another interesting point about families. i wonder what it means that their mother was only present in the housekeeping. i was just thinking last night that i don’t remember my mother housekeeping. i don’t think this means that she didn’t do it, but i do think it means that i knew other things were more of a priority for her. i wonder what my children will remember me doing? (pecking at my computer … ? making double chocolate crackle cookies … ?) what do our early memories of our mothers speak about us? about them?

in fact, the more i think about this book, the more i like it. i think it is going on the shelf.

and i know there are more of you out there who read the book. weigh in! let us know what you thought.