Exceedingly Mundane

I finished another book last night, one that my dear friend Susie sent me to read because she read it and liked it. It’s called “All That Matters” by Jan Goldstein and I must admit that I didn’t realize until the very end that Jan is a man and not a woman. This is very much a woman’s book, and it seemed to be written by a woman, and not a Jewish Rabbi. It was a good book, a really quick read, and a very thoughtful one as well. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I liked the characters, Jennifer and her feisty grandmother Gabby, and the stories what wove throughout the book. I love the things that Gabby tries to teach Jennifer, about how each day is a gift and for her to find one good thing each day to write down in her journal. A wonderful lesson for us all. I thought briefly of trying to write a review, but I decided to cheat and copy one from Amazon.com instead. Click on the extended entry to read their published comments, verbatim, of this book.

This book left me with one overriding feeling – a sense of hope. In spite of the some of the main threads of the book (Jennifer, the granddaughter, attempts suicide, and Gabby, the grandmother, is a Holocaust survivor), this book was one of joy and hope. It was a very easy read, no hard words or difficult plot lines here, and it really ended all too quickly. 🙂

For the record, that makes #4 so far this new year, with a total of 1,014 pages read. Up next, I think I’ll read book 3 in the Abram’s Daughters series by Beverly Lewis, called “The Sacrifice”. My mother-in-law gave me the last 3 books in this series that I lacked, and I’m so looking forward to reading them. 🙂 After that, I think I’ll read something light from my ever-growing “to-be-read” stash. Books, glorious books!

Cut and pasted directly from Amazon.com:

Amazon.com
Destined to be a sure-fire weeper, All that Matters by Jan Goldstein is, nonetheless, a good story about a lost young woman and her aged grandmother, both of whom have scores to settle with life, and a great deal to offer each other.
Jennifer Stempler has taken herself to Venice Beach to get lost in the crowd, ingest enough Xanax and tequila to do herself in, and simply lie down and die. Instead, the metal-combed beach sweeper stops just short of her inert form and her plan is foiled. Jennifer has, in her opinion, plenty of reasons to exit the planet. Her mother was killed while walking when she would have been driving if Jennifer hadn’t taken the car–at her mother’s insistence; her father, having left her and her mother years before, is now remarried to Ms. Beverly Hills Aerobics and the proud father of a baby girl; her long-time lover, her this-is-forever guy, ups and leaves. Everybody seems to be leaving, so why not her, reasons Jennifer.

Enter the quintessential Jewish grandmother, Gittel “Gabby” Zuckerman, Holocaust survivor and fearless old lady. She convinces Jennifer’s pompous father and her Doctor to let Jennifer go to New York with her, instead of being locked up someplace, drugged senseless and asked to talk herself to pieces. One of the best parts of the book is the sendup Goldstein does of shrinks and their various party lines.

At the beginning of the book, Jennifer carries a camcorder everywhere: “It wasn’t just about focus, Jennifer told herself. Recording events meant time could be stopped, played back, even erased.” This metaphor is, unfortunately, never followed up, and it’s a good one for what happens to Jennifer. The relationship between the two women, one with a life ahead of her, if she will only claim it, and the other with a life she will soon leave, flourishes as they learn from each other that what really matters is offering the gift of love. –Valerie Ryan —

From Publishers Weekly
In this sentimental, uplifting first novel by rabbi and self-help author Goldstein (Sacred Wounds; Life Can Be This Good), a suicidal young woman finds her bliss with the help of her grandmother, a Holocaust survivor. At 23, Jennifer thinks there’s little to live for: her mother is dead, her Hollywood-producer father is busy with his picturesque new family, and her boyfriend has given her the boot. (“Phillip had been the white knight of her childhood fairy tales, the prince she long dreamed would rescue her from a life she had no wish to live.”) Enter Gittel “Gabby” Zuckerman, to take Jennifer back with her to New York and make everything all right. Jennifer may not be particularly sympathetic or convincing as a depressive, but Gabby, for all her familiarity (twinkly eyes, “floating halo of white hair,” indomitable spirit) is hard not to love. When she reveals to Jennifer how she met her husband and escaped the Nazis in Poland, the story (though often told in fiction) transcends cliché and takes on some urgency. Elsewhere, there are clichés aplenty, but Goldstein unabashedly, effectively yanks readers’ heartstrings—and some of them will love it.