Details

I'm not a detail person.  "Good Enough!" is one of my most usual expressions."  But The Nightingale by Kristan Hannah was so well written, down to the minuteness of details, that she had me drooling.  I see the importance of details in writing, at least.  What a writer!  Her written expression seems so effortlessly done.  The story is about living in occupied France during World War II.  The Nightingale refers to the code name given to the guide who helped people cross over the Pyrenes.

Hannah's descriptions of the hardships endured had me suffering.  And what I particularly noted was the description of cooking.  This is not a book about cooking, nor hardship.  It's a story of two young women and their differences, especially their different ways of approaching the war.  They both get drawn into the battle.  Hannah deftly describes the scenes so well that you're there.  Although, food was rationed, and they grew what they could, the people had to make do.  Being French, I suppose, meant adding spices when cooking.  Even with using only root vegetables, I was drooling over the description of the vegetables braised in the pan.  This made me personally resolve to be a better cook.  If French cuisine can be adhered to during deprivation, then I have no excuse.

I went through my spices and threw out the old to make room for the new.  I plan to try some new ones too.  I'm even thinking of moving the spices to a more convenient reach, so I'll use them more often.

Actually, cooking has nothing whatsoever to do with the book, The Nightingale.  However, it is
a novel that I'm sure will whet your appetite.

Heart and Soul

For the past few days, I've been absorbed in the book The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah.  It was one of those times when you can't put the book done.  I highly recommend it as a very enjoyable read.

Near the end, the character Isabelle tells her sister something that someone told me a long time ago.  I've never forgotten it.  Isabelle, broken and beaten, suffering and sick, tells her sister "They couldn't touch my heart.  They couldn't change who I was inside.  My body...they broke that in the first days, but not my heart..."

Where I heard this before was from a prison inmate.  He was trying to tell me the very same thing.  He said, "they've taken everything away from me, but not my soul.  They can't take that."

Who you are, can't be taken away.  Maybe identity cards and name changes look like you've changed, but you don't.  Not if you don't want them to.  It's up to you.