With deepest apologies to the author for the tardiness of this post, I have put fingers to keys many, many times in an effort to review his book. Never have I felt so inadequate – had so much trouble finding the right words. Perhaps because I have never before read anything with which I connected on so many levels.
This Möbius Strip of Ifs is a collection of essays, life stories, and personal rages against society, the educational system, religion, and therapy. Okay, bad therapists; not necessarily therapy. As a former-educator and former-therapist, I trust that Mr. Freese knows whereof he speaks.
I can’t say that I disliked any of the works in this book, although some of the essays are so incredibly, painfully personal, reading them was uncomfortable; rather like eavesdropping on a brutally intimate conversation. It’s more that I connected with some more than others. For example:
“Untidy Lives, I Say to Myself” explores whether we can truly find meaning in our existence. If such meaning actually exists at all. Or should our existential goal be “… contemplation without a scorecard”?
“Personal Posturings: Yahoos as Bloggers” is a treasure – combining one of my favorite stories with an all-too-accurate description of so many of us bloggers. (I only hope that I am not a Yahoo.)
The writings on the Holocaust: “On the Holocaust” and “Trains = Holocaust and Other Observations, Railfans” speak to my fear that we are all innately capable of such atrocities. And, probably most importantly, it isn’t society that needs to evolve. It is the individual.
Not everyone has a happy-happy-joy-joy youth. Many of us are raised by, and run the risk of becoming, defective parents. “The Seawall” shares – with all the warts – what it is to live an imperfect life in the shadow of an imperfect mother.
Interestingly enough, my spouse has decided, having heard my review, that this is a book about nothing. To me, it’s a book about everything. Each time I read it (four times, and counting), I find myself touched by something different.
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