This is a truly terrific novel.

It is written in a beautiful and engaging style, delving into a plethora of interesting ideas.

It explores the offhand catastrophes that can occur in everyday life, the way one person can nonchalantly devastate another without a hint of remorse.

It also touches on the crime and inevitability of wasted time, the remarkable ability of women to endure suffering in silence until their dying breath.

The novel questions the impossibility of an accurate autobiography and the sad, almost ridiculous notion that there is any semblance of justice in this world.

The author treats the characters in this book as stones, with their true natures gradually revealed as time and events chip away at them, exposing their inner beings.

The story is told without excessive sentimentality, yet it is filled with humor and wit.

Overall, it is a book that is not only well worth reading but also one that will leave a lasting impression on the reader.

It challenges our perspectives and makes us think about the complex and often unjust nature of life.

It is a literary gem that should not be missed.

She understood that if she was going to hold on to her life at all, she would have to rescue it by a primary act of imagination. She would need to supplement, modify, and summon up the necessary connections. She might even have to conjure the pastoral or heroic or whatever, perhaps even dream a limestone tower into existence. She knew that she might get the details wrong occasionally, exaggerate or lie outright, invent letters or conversations of impossible gentility, or cast conjecture in a pretty light.

I joined Facebook a few years ago. Like many people, I looked to see if I could find anyone I used to know. I did stumble upon a few without making any effort to contact them. In the end, it felt like there was a reason why we didn't know each other anymore. However, there was one friend that I regretted losing touch with. After much searching and eventually finding her daughter, I got in touch with Delight. We talked on the phone, chatted through Facebook, and eventually got together face to face. What was strange was that when answering the questions, "So what's new? What have you been doing with yourself for the past 15 years?", it was a struggle for me to come up with much more than, "Well, we have one more daughter than when we last spoke and now we live in Cambridge." It's not that I haven't done anything in those years. I don't consider myself bored or boring in my everyday life. But my story does lack grand events. And insofar as that means my story lacks tragedy, I am not ungrateful for it. Sure, I was able to sketch a big picture of a life of happiness and routine, throwing in a few brags about how great my girls are, sharing some frustrations and minor setbacks. But since I was talking to someone who already knew me, I felt like she still knew me, as the "me" hadn't really changed. In the end, my dull story felt like not so much a failure of memory as a failure of memoir.

The recounting of a life is a cheat, of course. I admit the truth of this. Even our own stories are obscenely distorted. It is a wonder really that we keep faith with the simple container of our existence.

In The Stone Diaries, Carol Shields presents Daisy Goodwill Flett as an ordinary person who, as a classic unreliable narrator, tells her life story. She flips from first person to third person omniscient perspectives, witnessing and describing even her own birth. She carefully chooses which stories to include and which long stretches of years to omit. The storytelling is clever. I would be sucked into the narrative, "believing" what I was being told. But Shields repeatedly tells the reader that Daisy can't be trusted. For example, she writes, "Well, a childhood is what anyone wants to remember of it. It leaves behind no fossils, except perhaps in fiction. Which is why you want to take Daisy's representation of events with a grain of salt, a bushel of salt." And, "You might like to guess that Daisy has no gaiety left in her, but this is not true, since she lives outside her story as well as inside." Imagine living outside your own story! Of course our lives contain more than the story we're willing to share, more than the truth that we're willing to admit to ourselves. But in the end, what is truth? My husband has a dozen biographies of Elvis Presley, has read dozens more. I wonder if anyone has been written about more extensively. There are books on Elvis' career and love life and drug use and family, written by friends and lovers and dispassionate "truth-seekers". His every public word and action, along with many private, have been catalogued and parsed and psychoanalysed. And even if he had written an autobiography, would any of us know the "truth" of his existence? Would Elvis himself? The omissions and reactions and fallacies in The Stone Diaries demonstrate that even Daisy herself can't get at the truth of her own existence. I read an edition of this book that includes the "family photos" and I thought that the picture included of Daisy's parents is genius. After describing her mother, Mercy, as a doughy mountain of flesh, the picture of her looks like a fairly average sized person, maybe a size twelve. Does Daisy imagine that her father adores his wife's generous rolls of flesh because it is she, not necessarily he, who needs to create a soft and matronly presence to disappear into? It's these sorts of details that make The Stone Diaries a technical marvel.

On genealogy, Shields writes, "Victoria doesn't believe these earnest amateurs are looking for links to royalty or to creative genius; all they want is for their ancestors to be revealed as simple, honest, law-abiding folks, quiet in their accomplishments, faithful in their vows, cheerful, solvent, and well intentioned, and that their robustly rounded (but severely occluded) lives will push up against, and perhaps pardon, the contemporary plagues of displacement and disaffection."

And so we are left with the paradox of not being able to adequately know our own truths, let alone share them with others. And we leave behind generations of descendants who will never glimpse beyond the bare facts of us that they might one day discover.

The Stone Diaries is like a scrapbook. It contains letters and recipes, reminiscences from different perspectives, conjectures and made up stories. Taken together, they make up a life. But in the end, we are instructed to take it all with a grain of salt. I think it's the technical feat of this book that earned it a Pulitzer Prize. The book I read came from the local library, and annoyingly, someone had started underlining every word that refers to stone and every word that refers to plants and gardening. Happily the underlining vandal gave up halfway through the book, but it left me with an eye for the language that I was supposed to be watching out for. And I hope the happy underliner read through to the end where the dying Daisy feels herself turning to stone. So while I can appreciate the mastery that Carol Shields displayed in writing this book, I lacked a connection with Daisy. She compares unfavourably, as a reading experience, to Hagar in The Stone Angel. And yet I have to give it five stars, acknowledging as I do that all of my ratings are filtered through my own history and sentiments; through me.

Like stumbling upon a hidden shoebox in the dusty attic.

Here, the life of Daisy unfolds predominantly through narration, yet is fortified by an array of elements such as letters, tombstones, photographs (which at times conflict with the narrative), words engraved on a Victorian plate, a luncheon menu, Aunt Daisy's Lemon Pudding recipe, to-do lists, a catalog of books read, and a sheet documenting every address where Daisy resided.

People are introduced, explicated, encapsulated, and categorized. I'm envious of those who can distill others to a comprehensible essence. Nevertheless, as the text itself concedes, such simplification has its own perils. After all, we can't even keep our own stories coherent.

How astonishing it would be if a family tree could bring even a single person into as sharp a focus as Daisy. There are not too many individuals who can anticipate being long remembered after they depart. Having one's lemon pudding recipe endure for a while would be more than what most people are recalled for.

Everything within this book feels genuine and substantial. I truly, truly adore it.

The story follows the life of Daisy and the lives of the characters around her, starting from the day of Daisy's birth until her death.

The writing style was nice, and the idea of the narrative being from the perspective of more than one character so that we could know their thoughts and feelings was lovely at times. And sometimes seeing the character from behind through the author was good. But at the same time, this made the style dry at times and distant from the characters, as if we were reading the news, for example. So this completely disconnected me from the characters.

The second thing that annoyed me was the idea that the times when ordinary events were narrated and described in great detail, and then in a second set of details, there could be a lot of narration and description of the characters' thoughts and feelings, and it would pass by very quickly like a secret report.

The story could have been much better than this, and I really enjoyed it, especially since the author had beautiful expressions and a nice style, and the passages I felt were really close to me. But unfortunately, then it would push me away and sometimes insert really boring details. Especially the last part of the story was very boring.

Until almost the end of the story, I could rate it a 3, but after that, it really disconnected me.

17 / 8 / 2023

The Stone Diaries is a captivating account of a life that is both filled with tragedy and moments of joy and fulfillment.

As the author ponders, "What is the story of a life? A chronicle of fact or a skillfully wrought impression?" In this case, it's a blend of both. We are warned early on that Daisy Goodwill has some difficulty with getting things straight, with the truth.

The story of Daisy's life is told through various narrative styles, including letters, newspaper articles, and accompanied by photographs and a family tree. She experiences many tragedies, starting with her birth, but also has periods of happiness, like motherhood.

Despite the sadness, the book is full of wit and humor. For instance, the scene where Daisy tells her daughter about the facts of life and tries to convince her that what happens between her parents is beautiful, not 'icky'. Or the advice from her prospective mother-in-law about tomato juice at breakfast and white shoes.

I particularly enjoyed the section on 'Work'. It starts with melancholy news but contains funny letters from readers in response to Daisy's gardening column. Carol Shields creates inventive and sometimes violent deaths for her characters.

The Stone Diaries is not just the story of a woman but also a century, with a focus on the micro level. Significant world events happen off-stage. Daisy experiences bereavement and depression but also enjoys lifelong friendships, finds fulfillment in work and family, and remains positive and resilient until the end of her life.

As Margaret Atwood notes in the Foreword, The Stone Diaries is moving, funny, compassionate, and full of delights.

This was an absolutely sublime reading experience, one that I truly and desperately needed in my life at this very moment. I'm sure I might be getting a bit carried away, but I just couldn't help but think that if John Williams’ Stoner had been born into the body of a woman, the result would have been Carol Shields’ Daisy Goodwill Flett. In fact, the two basically drew their first breaths around the same time. One was born at the end of the nineteenth century, while the other just shortly after the start of the twentieth. One was born in a quiet Midwestern town, and the other in a sleepy mid-Canada province. Both are inherently lonely souls.

“… she sees years and years ahead for herself. That life thus far has meant accepting the doses of disabling information that have come her way, every drop, and stirring them with the spoon of her longing – she’s done this for so many years it’s become second nature.”

This book begins with Daisy’s birth and the loss of her mother. A feeling of abandonment haunts the entirety of her days. The way Shields tells Daisy’s story is rather curious and a bit unique. At times it seems to be an autobiography, with Shields using the first person point of view. Then she abruptly switches back to third person, and the reader has the sense he or she is reading a biography of sorts. It didn’t bother me; I simply mention it as a puzzling narrative choice. Others, including friends and family, interrupt and are given the opportunity to tell bits and pieces of Daisy’s life as well. Much of what the author urges us to contemplate is how a story is told and to what extent we should believe it. Memories are distorted. People reinvent themselves. One person’s version is different from the next.

“Life is an endless recruiting of witnesses. It seems we need to be observed in our postures of extravagance or shame, we need attention paid to us. Our own memory is altogether too cherishing, which is the kindest thing I can say for it. Other accounts are required, other perspectives, but even so our most important ceremonies – birth, love, and death – are secured by whomever and whatever is available.”

Daisy is central to the telling of this novel, but other characters are brilliantly captured too - Daisy’s father, her adoptive mother, her husbands, her three children and her two best friends. I loved reading about every single one of them. Carol Shields is a master of characterization and therefore immediately gets elevated to favorite author status. The feeling that we all truly live in a wasteland of solitude and longing permeates the entire novel. At least that’s what my sometimes melancholy nature took away from this telling of a life that is not much different from our everyday ones. In the end, there are hills and valleys to our stories, distorted remembrances and missed opportunities. When time slips away from us, what will we remember? Should we just give in and accept our often uneventful lives, or is there a way to truly live life to the fullest – and how do we go about doing that before it’s too late?

“The larger loneliness of our lives evolves from our unwillingness to spend ourselves, stir ourselves. We are always damping down our inner weather, permitting ourselves the comforts of postponement, of rehearsals.”

I really want to take a countess that lasts until 11 and then re-rate it once I finish reading it again now that I'm rereading it. Because after this, what? What should I read?

It's a bit of a conundrum. I'm not sure what my next reading choice should be. Maybe I should explore a different genre or author. There are so many options out there.

On the one hand, I could stick with something similar to the countess, perhaps another historical romance. But on the other hand, I might want to branch out and try something completely new, like a mystery or a science fiction novel.

I guess I'll have to think about it for a while and see what catches my eye. In the meantime, I'll continue to enjoy my reread of the countess and hope that it gives me some inspiration for my next reading adventure.

The book number 180, and with it, I have completed the Goodreads challenge for this year.

And it is number 2000 among my readings in general.

On 8/12/2022, I achieved this milestone. Reading has always been a passion of mine, and it allows me to explore different worlds, gain knowledge, and expand my horizons. Completing the Goodreads challenge gives me a sense of accomplishment and motivation to continue reading more books. Each book I read is like a new adventure, and I look forward to many more in the future.

I found this to be an absolute drag. The writing style is so stuffy and overly controlled that it makes it a real chore to get through.

I'm truly astonished that this work managed to win the Pulitzer. It's just a mediocre novel that focuses on some seriously uninteresting individuals.

Why on earth would the author title the chapters as "marriage", "love", "sorrow", and "ease", etc., when they could have come up with something far more engaging like "Mrs. Green Thumb vs. The Warm Penis"?

I guess we may never know the reason behind such a choice. That remains a spooky mystery right there, leaving readers scratching their heads and wondering what the author was thinking.

Perhaps there's some deeper meaning or intention that we're not privy to, but as it stands, the novel fails to capture my interest and leaves me with a sense of disappointment.

It makes me question the criteria used to award the Pulitzer and whether this particular work truly deserved such a prestigious accolade.

Overall, it's a rather lackluster experience that I wouldn't recommend to others.

Things begin, things end...

The Stone Diaries is a captivating and profound story that centers around the life of Daisy Goodwill. It takes us on a journey through her numerous ups and downs in the eventful twentieth century. Daisy faces a plethora of situations where she has to make choices, some of which are voluntary and others are thrust upon her.
This is not just an ordinary tale; it is a beautiful narrative about love, tenderness, and courage. Daisy experiences love in different forms, which shapes her character and influences her decisions. The tenderness she shows towards others and herself is truly heartwarming. And through it all, she demonstrates remarkable courage in the face of adversity.
She just let her life happen to her. This line sums up Daisy's approach to life, which is both passive and yet, in its own way, brave. The Stone Diaries is a must-read for anyone who enjoys a well-written and thought-provoking story about the human experience.

The story starts very strongly with a writing style that resembles classic, passionate literature, full of promise. Family feuds always "attract" the reading public because as readers, we feel as if we are delving into the depths of families.

The heroine becomes an orphan of her mother at the moment of her birth. This, in fact, will create an emotional void that she will carry for the rest of her life. The blows of fate are heaped upon her. We see her entire life from childhood to adulthood and mature age.

Until a little before the middle, I was excited. From page 250 and on, a wave of negative emotions came. The pages of the letters left me indifferent. After a while, I found it again but only for a short time. Unfortunately, it didn't emotionally engage me. I would even say not even the central character. I didn't notice any characterization of the heroine. Even her sidekicks were unable to give me a complete picture of her.

A cold and soulless presence. I understood the messages that the author wanted to convey. However, only up to that point. I don't think they were presented as I would have liked.

Anyway, the writing, I强调 again, was good!

My mother’s name was Mercy Stone Goodwill. This is how the story begins, which initially seems like an autobiography of a woman named Daisy. But as the pages turn, it transforms into something truly unique. It becomes an outsider’s perspective on someone’s actions or inner thoughts. At times, even the narrator, whether it's Daisy or someone else, doesn't seem to fully understand what's happening.

It appears to be a pseudo-biography, or perhaps more accurately, a philosophical exploration of human nature and a woman's psyche. Maybe it's also a somewhat humorous yet sad look at a woman's place in the twentieth century. The novel delves into what one thinks when facing death, illness, or the loss of a loved one. It then reveals that although it seems like the truth, it might all be fabricated. However, as the author makes clear, if we're told it's the truth, we can accept it.

The life of an ordinary woman with all its ins and outs and ups and downs could have been told in a平淡 tone, perhaps with exclamations for significant milestones like age 31, marriage, or the birth of the third child. Instead, the narrative meanders, constantly moving forward while looking back at certain points. This allows us to peek into the minds of others and be part of their journey in the world separate from Daisy. One chapter is told entirely through letters (only those sent TO, never FROM), and another is a series of interviews with people who "knew Daisy when". Although it's doubtful these interviews actually took place, they feel真实, and since Daisy herself is never very forthcoming about what's happening, the opinions and insights of others are crucial to the story.

In the end, we're left with a shopping list, a bridal trousseau, school awards, a collection of books, fingernail clippings, and a memorial write-up of a life lived. Daisy's thoughts about life and what others thought of her life (sometimes incorrectly, but that's only natural) also remain with us.

As I read this book, I often thought it was a strange novel. It sometimes made me wince and sometimes made me laugh. It touched on subjects not commonly analyzed or seen in the fiction I usually read. The inclusion of pictures was definitely a pleasant surprise. The different writing styles were interesting, and although I sometimes wondered if I really liked the book, I found that I had to read to the end. The author's observations were sometimes painful but very perceptive. If at times it seemed too wordy and bogged down in excessive analysis, the author changed the style and started a new chapter in Daisy's life.

From "The tide of fertility and the consolation of fruit salts" to "her faltering pendulum heart, her stiffened coral lungs", the descriptions and comparisons in this book are beautiful and poetic. Some I had to read several times to fully appreciate them. I give it 4 stars instead of 5 because at times I was impatient for the story to progress, but the book is truly remarkable for the insights the author provides into our lives.