It's ironic that I read this book while I was reading Sex and the City.

The two novels are as disparate as different planets. One book is about an ordinary housewife struggling with life's little trials. It delves into the minutiae of her daily existence, the challenges she faces in her relationships, and the small victories that bring her joy.

The other, on the other hand, is a place peppered with big names and obscene money, fur coats and Lear jets. It's a world of glamour and excess, where the characters seem to live a life of luxury and ease.

This book, however, is phenomenal. It's probably the best book I've read in the last year. And it's funny to think about because there is no one person, or plot twist, or moment that makes it memorable. Instead, each and every page is special because the perspective of this woman is so true, so sensitive, so illuminating.

Somehow, even a minuscule event in this woman's life becomes important--great even. This book is truly about the journey, the small steps that we take every day that lead us to where we are. It's a celebration of the ordinary, and a reminder that there is beauty and meaning in the simplest of things.

Reviewed in the February 2022 edition of Quick Lit on Modern Mrs Darcy:

This book initially found its way onto my TBR by chance. I have a penchant for collecting orange Penguin paperbacks. Years ago, after a visit to my favorite library book sale, I returned home with not just one but two copies of that particular edition! When I showcased my book haul on Instagram, my readers quickly noticed my oversight. However, they also reassured me that the 1995 Pulitzer winner was more than worthy of my time.

The book meticulously details the life of Daisy Stone Goodwill. It begins with her eventful birth in a small Manitoba town and follows her journey until her death in Florida approximately eight decades later. There is much to admire in this richly drawn chronicle of a so-called "ordinary" life. The prose is truly beautiful, with countless sentences that seem to shimmer. Yet, despite this, I never quite felt an emotional investment in the story.

I'm glad that I read this book, and I'm also intrigued by the comments from my trusted readers. They tell me that while The Stone Diaries is indeed good (after all, it won the Pulitzer), The Ceremony of Love and Happenstance are even better. I'm now looking forward to exploring these other works by the same author.

I'm not one who takes to prize-winning books easily. However, I do make an effort not to pre-judge if I can help it.

I read this particular book during my time at university. It wasn't spectacular by any means, but it offered an interesting journey through the drudgery of work and everyday life.

The main theme that emerged for me was identity. The narration frequently switches between the first and third person, which gives the impression of it being part autobiography and part biography.

There is a strong sense of realism throughout. Although this might be categorized as "fiction", the story feels very real in its essence.

You need to take your time and settle into the book. But once you do, you'll find yourself getting drawn in and engaged with the characters and their experiences.

It's not a book that will immediately grab you, but it has its own charm and depth that reveals itself as you read on.

Overall, it was an interesting read that made me think about the nature of identity and the ordinary yet meaningful aspects of our lives.

The Stone Diaries is a captivating account of one woman's life. Daisy Goodwill Flett enters this world in a strange and tragic situation. The book chronicles her journey from birth to death. In many ways, her life can be considered ordinary, which perhaps is the point that Shields is trying to make. She shows that all lives are essentially the same because, regardless of how different they may seem from others, all lives are solitary and isolated adventures. Only one person truly feels and knows who you are, and that person is you.

Many of Shields' characters are preoccupied with looking back, dwelling in their pasts and attempting to untangle the lives they have lived but scarcely understand. They grapple with the questions of how to relate to others, what it means to love or be loved.

There is a prominent theme of loneliness and isolation that pervades the book. Daisy is often alone, yet she is not unique in this among the people she meets. It seems that they are all alone and struggling as well. Much of the loneliness on display here is self-imposed, as if the fear of connection outweighs the need to reach out and be joined with others.

Carol Shields makes an interesting choice in writing this novel. She begins the opening chapter in the first person, the following chapter in both first and third person (but with the same voice), and then tells the rest of the story in the third person until a brief comment in the first person in the final chapter. I understand that this is a deliberate choice, a device meant to achieve something significant in the novel's structure, but I have yet to fully grasp its purpose. It may be an attempt to make us realize that even within ourselves, there is an "other" that is separate, observing, and almost unknown to us. Perhaps the first person represents the soul. This is the best explanation I have been able to come up with so far. If anyone else who has read this book has a different thought, I would love to hear it!

The metaphor of the stone runs throughout the novel, from the beginning to the end. It is seen in the idea of having things carved in stone, the building of monuments, the hardening of the heart and soul, and the impenetrable walls that divide us from one another. It weaves its way like a river through every major character and recurs in names, thoughts, and physical manifestations.

One thing is certain, there is no need to put R.I.P. on Daisy's tombstone.