Charity Girl

I’ve always been a sucker for good historical fiction, even as a kid. And Charity Girl didn’t disappoint. It’s set in Boston during World War I, and we follow Frieda Mintz, a silly, immature, and reckless young woman. Frieda attempts to escape marriage to a much older man, a marriage arranged by her mother for her own financial benefit, by running away and working in a downtown department store. Like most 17 year olds, she’s impetuous and rarely thinks in terms of consequences. After a one night stand with a soldier, she finds herself sick with some sexually transmitted diseases, thus landing on the radar of the Committee on Prevention, tasked with “protecting” soldiers from infected and morally deviant young women. Frieda makes one bad choice after another, and after being sexually assaulted, finally lands in a quarantine detention camp with several other young women, mostly prostitutes, but all infected with some type of STD. All the while, Frieda desperately hangs on to the dream that her rich soldier will come rescue her, that they’ll live happily ever after, that she’ll finally find freedom with the man that she spent one day with.

Every time I tried putting the book down, I found myself reaching for it again and again. And I tried my best to dislike Frieda, with her silly, impulsive and naive ways. But I couldn’t stay angry with her. Sometimes I wanted to shout at her for her stupidity. I often wanted to hug her to help make the pain go away. A few times I wanted to slap some sense into her. But I always liked her. Perhaps because I recognized my own silly 17 year old self, full of unrealistic expectations and unaware that others might have ulterior motives. Or perhaps because it was easy to think of Frieda as a younger sibling, one that needs guidance and experience, but not the hell that she had to face at such a young age. Maybe it’s because I recognized so many friends, past and present, desperate for a man’s attention and willing to overlook even the most blatant lies. Whatever the reason, I fell under Frieda’s spell, wanted for her sake for everything to work out just as she hoped, even though I knew they wouldn’t.

The book ended with a glimpse of Frieda 20 years later, and I got the distinct feeling that I was supposed to think of grown up Frieda as a tragic figure, a woman who never sees her dreams come to fruition, a woman who’s given up hope that her life will be what she wanted it to be. But I fail to see the tragedy there. Frieda landed on her feet. She survived. No, her life doesn’t look like she thought it would, but whose life ever does? Heaven help us if we all fulfilled our 17 year old dreams! I’m sure we’d have lots of rock stars, actresses, models and sports players, but not much responsibility. Dreams change. And that’s a good thing. How sad if all still clung to our seventeen year old selves, never matured, never grew. The tragedy isn’t that Frieda’s life turned out differently than she wanted. The tragedy is that she couldn't let go of her childish vision of the perfect life long enough to recognize the beauty of the life she ended up with.

The Help By Kathryn Stockett

I found myself wanting a great read that was meaningful. I didn't feel like battling Victor Hugo. I tried to read him, because of my best friend's encouragement, but sorry, Dida, I am just not ready to fight so hard for my fill of worthy literature. Maybe when my head is itching for something meaty, but not during the school year while taking a master's class. It is just too much. On the other hand, I don't want to waste my time on drivel either. I'm too busy for fluff. Besides, that's what Facebook is for! :) My fluff quota is filled. So, I e-mailed Dan and asked for a recommendation. He gave me two and this one arrived first from my beloved mail-order library. Apparently his wife was a fan and when I posted about it on Facebook, it seems like lots of people have read it and enjoyed it. I am not surprised. It was wonderful.

Set in the south during the changing times of Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King, Jr., the reader is invited to view the story from 3 women's perspectives. 2 of those women are African-American maids and 1 is a society girl, having just graduated from college with dreams of being a journalist. She doesn't quite fit in, is a bit awkward, and hasn't landed her man yet, much to her mother's lament. She is challenged to notice the world around her by a New York editor when she applies for a job she is clearly under-qualified for and it seems that this is when she starts to wonder about the way the "colored" maid must feel...

What does the maid think about having a separate bathroom built for her out in the garage because the family and guests don't want to catch her diseases?

How does she feel about raising the white children, loving them completely and having them grow into adults that treat their caregivers like second class citizens?

The 2 maids that are featured in the book are wonderful characters. It was a delight to get to know them. They were full-bodied and well-developed with faults, flaws and humor, love, anger, and an understandable acceptance of their lot. There doesn't even seem to be a true hope that things will be different, just a swallowing, hard, of the injustice that is...

When our society girl decides to ask for insight because she'd like to write a book about what it is like to be "The Help" in these white families, it is rebuffed out of massive fear because those that speak out in this part of the country don't do so without significant consequences, but there is something about wanting to share the "real" story that just won't go away. And so it begins...

I won't say more about the plot, but I will say that the result is a witty, honest, delight of a story that helps you live in a time and place of importance. It is a worthwhile read and one that will linger with me. I highly recommend it!