The book it reminded me of most is Henry Miller’s The Books in My Life. Like Miller, Shields manages to convey his affection for and admiration of literature, and that, the enthusiasm and admiration, can revitalize the reader’s love for the art form. I’m grateful for How Literature Saved My Life because the book has made me think again – and for the first time in a while – 'Well, what is it we do when we read?' It’s a damned annoying question, but it needs to be asked now and then, and Shields has asked it in a way I find resonant and moving.
We are stuck with not knowing what our actions will actually lead to.
As beings who cannot know the outcome of any particular action, it is difficult for us to act in a way that will be necessarily beneficial to another, or necessarily detrimental.
The important thing for me is that one accepts that one is irretrievably flawed and as you say, takes responsibility for those flaws, rather than hiding them in some code that allows "this" and doesn't allow "that" as if there were a way of being sure of how to be good in the world.
There's a tangle between weakness and vulnerability.
In our male-oriented God phase, it's always about conquering and control of life and death. This power leads to a kind of thinking that is no thinking; it is only sterile and what can overcome. To reach that depth in terms of female divinity is to accept nurture as godly. It's not just something that your mom does for you when something's broken and you need a bandage; it's about something deeper and it is in contradistinction from the endless displays of power.
Now I'm a Catholic agnostic by the way. Yet those myths still live within me.
