Review of Heart Stones
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[Following is an official OnlineBookClub.org review of "Heart Stones" by Mary Aver.]
Heart Stones, by Mary Aver, is a non-fiction tale of love and loss. It is one mother’s story, but it speaks to anyone who has ever grieved for a loved one and sought answers to what happens to us when we die. Born in rural north Tipperary in Ireland, the author grew up in the 1950s and 1960s. She left Ireland with her fiancé for the bright lights of London in her early twenties. She gave birth to her son, Zane, in 1975 and her daughter Kara three years later. Kara died at the age of fourteen in 1993. Zane died at twenty-eight in 2004. How does a loving mother recover from such mighty blows? Mary Aver tells us in Heart Stones.
Part of the answer is wrapped up in her life’s spiritual journey. The author was born with a heightened sensibility, a sense that the world consisted of more than what could be seen. As a child, she ‘hears’ the thoughts of adults and understands their feelings. She sees brightly lit ‘beings’ at her convent school. Pregnant with her first child, she sees visions and wonders if other expectant mothers also have these experiences. Although raised as a Catholic, she turns to the ancient wisdom of the East in her search for answers. She visits India to sit at the feet of swamis. She becomes a shaman and a therapist.
This is a beautiful book despite its sad subject matter. That’s mainly due to the author’s talent for writing. While many people feel they have a story worth telling, few can tell it in a way that keeps the reader enthralled. Mary Aver is one of the few. She has a poet’s feel for the rhythm of words and sentences allied to an understanding of how to pace her narrative. At times, she writes lyrically: ‘…I’d put my worry into the darkness of the night and pray that time would stretch as wide as the sky.’ (Page 5) At other points, she writes in simple prose that makes her description of events even more powerful. Some parts of the book would make a stone weep.
The deaths of Zane and Kara are central to the book, but they are not the whole story. This is as much about a mother’s love and the bonds that tie families together. It is about the journey we take through this world and what awaits us on the other side of life. One doesn’t have to be a person of faith to appreciate this writer-pilgrim’s story.
There is nothing I disliked about this book. I found it hard to set aside, such is the power of the writing. I’d like to have seen more photographs, perhaps. There are some of Zane and Kara, together with one of Swami Kaleshwar. A few more of other people in the book might have been interesting but that’s a very minor gripe.
I am happy to award this book four out of four stars. At the heart of the story is the sudden death of two young people, so if reading that will cause upset or trigger memories, then best avoid this book. It has been professionally edited, and I found only four minor errors. I recommend it to readers who enjoy memoirs and who approach different faith and belief systems with an open mind.
******
Heart Stones
View: on Bookshelves
Heart Stones, by Mary Aver, is a non-fiction tale of love and loss. It is one mother’s story, but it speaks to anyone who has ever grieved for a loved one and sought answers to what happens to us when we die. Born in rural north Tipperary in Ireland, the author grew up in the 1950s and 1960s. She left Ireland with her fiancé for the bright lights of London in her early twenties. She gave birth to her son, Zane, in 1975 and her daughter Kara three years later. Kara died at the age of fourteen in 1993. Zane died at twenty-eight in 2004. How does a loving mother recover from such mighty blows? Mary Aver tells us in Heart Stones.
Part of the answer is wrapped up in her life’s spiritual journey. The author was born with a heightened sensibility, a sense that the world consisted of more than what could be seen. As a child, she ‘hears’ the thoughts of adults and understands their feelings. She sees brightly lit ‘beings’ at her convent school. Pregnant with her first child, she sees visions and wonders if other expectant mothers also have these experiences. Although raised as a Catholic, she turns to the ancient wisdom of the East in her search for answers. She visits India to sit at the feet of swamis. She becomes a shaman and a therapist.
This is a beautiful book despite its sad subject matter. That’s mainly due to the author’s talent for writing. While many people feel they have a story worth telling, few can tell it in a way that keeps the reader enthralled. Mary Aver is one of the few. She has a poet’s feel for the rhythm of words and sentences allied to an understanding of how to pace her narrative. At times, she writes lyrically: ‘…I’d put my worry into the darkness of the night and pray that time would stretch as wide as the sky.’ (Page 5) At other points, she writes in simple prose that makes her description of events even more powerful. Some parts of the book would make a stone weep.
The deaths of Zane and Kara are central to the book, but they are not the whole story. This is as much about a mother’s love and the bonds that tie families together. It is about the journey we take through this world and what awaits us on the other side of life. One doesn’t have to be a person of faith to appreciate this writer-pilgrim’s story.
There is nothing I disliked about this book. I found it hard to set aside, such is the power of the writing. I’d like to have seen more photographs, perhaps. There are some of Zane and Kara, together with one of Swami Kaleshwar. A few more of other people in the book might have been interesting but that’s a very minor gripe.
I am happy to award this book four out of four stars. At the heart of the story is the sudden death of two young people, so if reading that will cause upset or trigger memories, then best avoid this book. It has been professionally edited, and I found only four minor errors. I recommend it to readers who enjoy memoirs and who approach different faith and belief systems with an open mind.
******
Heart Stones
View: on Bookshelves
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