HERETICS: A LOVE STORY

(Review) Heretics: A Love Story by Mary Saracino, reviewed by Donna Snyder; (Review) Heretics: A Love Story by Mary Saracino, reviewed by Donna Snyder – Return to Mago E*Magazine (magoism.net)

Heretics:  A Love Story by Mary Saracino, Pearlsong Press, Nashville, TN 2014

Rich details of the Barbaricini culture, and the Genargento Mountains in the Babargia, the most remote region of Sardinia in which they live, ground Mary Saracino’s novel in a very specific place.  Saracino blends the research of an anthropologist with a gift for story-telling, rendering a sort of ethnographic fiction.  The foundation of culture, topography, flora and fauna, and linguistic details is firmly based on fact but vividly realized in a story so beautifully and poetically written that the scholarship and data are effortlessly ingested, threaded through the book’s pages so naturally that the reader is caught up in the fictive moment as if surrounded by the wild mountains and centuries old holme oaks.  Through her scrupulous research, Saracino brings to life a village of shepherds, basket makers, wild bee charmers, and deeply knowledgeable and intuitive folk healers.

In addition to its ethnographic focus, Saracino follows the example of Nobel Prize laureates and various respected scholars by placing her novel in a different time period, the 15^th century, making Heretics a historical fiction. Events of the Spanish Inquisition, the violent imposition of Catholicism on Jews and Moors, and the suppression of indigenous spiritual and cultural practices provide a backdrop to her tale.  Parts of the book occur in Spain, and in her descriptions she captures the politics, tastes and sights of Barcelona, as well as contrasting it with the Spanish colony in Sardinia.

The main characters in the book are majarzas, indigenous healers, a family of twin matriarchs, their daughter and granddaughters also marked to be folk healers, both by training and natural talent.   These women, along with their husbands and the men and women their children marry, are the center of the story.  Saracino creates credible, fully fleshed characters, redolent of shepherd cottages, unleavened bread, pungent pecorino cheeses, native distilled spirits, honey, wild flowers, and mountain air.  While doing so, she catalogs the herbal pharmacopeia, herbs, plants, honey, bee venom, and how to use them.  These twin matriarchs, Sarda and Shardana, are highly respected and influential in their village.  Their skills have birthed every baby and healed every villager of ailments at one time or another.  Likewise, their intuition and oracular dreams are considered authoritative.

While venerating the ages-old Black Madonna, Nostra Signora Nera, for which the empty Catholic church is named, the villagers have moved her statue to an ancient well, the Su Tempiezu.  Nearby, the great Mother Oak sings to the plants and ensures good harvest,  surrounded by wild flowers and a primordial forest filled with oak, cork, chestnut trees and medicinal plants that can be made into potions, dyes, and tonics.  Sarda and Shardana, and many other villagers, still live and practice their traditional animistic ways, believing that all things–bees, flowers, trees, clouds, winds–have spirits, their own secret languages, and songs.  They believe in the Dea Madre, the great mother god, and look to Her for succor and guidance.

When training her granddaughter, Martina, in the ways of majarzas, Shardana admonishes the child to ask permission of the plants before gathering their leaves or flowers or berries or plucking it from the ground.

Plants are as human as you or I.  They have generous hearts. . . although you’re a human being, you’re not better than the herbs and roots, the berries and flowers we harvest.  Or the bees.   They’re equal to us in every way.  They are our blood relatives.

To transcend scholarship and create literary fiction requires not only imagination and an eye for detail, but also narrative tension.  The conflict in this book originates in its second major narrative theme, that of Father Antonio Albóndiga, a Spanish rogue priest, with a fanatic commitment to extirpating and confiscating the property of all Jews and Moors, whether converted to Catholicism or not, as well as torturing and killing people considered pagans or susceptible to being called a witch.  Antonio is expelled from Spain for violence, licentiousness, and political missteps, despite a political connection to his hero and role model, Tomás de Torquemada, the Grand Inquisitor of the Spanish Inquisition, still notorious for torturing and murdering thousands of people, in alliance with Queen Isabella.  Exiled to the Spanish colony in Sardinia, Antonio again becomes notorious for his lust, thievery, debauchery, murderous anger, fanaticism, and cruelty, which soon result in his further banishment to an idyllic, isolated community filled with nature loving villagers in the Barbagia, the most remote area of Sardinia, whose residents are the least assimilated into the culture of the Spanish invaders.

Again, Saracino’s scrupulous scholarship rewards the reader with historical fact, while the poetry of her fiction brings that history to life.  Likewise, her keen insight into psychology and human nature makes her characters fully formed and complex.  There are no stock characters, no caricatures.  She provides insight into what in his personal history led to Antonio’s hate, intolerance, and extreme behaviors, which otherwise might damn him to complete darkness and evil in a less deft hand, and creates a smidgeon of sympathy for a frankly horrifying character.  Every page he inhabits creates an expectation of some form of brutishness.  Antonio, like so many violent and angry people, was subject to violence and horrors as a child.  He also suffers debilitating migraines that seem to lead to violence.

By contrast, every page devoted to Sarda and Shardana and the pristine and peaceful mountain wilderness in which they live and practice their craft feels like a moment spent in idyllic contemplation of the beauty of existence, irrespective of hardships, visited upon people who live so close to nature and in harmony with their aboriginal ways.  The contrast between the two narrative threads sets up the tension and conflict necessary to have effective fiction.

The subtitle of the book, “a love story,” creates ambiguity as to the nature of that romance and which characters might be parties.  This is no formula romance novel.  Saracino’s book is not a formula anything, not purely a historical fiction, definitely not a bodice ripper of the romance genre.  Neither is it purely ethnography or historicity.  She creates a full blown, credible reality.

The structure of the book replicates the society Saracino is depicting.  Memories, interactions, scenes, descriptions, and dialogues cycle through the book, emulating the way the characters conceive of history spiraling, circling in on itself and repeating itself, more like the coils of one of the woven local baskets.  To the villagers, history does not proceed in a linear fashion, and all actions must and do have consequences.

The hearts and the minds of the Barbaricini turned in a circular motion.  Round and round, united as one, the head and the emotions maintained the unbroken connection between action and consequence.

Saracino uses linguistic code switching.  Her English language narrative is embroidered with Spanish, Italian, and Sardinian, the latter language considered closer to Latin than to any other language, including Italian.  As well, she uses the dialect of the mountain people, called Barbaricini because the Romans considered them to be barbarians, both for their primitive ways and for their accent.

As in all societies, the characters, particularly with the abbreviated life expectancy of the 15^th century, must deal with death of family and community members.

They believe in the sanctity of water and stone, of blood and bone, of tears and laughter, immediate and intimate.  Death and life were twins hovering over the shoulders of every man, woman, and child.  Fate would deal with them what it chose, but in the end, the womb of Earth awaited every human . . . .

Saracino’s generosity and insight reveals much about the nature of mourning.  The villagers have no expectation that grief will be brief, or even finite.  Like memory, like history, like the seasons that controls their lives, grief cycles in and out of consciousness, unlike modern expectations that grief proceed in a linear way through a certain sequence of steps, preferably brief steps, at that.  Debilitating sorrow for the loss of a loved one is depicted in this book as lasting even as long as a decade, with grief lasting a life time.  The tolerance of such overwhelming sadness is truly beautiful, unlike today when a bereaved may be expected to cut grief very short, to get on with life, to quit wallowing in the self pity that some consider grief.  In the end, however, we are told that mourners must release their sorrow “into the womb of the Mother.”

What this reader found most amazing is that a healing may occur merely from reading the descriptions of time spent in the forests and amidst the vegetation, and from the depiction of tolerance for the unfolding of human behaviors.  Saracino’s words have the power to serve as balm on the reader’s personal pain, as surely as the characters’ physical and psychic distress are salved by the potions and elixirs Sarda and Shardana concoct from nature.

THE SINGING OF SWANS

MatriFocus Review: The Singing of Swans (Pearlsong Press, October 2006)
Reviewed by Dahti Blanchard ; http://www.matrifocus.com/SAM06/review-fiction.htm


There is a lake, of waters clear and deep
Not far from the walls of Enna, called Pergus.
Even Cayster never heard Such singing of swans, so many have nested here;
With dark branches, a wood gives shade,
Encircling the lake as though to defend it;
Here flowers always bloom, winter never falls,
Here eternal spring smiles.

These words from Ovid’s “Metamorphoses” grace the second page of The Singing of Swans, Mary Saracino’s lovely novel of a thoroughly modern woman, Madalene Ross, who has no time for either thoughts of eternal smiles or a singing of swans. The first page holds a dedication to “…the Dark Mother, humankind’s first deity, our most ancient memory.” It is Madalene’s reluctant encounter with the Dark Mother and how She leads to that special place where one can hear the singing of swans that form the crux of this story.

Saracino deftly takes the reader between times and weaves the stories of several women tied together in a line that calls to Madalene, though she fights the call, certain that she must, quite simply, be going bonkers.
Madalene, also known as Maddie, is frightened by and tries to avoid a mysterious bag lady who keeps stopping her on the street and asking her if she has a match. Maddie is also having strange dreams she doesn’t understand or want. Dreams “…full of women who said and did strange, unpredictable things: women of magic who flew through the air, walked through walls, and defied the laws of nature in countless ways. Women who concocted liniments and teas from strange and unusual plants. Women who chanted weird songs and cradled terra cotta statues in their hands; women who screamed in stonewalled courtyards in a countryside of rolling hills and fields filled with wild, red poppies — a landscape Madalene did not recognize.”
As a “sensible” workaholic with no social life, she dismisses the dreams as “something she ate” until the bag lady accosts her one too many times and says, “My daughter, do not be concerned with all that you are seeing with your dream eyes. They are coming for you. Your sisters are returning. Your Mother wants to talk to you. Listen and you will know what to do.” Maddie has no intention of listening — to the crazy old woman or her dreams. But fate steps in and Maddie embarks on an unexpected journey to Sicily, carrying with her a small statue of a dark Madonna that was hidden away in her family’s mementos. While there, Madalene discovers many things about the place, the people and herself.
This is not just the story of Madalene Ross, however. The author does a wonderful job of painting a complete picture of the women who are Madalene’s “sisters.” We come to learn of each of the characters: their lives, thoughts, joys, fears and pain as if we’re right there with them, though they and Maddie are separated by time.
Saracino also manages to convey a message that resonates for us in the real present without the unwelcome preachiness that a less talented author might fall into. This is one of those rare, lovely works of fiction that touches on past injustices, ecology, healing and women’s spirituality, while managing to keep the reader engaged and entertained throughout.

The Feminist Review: The Singing of Swans; Review by Jeanne Winslow, The Feminist Review, March 21, 2007
Individualism. Capitalism. Survival. Of the fittest. These are values in our society that have evolved from the ideals taught in our mythologies. Historically, these mythologies have been male dominated and, in many cases, have been interpreted in ways designed to oppress certain groups – among them, women. Mary Saracino’s novel The Singing of Swans is a female-centered mythology focusing on the feminine divine, the Divine Mother.

The story revolves around Madalene Ross, a woman in contemporary society whose connections to those around her are tenuous at best. She lost her mother when she was a child, she has a poor relationship with her father and most of her friendships are work related. She discovers her spiritual connection to the past through dreams and an encounter with a homeless woman. Madalene is one in an ancient line of women: the Streghe, women with deep spiritual connections to the Divine Mother, who have been silenced by male dominated social structures, particularly the Catholic Church.

Saracino’s mythology gives a voice to women while also providing social commentary about oppressive forces throughout history. Woven through Madalene’s story are the stories of other Streghe: Ziza, Rosalina, Josephina, Ibla, and Magda, and their struggles to maintain their voice and their connections to the Divine Mother. Using the physical connection of blood ties – to our ancestors and Mother Earth – as well as spiritual ties, Saracino illustrates our sacred connection to the divine in nature and each other, woven as thread through a tapestry, to the past and the future.

While I occasionally enjoy a fun story in a nice, neat package, I truly appreciate those stories that leave me asking questions and searching within myself. How am I connected to all that has happened in the past and all that will happen in the future? We are not islands unto ourselves and Saracino shows our connections – how our pasts have shaped our world today and how we shape the future.

Story Circle Reviews: The Singing of Swans; Reviewed by Linda Wisniewski, Doylestown PA ; April 10, 2007

Mary Saracino’s novel, The Singing of Swans, is so chock full of goddess lore I am tempted to keep it for a reference book. The author has crammed her story with well-researched information about the Dark Mother, Cybele, or Demeter, who she calls “humankind’s first deity, and our most ancient memory.”

The story begins with Ziza, a woman who flies through the roof of her house on a night in September, 1575 and meets with other “keepers of the blood ways,” shamans, healers, herbalists and astral travelers. They are the Benandanti, and four times a year they leave their bodies to battle the Malandanti, their arch enemies, thus ensuring a bountiful harvest.

In the second chapter, we meet Madalene Ross, a workaholic software specialist in Minneapolis who smokes, drinks and is troubled by strange dreams of old women chanting and holding handfuls of herbs.

Soon she is stalked by a homeless woman who appears out of nowhere and tells Maddie “Your Mother wants to talk to you.” And then Madalene finds a note that says “Go to the Lake” written in her own handwriting.

In her closet, in a box her deceased mother saved for her, Maddie finds a notebook labeled “Rossolino Family Tree” and a small figure of the Virgin Mother with dark skin. Still troubled by disturbing dreams of women healers, Madalene suddenly loses her job in a corporate downsizing. She gives in to an overwhelming desire to travel to Pergusa, Italy, in search of her family’s roots.

Meanwhile, the author takes us back to the women of the Benandanti as they struggle through the years. The leaders of the Catholic Church try to demolish their traditions and force them to conform to church teachings. Some of their tactics are violent, but the women persevere. In secret, they keep their worship of the Dark Mother alive. She is called the Black Madonna by all who join them, accepting her as the virgin mother of Jesus, which the church allows. But in secret, they worship her as the Divine She, a deity in her own right.

I first learned about the Black Madonna as a child, when I saw a painting of her in my Polish Catholic church. I was told that in the original painting in Czestochowa, Poland, her skin was blackened in a fire. Imagine my surprise and joy to discover, as an adult woman, that her image is older than the Church and can be found throughout the world. Most recently, I visited another Black Madonna in a four-hundred-year old church in Puerto Rico, and was told her skin was darkened by the sun.
Back in the present time, Madalene arrives in Pergusa and finds the lake is dying from pollution. She meets an eco-feminist working to save the lake.

In a dream, she meets Ziza and the other ancient women, learns about the long tradition of the Dark Mother and talks with her own mother, who urges her to use her intuition, which she has always ignored, as well as her brain.

Madalene realizes what she needs is to reclaim her self, in all its complexity, just as others are reclaiming Lake Pergusa. For me, she is a stand-in for women as a whole, throughout history, especially in times of patriarchy. Saracino is realistic in her portrayal of the violence of women’s struggle for personal power and self-determination in ancient times. We would do well to remember this and realize that even today, voiceless women suffer at the hands of male-dominated societies around the world, a story we don’t often see on the evening news.

Without being heavy-handed or taking political sides, Saracino educates the reader about women’s spirituality, herbalism and Italian culture and traditions, while keeping us turning the pages, rooting for Madalene and following her adventures to the conclusion.

Reviewed by Chickie Farella, Multimedia Artist; Godthemother.com

Gotta match? Pffft! I doubt it. In fact I’d be hard pressed to find another novel that explicitly teaches the concept of the female side of God, or The Divine Feminine, we have not been allowed to know, such as The Singing of Swans by Mary Saracino.

By using the backdrop of her uncanny highly detailed level of scholarship, combining dramatic creative storytelling, get ready for the Her-story-agricultural spiritual lesson of your life! Dragging the reader, through earth, wind, fire and waters, from the north, to the south of Italy, one ultimately stops for a dip and a short swim to the island of Sicily. Saracino will slap you belly down, digging and crawling into the earth like a determined canine or perhaps a skunk searching for the treasures he/she knows are waiting to be discovered, as she rattles our cage of truth. (whether we like it or not:)

Earth: Get ready to see, feel, touch and smell the ancient fragrances of lemons, olive groves, poppies, violets, Rosamaria bushes along with her countless healing herbal brothers and sisters. Finally we learn how these ancient peacekeeper women healers of compassion and unconditional love, took our great mother earth’s abundances and pestled plants into curatives into the form of potions, ointments, curing everything from snake bites to depression in their respective neighborhoods. Presently, the closest we’ve come to remotely relating to this kind of healing and compassion hundreds of years ago, are those of us who arrived on the planet before 1960 when the family physician made house calls, sported a black leather tote filled with pharmaceuticals. This was a time period marking the segue from healing to a multibillion dollar chemical business of human destruction.

At this point, forgive me if I bore you with science. For there is another side of this story, and I highly recommend the reader to be sure your cardio vascular system is in shape before you read.

Wind: Ever take a stalk of fennel, shove it between your legs and transform it into a fuel injected broom? Never say never and do enjoy the super flight high up the night sky, as you get to mirror your shadow against the full moon with your ancestors! Sounds like fun? Perhaps at first. However the saying, “Women’s work is never done,” begins right here!

When the day of tending the fields, cooking, feeding and concocting curatives for ancient locals, these “Benandanti” women and men flew into the night sky guarding their fields and fighting off the spiritual negativity of the “Malandanti” who “chose ill-will and mischief over communal prosperity and harmony. They sought personal gain, not collective wealth.” Here we learn of the blurred melding of Catholicism and the persistence of the old ways of the pre Christian rituals. We experience the grueling persecutions, tortures, silencing and stealing of women healers’ traditions by the beginnings of the dominant faction.

Bored with my excavation of Antiquity? Not to worry. Saracino effectively creates the marriage of antiquity and modernity through her left brained corporation computer burn out character, Madalene Ross. Call me crazy, but I can’t deny that SOS left brained Madalene feels like the millennium version of the 70`s Mary Tyler Moore. Yet MTM’s right brained character was a writer, shared feelings with all the characters and she even had an astrologer, her best friend, Rhoda Morgenstern, (Valerie Harper) Today’s SOS Madalene’s new best friend, actually her only best friend is Julia, who takes her under her wings in Sicily, assisting her in deciphering the messages that haunts Madalene’s dreams. This relationship is delicately similar as Rhoda was always there to share some astrological wisdom when MTM needed spiritual assistance.

Remember how MTM flung her beret high in the sky only to be silenced by the freeze frame at the end of the weekly opening and closing themes? It just so happens that there is a reoccurring image of a beret in Madalene’s story, however no freeze frame allowed in this version! Here trickster Saracino tags that beret as a metaphor connecting the past with the future. whether Madalene likes it or not. She wakes up to her suppressed right brain of creativity, unconditional love, and justice with compassion. She finds out who she is and the enormous possibilities of who she can become, through an ancient spiritual force. This enormous spiritual ancestral force interrupts her dreams, her lunch breaks and howls like a wolf in her in office parking garage in beloved Mary Tyler Moore’s Minneapolis, City of the Lakes! This force spins her out of control of her utterly “in control” world that’s is about to remove her from their list of paychecks!!

Now at this point I can give you a list of scholars to confirm this work such as Dr. Lucia Chiavola Birnbaum, Lawrence DiStasi, and a host of others including the reviewers on the back of her book. Nor can I forget Madalene’s friend, Julia who states, “History has been written by the conqueror.” Though I’ve sported 12 years of Catholic education, my feminine spiritual studies have forced me to uncheck a few of the boxes the CEO’s of the Vatican forced me to sign at a very young age.

Water: Saracino’s ancient character Ziza in 1550 A.D gazed at the walls of the frescoes of so called heretic Santa Lucia’s Chiesa. That said, I came into this world with multi visual challenges. I adopted Santa Lucia who encompasses the old with the new, who plucked out her eyes in exchange for her virginity and gave up wealth by feeding the poor and curing the blind. In my own work I have repeatedly written that the physical body of Santa Lucia should sail back to her mother island, Sicily that was stolen in the Fourth Crusade. Today, I say there is more than a message in “SOS” that meets the eye. Through Mary Saracino, Santa Lucia has spiritually returned to the present chaotic planet by giving us vision and light for a better future by feeding us poor of heart the truth!

Fire: Sooo if ya “Gotta match,” after reading this novel teaching tool to future balance, I urge you to share it with the rest of us, whether your roots stem from Mexico, Ireland, Asia or Australia. The truth of She is everywhere! In my opinion, for humanity to survive, we are in desperate need of an abundance of these stories. I say Bring `em on! And if I may hark back to the MTM theme song, written and performed by Sonny Curtis, I say to Mary Saracino.

Love is all around, no need to waste it
You’re gonna make it after all

I hope the film of a lifetime!

SHE IS EVERYWHERE: AN ANTHOLOGY OF WRITINGS IN WOMANIST/FEMINIST SPIRITUALITY, VOLUME 3

(Review) Anthology: She Is Everywhere, Volume 3 Judith Laura; (Review) Anthology: She Is Everywhere, Volume 3 Review by Judith Laura – Return to Mago E*Magazine (magoism.net)

She Is Everywhere! An Anthology of Writings in Womanist/Feminist Spirituality, Volume 3. Gathered by Mary Saracino and Mary Beth Moser (iUniverse 2012), 460 pages. Available in softcover, hardcover, and as an e-book.

She Is Everywhere! Volume 3 combines essays of significant scholarship with poetry, fiction, and art of deep inspiration. This volume focuses on the international community of people who honor the divine or sacred as female. Its contents contain articles not only from many different nationalities, but also from a variety of cultures and religions.

In alphabetical order by last name of contributor, this volume includes: Laura Amazzone, “The Fijian Kava Ceremony: An Ancient Menstrual Ritual?”; Michele Arista, “A Midrash of Rosary Prayers”; Gael Belden, “Soror Mystica: New Myth for a Changing Earth”; Lucia Chiavola Birnbaum, “Story, gifts, standpoint, and methodologies of feminist cultural history”; Nancy Caronia, “Underworld”; Giana Cicchelli, “Journey to the Center,” “In the Name of Jesus,” and “Resounding Response”; Joanna Clapps-Herman, “Psychic Arrangements” and “Potions, Lotions and Solutions”; Lori Coon, “The Dark Goddess”; Randy P. Conner, “Of Diana, Witches, and Fairies”; Nancy Cosgriff, “Hecate” and “Browned Beauty”; Elizabeth Cunningham, “Hymn to Ma of Ephesus” and “Ave Matres”; Max Dashu, “The Meanings of ‘Goddess’”; Leslene della-Madre, “The Luminous Dark Mother”; Chickie Farella, “I Love You Mom: Do Me a Favor… Don’t Tell Nobody”; Catlyn Fendler, “The Black Madonna and the Labyrinth”; Jean Feraca, “Crossing the Great Divide,” “Mater Dolorosa,” and “Nursing My Child Through His First Illness”; Annie Finch, “Goddess,” “Moon From the Porch,” and “Eve”; Mischa Geracoulis, “Secret Hair”; Tricia Grame, “Beyond The Symbol, VIII” and “Isis”; Mama Donna Henes, “Terra Mater” and “Holy Yoni”; Sheila Marie Hennessy, “Lilith” and “Contemplate Creation”; Theresa Gale Henson, “Finding Ixchel” and “Enough”; Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, “Making the Gyonocentric [sic] Case: Mago, the Great Goddess of East Asia, and Her Tradition Magoism”; Nané Ariadne Jordan, “A Poetics of the Placenta: Placental cosmology as gift and sacred economy”; Anne Key, “The Stuff of Life: Clay Figurines and Priestesses in Mesoamerica”; Lê Pham Lê, “The Fairy and the Dragon,” “Hát River,” and “Journey to Langbian Mountain”; Glenys Livingstone, “Spelling and Re-Creating Her”; Yvonne M. Lucia, “Black Madonna Cradles the Earth”; Lindy Lyman: “Mother and Daughter/The Forest”; Anne Key, “The Stuff of Life: Clay Figurines and Priestesses in Mesoamerica”; MamaCoAtl, “It is My Heart Who Reminds Me”; Nicole Margiasso-Tran, “Healing Wells and Sacred Fire”; Kathy Martone, “Rebirth” and “Gathering Forces”; Harita Meenee, “Orphic Mysteries and Goddess(es) of Nature: Greek Hymns Honoring the Divine Feminine”; Etoyla McKee, “Garden Okra”; Judy Millyard-Maselli, “Connected”; Mary Beth Moser, “The Motherline: Laundry, Lunedi, and Women’s Lineage”; Andrea Nicki, “Vagina Dentata”; Malgorzata Oleszkiewicz-Peralba, “Saint Sara-La-Kali: The Romani Black Madonna”; Luciana Percovich, “Momolina Marconi: An Italian Passionate Scholar of the Goddess”; Shelley R. Reed, “The Red Mother of the Salish Mountains”; Sandy Miranda Robinett, “Sardegnan Nuraghe”; Lydia Ruyle: Three Goddess Icon Spirit Banners: Crow Mother, Isis, Palden Lhamo”; Bridget Saracino, “Unfamiliar,” “Anubis,” and “Strawberry Lullaby”; Mary Saracino, “The Tarantata,” “Holy Mary,” and “Sicily”; Lisa Sarasohn, “Lisa & Zeb-un-Nissa” Kristin Shilling, “Puberty,” “The China Line,” and “Tendrils”; Elisabeth Sikie, “Descent,” “Tantra With Beloved,”and “Song to Demeter”; David Hatfield Sparks, “The Birth of Xochiquetzal at 948 Noe St.”; Solace Wales, “Messages from the Black Madonna”; Claudia von Werlhof, “The Interconnectedness of All Being: A New Spirituality for a New Civilization.”

The anthology contains fiction by Mary Saracino and poetry by Lori Coon, Elizabeth Cunningham, Annie Finch, Jean Feraca, Lê Pham Lê, MamaCoAtl, Judy Millyard-Maselli, Andrea Nicki, and Elisabeth Sikie. Art includes front cover “Black Madonna Cradles the Earth” by Yvonne M. Lucia and back cover “Contemplate Creation” by Sheila Marie Hennessy; interior art by Mary Beth Moser and Nicole Margiasso-Tran; original artwork by Tricia Grame, Lori Coon, Lydia Ruyle, Malgorzata Oleszkiewicz-Peralba, Kathy Martone, Theresa Gale Henson, Shelley R. Reed, Sandy Miranda Robinett, Chris Gordoni, Nané Adriadne Jordan, Lindy Lyman, Sheila Marie Hennessy, and Harita Meenee. A List of Illustrations at the beginning of the Table of Contents gives more information on the original media of the artwork.

An unusual statement on the copyright page explains the use of “gathered,” rather than “edited.”

The gatherers/editors of this anthology do not wish to define an author or define an author’s work by trying to make the text of this anthology consistent in style, grammar, punctuation, etc.

One of the challenges in reviewing anthologies is that usually the contributions are diverse in subject matter, approach, and style, while the number of contributions makes it impractical to review each one. This anthology is no exception. Yet I will try to give you an idea of the variety, breadth, and depth of its contents.

The opening essay, ” Healing Wells and Sacred Fire: A Pilgrimage to Brigit’s Land,” by Nicole Margiasso-Tran, is a personal story of the author’s journey to Kildare, Ireland, to celebrate the Pagan holiday Brigit/Imbolc and the Catholic Saints Day for St. Brigid with a community of nuns named “Solas Bhride,”which translated from the Celtic into English means “Brigit’s Light (or Flame).” The author also describes visiting Goddess Brigit’s holy places.
This is followed by Max Dashu’s global, scholarly, and for me, inspirational, essay, ” The Meanings of ‘Goddess’.” Dashu looks at a large number of female deities from a wide variety of cultures and historical periods, including the present. Pointing out the difficulties that some academics (including some feminist academics) and others have with the word and concepts associated with “Goddess,” Dashu asserts a wonderfully strong socio-political stance, stating:

The Goddess movement recognizes the political uses of male-supremacist religion, and undermines its dominionist foundations. We challenge theologies that make females stand for the “inferior” material realm, reduce us to sex, decree our submission to male privilege. We repudiate hierarchy of all kinds, including the demonization of matter, of bodies, of darkness in patriarchal religion. We recognize how the twisted ideas of diabolism not only degraded women in the witch hunts, and inculcated hateful ideas about human sexuality, but at the same time demonized dark peoples and indigenous religions.

In addition to “Goddess,” Dashu discusses the use of the word “Mother,” writing that, in many cultures,”Mother” is synonymous with “Goddess”; that in such cultures “Mother is a truly expansive concept, and a divine one.” She also also discusses the roles of ritual and metaphor.

Leslene della-Madre‘s essay,”The Luminous Dark Mother,” was sparked by her interest in “the true origins and beginnings of the spiritual life of humankind.” Della-Madre equates “Dark Mother” with “Great Mother,” and describes her own journeys to find out more about “the African Dark Mother and her relationship to the dark matter of the Universe” (which she also calls the “yoni-verse”). She goes on to relate the Dark Mother to several other scientific theories and discoveries, including for instance, multiple universes, as well as to social and political issues.

Anthology series founder Lucia Chiavola Birnbaum’s contribution to this volume, “Story, gifts, standpoint, and methodologies of feminist cultural history,” begins with her explanation about why she doesn’t like capitalization: primarily because it denotes hierarchy. From her usage in this essay, I conclude that this applies to adjectives denoting proper nouns (e.g. chinese food), but not to nouns (e.g. China). This is consistent with capitalization in Romance languages (e.g. French, Spanish, Italian). I’ve also observed that there are languages, such as those in what is today commonly called the Middle East, which don’t capitalize anything. It is unclear to me whether non-capitalization correlates with egalitarianism. OTOH, I like experimentation in language, so why not give it try? Birnbaum moves on to an “Author’s Note” about her transitioning from teaching in the Women’s Spirituality program at the California Institute of Integral Studies (CIIS) to another phase of her life…

She also explains that this essay is the “first” chapter of her forthcoming book. Birnbaum, whose ancestry is European Mediterranean, or more specifically, Sicilian, sees feminist cultural history as beginning “in 100,000 BCE in Africa.” Her current research focuses on relating this to areas now called Italy, France, and Spain. She then takes up, as an example of steps backward, the important issue of lack of publishers’ openness to work of spiritual feminist scholars, writing of her own experience with her earlier work that included: the many rejections at the end of the 1990s of my manuscript dark mother, african origins and grandmothers by white male editors in the United States, including two cases of acceptance by women editors at university presses subsequently reversed by white male editors.

Birnbaum then goes into detail about her academic background, affiliations, and awards. The essay concludes with a look at the significance of what she understands to be her African-Sicilian ancestry.

At the beginning of her essay, “Lisa & Zeb-un-Nissa,” Lisa Sarasohn writes:

She may be everywhere, but if she wants to tag me with clear directive, she’ll snag me at the library or in a book store… The books she chooses for me tip off the shelf, into my hands.

After telling us how the book by a 17th century Sufi poet came to her and giving details on its physical construction, Sarasohn shows us some of Zeb-un-Nissa’s poems and gives examples of how she, Sarasohn, recrafted them. She explains the ghazal form of poetry, which Zeb-un-Nissa ordered into a diwan, a series of groups of ghazals “ordered according to their rhyme.” This clearly and beautifully written essay makes what might be new material for some easily understandable. It is likely to be a particular favorite of those who love books and poetry.

In her scholarly essay about East Asian religion, Helen Hye-Sook Hwang writes that she coined the term “Magoism” to refer to “the organic structure that relates” diverse sources and materials from the ancient “gynocentric cultural and historical context of East Asia, which venerates Mago as supreme divine.” Magoism, she says, is both monotheistic and polytheistic. “Mago is the Great Goddess in her multiple manifestations.” The essay continues with a detailed description of Magoism.

Lydia Ruyle, whose many Goddess icon banners fly or have flown at libraries and other institutions and at conferences and celebrations, contributes the art and explanations for three of them: Crow Mother, the Hopi Mother of all katsinas (spirits); Isis, Great Mother of Egypt whose worship extends to many other areas, shown in this banner with her son Horus; and Palden Lhamo, “fierce protectress of Tibet and the Dalai Lama.” Ruyle writes:

The only thanka, prayer flag, which the Dalai Lama took with him when he fled the Chinese takeover of Tibet in 1959, was Palden Lhamo. Since then, she travels with him wherever he goes.

Malgorzata Oleszkiewicz-Peralba’s essay about “Saint Sara-La-Kali” begins with two quotes, regarding the relationship of blackness with light or radiance. Oleszkiewicz-Peralba then goes on to discuss the “black madonna” honored by many Romani (sometimes called Roma or the Rom, and sometimes called “gypsies,” a term generally considered incorrect by the Rom). The author says that Sara-La-Kali is “possibly a blend of the Catholic Virgin Mary and the Indian goddess Kali/Durga/Sara, and describes the yearly celebration of Sara-La-Kali in the French town of Les Saintes Maries de la Mer. She relates the possibly historical but at this point unverifiable story of Mary Magdalene arriving with family and friends by boat to southern France, discusses the role of the Cathars, and the long intermingling of Egyptian and French deity worship, takes a look at various theories and legends about the identity of the human Sara, and includes details of the Romani migration from India to Persia in 250-650 CE, and then through Europe, including 600 years of slavery in Romania. She notes that today, Sara-La-Kali’s “cult” persists not only in Europe but also in the Americas and Australia. The author describes the relationship of Sara-La-Kali to other goddesses who are nurturing, protectors of childbirth, and often located in grottos, caves, near or in the sea or other bodies of water. There are several photos the author took while visiting sites in France.

This essay is followed by a group of meditations by Solace Wales, inspired by visits to Black Madonna sites.

Anne Key’s essay, “The Stuff of Life: Clay Figurines and Priestesses in Mesoamerica,” examines the “gap” between the Mesoamerican artifacts and other materials she has seen at various sites in the field and Mesoamerican materials included in museum exhibits. She goes on to present what she has found to be the role of women spiritual leaders in Mesoamerica.

Laura Amazzone’s “The Fijian Kava Ceremony: An Ancient Menstrual Ritual?”explores the kava ceremony on Fiji, where the population is now predominantly Christian, but where there still remain remnants of a culture that included ancestor worship, spirit possession, and “ingestion of consciouness-altering substances,” of which kava is one. Amazzone writes that although kava is known to induce menstruation, today only men participate in the kava ceremony. She presents information and theory about whether this was always the case.

Mary Beth Moser likes to hang her laundered clothes to dry on a clothesline outdoors. “The Motherline” includes her remembrances of clotheslines past, combined with the honoring of the Goddess Tanit. There are photos of her Tanit clothesline and a sacred well she discusses in this essay.

Nané Ariadne Jordan, begins her essay, “A Poetics of the Placenta,” with a “Prelude” about her paternal grandmother. She then tells about her experience as a lay midwife/doula including the medical, symbolic, and possible ritual significance of the placenta and its possible uses after the baby is born. She also proposes a cosmology and economy based on the birth process.

Donna Henes’ essay, “Holy Yoni,” is a remarkable tour de source of sex in Goddess religions. Beginning with the metaphor of Earth as our mother, continuing through a discussion of the role of women in early “Earth-identified societies,” Henes goes on to discuss the significance of women’s primary and secondary sex characteristics in symbolism, language, architecture, ritual, and other aspects of a variety of Goddess-venerating cultures over the centuries.

Harita Meenee’s essay on “Orphic Mysteries and Goddesses” discusses the Orphic Hymns, a collection of 87 poems used in rituals of the Orphic Mysteries, in which goddesses were prominent. She speculates on the role of women in the Mysteries and then quotes the “Orphic Hymn to Nature.”

The book’s last essay, Glenys Livingstone’s “Spelling and Recreating Her,” begins:

“Goddess,” as I understand the term, is the Female Metaphor for the Great Creative Principle of the Universe. As such, She is both the Matrix and a wholistic template of Being: that is, She is whole and complete within Herself… there is no need to masculinize certain of Her qualities, though she includes qualities that have been termed “masculine.”

Livingstone defines the three aspects of Goddess as Virgin/Maiden, Mother/Creator, and Crone/Old One. She writes that they may be but are not necessarily limited by age association, and responds to those who maintain that three aspects are insufficient. She also discusses the Triple Spiral and its symbolism, as well as the symbolic and scientific role of the Moon. Livingstone then moves on to other thealogical and cosmological concepts, integrating science and thealogy as she draws from authors Thomas Berry and Brian Swimme. She also explores the meaning of body/embodiment, especially of the female body, and its relevance to the indigenous spirituality of Australia, where she lives.

The essays are footnoted or endnoted and have bibliographies.

She is Everywhere! Volume 3 is likely to be a valuable text for college courses in women’s studies, gender studies, religion, sociology, and probably some other subjects I haven’t thought of. I would also expect it to be useful in adult groups studying Goddess and other spiritual feminisms. It will also be useful to individuals studying on their own, especially those looking for material that cannot easily be found elsewhere. For more information on this book and other volumes in this anthology series, visit sheiseverywhere.net

This article was first published on Medusa Coils by Judith Laura.

Review: She Is Everywhere!

Reviewed by Hearth Moon Rising; Review: She Is Everywhere! | Hearth Moon Rising; May 25, 2012

She Is Everywhere! Volume 3: An Anthology of Writings in Womanist/Feminist Spirituality
Edited by Mary Saracino and Mary Beth Moser. Reviewed by Hearth Moon Rising; Review: She Is Everywhere! | Hearth Moon Rising; May 25, 2012

I had a chance to examine the pdf version of this volume and would recommend it to Goddess worshipers as well worth your time. The volume is quite large, over 400 pages, and contains a mixture of scholarly articles, political essays, personal experiences, poetry, fiction and art. Female divinities pagan and Christian from around the world are represented.

Several of the articles break new ground. Of particular note is “Of Diana, Witches, and Fairies” from Randy P. Conner’s forthcoming The Pagan Heart of the West. Conner examines evidence of a continuing pan-European worship of Diana (or a goddess identified with Diana) throughout the middle ages and into early modern times. This is important, as academic scholars in English speaking countries have for some decades considered Diana’s worship to have been completely eradicated by early Christianity.

Another groundbreaking selection is Helen Hye-Sook Hwang’s “Making the Gynocentric Case: Mago, the Great Goddess of East Asia and Her Tradition Magoism.” Hwang’s presentation of Mago will likely challenge perceptions of Asian goddess worship which are built around the popular deities Kwan Yin and Amaterasu.

Laura Amazzone makes a good case for kava plant ceremonies originating as menstural rituals in “The Fijian Kava Ceremony: An Ancient Menstrual Ritual?”

The affinity of the Romani for Saint Sara is explored by Malgorzata Oleszkiewicz-Peralba in “Saint Sara-La-Kali: The Romani Black Madonna.” This article will intrigue those interested in the Black Madonna, pagan elements of Christianity, Romani spirituality, the Cathars and the goddess Kali.

Max Dashu’s “The Meanings of ‘Goddess’” discusses the ways that goddess worship has been invalidated or erased in patriarchies to the present day, and her broad knowledge base and accessible writing style make this a good article to save for future reference. She also discusses the reverence for maternal divinity in spiritual practices not usually considered goddess-based.

I was less impressed with Lucia Chiavola Birnbaum’s “Story, gifts, standpoint, and methodologies of feminist cultural history,” in which she recounts her journey to write dark mother: african origins and godmothers. Perhaps if I had read this book, I would have found her narrative more compelling. Leslene della-Madre in “The Luminous Dark Mother” discusses Birnbaum’s work in more depth, but both of these articles left me unconvinced about the African goddess-source theory. The idea that homo sapiens sapiens originated in southeast Africa and first spread out from that region about 70,000 years ago is now widely accepted, and the possibility of tracing a common religious thread to this time period is tantalizing, especially given the similarities of earth-based religions the world over. Yet no evidence or even convincing conjecture for a proto-typical African goddess is present in either of these articles. Della-Madre’s discussion of the goddess Isis adds nothing to the theory, since Isis is a once obscure goddess who rose to prominence during a period of heavy Greek influence. Basing an African religious genesis model on Egypt might be plausible, given that the long historical record shows Egyptian religion to have been highly conservative, yet early Egyptian religion was based on animal worship and ancestor reverence, with anthropomorphic deities emerging over time. This is echoed elsewhere in Africa and in Asia and Europe by the heavy animal emphasis in paleolithic cave and rock art, including the earliest rock art from the Har Karkom site in Israel on which Birnbaum bases part of her theory. The archeological and anthropological research that I’m aware of places the emergence of widespread goddess icons long after the first diaspora. Africa may have significantly influenced the evolution of goddess worship, but with Africa itself being influenced by Asia and Europe by this time, it must be considered a co-creator of goddess religion rather than a source.

I did not care for Claudia von Werlhof’s “The Interconnectedness of All Being: A New Spirituality for a New Civilization.” Von Werlhof brought up anti-globalization early in her essay, yet despite the exigency of the issue her subsequent analysis was rambling, lacked cohesiveness and did not offer concrete solutions. The transcendentalists delineated a theory of interconnectedness that was much more coherent, and they were also more effective at relating this theory to the politics of the day. Nonetheless I take the presence of this article as an encouraging glimmer of hope that academics are moving away from the travesty that is postmodern philosophy and political theory.

I most enjoyed the experiential narratives of women connecting with their feminine divinity. Nicole Margiasso-Tran talks about the worship of Brigit in Ireland today in “Healing Wells and Sacred Fire: A Pilgrimage to Brigit’s Land.” Mischa Geracoulis talks about her body hair in “Secret Hair: A Postmodern Self-portrait in Words.” Joanna Clapps-Herman describes her grandmother’s confrontation with abuse of religious authority in “Lotions, Potions and Solutions.”

One other jewel in this volume is a translation by Harita Meenee of the “Orphic Hymn to Nature.” This is a wonderful invocation to the Goddess that can be easily incorporated in ritual.

NO MATTER WHAT

Amazon.com customer review
This book was a real page turner. It’s a powerful read with interesting characters. The story is well written and it’s told from the perspective of a ten-year old girl. It’s a coming of age story, but it’s definitely an adult novel. The author’s sequel just came out this fall and I can’t wait to read it.

Amazon.com customer review
I picked up this book at Northwest Bookfest in Seattle last week because the author was there signing copies and I liked her. It is turning out to be a wonderful read. I find it hard to put down, too. The characters are exasperating but sympathetic, and I keep wondering what will happen to them.

Amazon.com customer review
I read this book in three days. Once I picked it up, I couldn’t put it down. Mary Saracino did a great job through the voice of a child named Peanut. It was original, and very explosive

FINDING GRACE

Publishers Weekly Finding Grace (publishersweekly.com)

Finding Grace; Mary Saracino. Spinsters Ink Books, $12 (240pp) ISBN 978-1-883523-33-6

Eleven-year-old Regina Giovanni, nicknamed Peanut, narrates Saracino’s emotionally heavy sequel to No Matter What, continuing the disturbing story of a fractured family. In 1967, Peanut’s mother, Marie, decides to run away with her long-time lover, former priest Patrick Shaughnessy, leaving her husband and two teenage sons in upstate New York, while taking her three daughters–Peanut, six-year-old Rosa and toddler Winnie. Peanut misses her religious dad; her brothers, Joey and Danny; and her beloved dog, Zoomer. She’s also figured out why Patrick dotes on Winnie and virtually ignores Rosa and herself: Patrick is Winnie’s father. The runaway family relocates to Madison, Wis., where emotional turmoil ensues. “”Sometimes things happen and you can’t stop them, ‘cuz everyone else is bigger and louder and madder than you are,” Peanut muses. Marie is miserable with guilt, and the news of Joey’s suicide pushes her over the edge. The girls’ father joins a monastery, which adds to their sense of defeat. And Patrick–who had promised that Madison would be “”Happy Town””–becomes increasingly hostile, critical and abusive. After he beats up Rosa, the two girls flee. Hoping to panhandle enough money to buy bus tickets back to their father, they get caught in a rainstorm, almost penniless. Freezing, wet and hungry, they are rescued by Grace, an elderly woman whose kindness and compassion teaches them valuable lessons and gives Peanut the chance to recognize and celebrate her own worth. Discovering her inner resources, she decides to resume her given name of Regina, because she is “”a fighter.”” Though many supporting characters remain sketchy and offstage, the headstrong protagonist’s valiant innocence, her heartbreaking loyalty and vulnerability and her clear, unassailable voice give this plainspoken story an affecting poignancy. Author tour. (Nov.)

Finding Grace (lesbianfunworld.com)

Finding Grace (lesbianfunworld.com)

The long-awaited sequel to Mary Saracino’s critically-acclaimed debut novel about the breakdown of a working-class, Italian-American family, 11-year-old Peanut Giovanni describes the explosive aftermath of her mother’s decision to take her three young daughters and run away with her lover–a priest–leaving her home, her marriage, and her two teenage sons behind. This is an unforgettable story of love, loss, grief, betrayal, and hope being torn apart at the seams.

Eleven-year-old Regina Giovanni, nicknamed Peanut, narrates Saracino’s emotionally heavy sequel to No Matter What, continuing the disturbing story of a fractured family. In 1967, Peanut’s mother, Marie, decides to run away with her long-time lover, former priest Patrick Shaughnessy, leaving her husband and two teenage sons in upstate New York, while taking her three daughtersAPeanut, six-year-old Rosa and toddler Winnie. Peanut misses her religious dad; her brothers, Joey and Danny; and her beloved dog, Zoomer. She’s also figured out why Patrick dotes on Winnie and virtually ignores Rosa and herself: Patrick is Winnie’s father. The runaway family relocates to Madison, Wis., where emotional turmoil ensues. ‘Sometimes things happen and you can’t stop them, ‘cuz everyone else is bigger and louder and madder than you are,’ Peanut muses. Marie is miserable with guilt, and the news of Joey’s suicide pushes her over the edge. The girls’ father joins a monastery, which adds to their sense of defeat. And PatrickAwho had promised that Madison would be ‘Happy Town’Abecomes increasingly hostile, critical and abusive. After he beats up Rosa, the two girls flee. Hoping to panhandle enough money to buy bus tickets back to their father, they get caught in a rainstorm, almost penniless. Freezing, wet and hungry, they are rescued by Grace, an elderly woman whose kindness and compassion teaches them valuable lessons and gives Peanut the chance to recognize and celebrate her own worth. Discovering her inner resources, she decides to resume her given name of Regina, because she is ‘a fighter.’ Though many supporting characters remain sketchy and offstage, the headstrong protagonist’s valiant innocence, her heartbreaking loyalty and vulnerability and her clear, unassailable voice give this plainspoken story an affecting poignancy. Author tour. (Nov.); Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.

School Library Journal; reviewed bt Carol DeAngelo, Kings Park Library, Burke, VA;Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.

YA-This sequel to No Matter What (Spinsters Ink, 1993) stands on its own. Eleven-year-old Regina Giovanni, known as Peanut, tells of leaving New York with her two sisters, her mother Marie, and her mother’s boyfriend, Patrick, who has just left the priesthood. Marie has deserted her husband and two young teenaged sons to begin a new life with Patrick in Wisconsin. Peanut is wise beyond her years and through her, readers begin to understand that though Marie loves her children, she is weak and selfish. The girl realizes that her youngest sister is Patrick’s daughter and the real impetus behind the frenzied escape from New York. When one of the brothers left behind suddenly dies, this patched-together family pulls apart. Patrick’s underlying meanness comes to the surface in a violent manner that frightens Peanut and injures her sister Rosa, and they run away. Huddled in a bus shelter, cold, wet, hungry, and frightened, Peanut and Rosa are found by Grace, an older woman with a sad history of her own. Staying with her is the respite the girls need in order to go back and face their lives in Madison. Their absence frightens Marie enough to take a realistic look at the life she has created, and, finally, to do something about it. This is a wonderful tale of love, sadness, and, eventually, hope. It is a gripping novel of a family being ripped apart and coming together again, different but stronger and more able to endure.

Goodreads

Finding Grace by Mary Saracino | Goodreads

4.14; 7 ratings; 3 reviews

In this sequel to Mary Saracino’s debut novel, No Matter What, 11-year-old Peanut Giovanni describes the explosive aftermath of her mother’s decision to run away with her lover, a priest – taking her three young daughters with her and leaving her home, her marriage, and her two teenaged sons behind.
From the beginning, it is clear to Peanut that her mother has made a terrible mistake. The idyllic life in “Happy Town” and harmonious family Marie Giovanni had envisioned does not materialize. Instead, tragedy further devastates the Giovanni family, undermining the already-turbulent relationship between Marie and her lover. Seeking to escape an intolerable situation and be reunited with her father, Peanut finds Grace – both literally and figuratively. Memories of Grace give Peanut strength to separate herself from her mother’s needs and to forge her own identity as Regina Giovanni.

280 pages, Paperback; First published October 1, 1999

Endnotes Finding Grace Summary – eNotes.com

In her debut novel, No Matter What (1993), Mary Saracino examined the effects of a disintegrating marriage on a ten-year-old girl, “Peanut” Giovani, and her four siblings. Finding Grace continues the story, picking up where No Matter What left off: It is November, 1966. Peanut’s mother has finally taken her three daughters and run off with her lover, Patrick, a Roman Catholic priest and father of the youngest girl. They plan to forge a new life in a new city, but their dreams of happiness are doomed from the beginning. The mother is absorbed by guilt at having left behind her two teenage sons, and it soon becomes obvious that Patrick has no intention of keeping his promise to send for the boys once the family is settled. Soon, Patrick turns cruel and violent, Peanut’s mother sinks into a deep depression, and Peanut is forced to assume full-time adult responsibility. Not only must she care for her sisters and manage much of the housework, but she must also provide emotional support for her mother. The burden is nearly overwhelming, but in the end Peanut will find Grace, a kind and understanding woman who will give her the boost she needs to free herself from her mother’s destructive grasp.

Scripting a narrative from a child’s point-of-view is always a balancing act between oversimplification and over-sophistication, and Finding Grace totters in both directions. On the one hand, key characters lack depth, and events and actions are predictable; on the other hand, Peanut and her six-year-old sister carry on grown-up conversations. But these weaknesses are easily overlooked. Peanut’s story is riveting and the novel reveals in compelling ways the damage adult failing can have on children.

VOICES OF THE SOFT-BELLIED WARRIOR

Rocky Mountain News Review
“Saracino’s gift of clarity, unflinching honesty and fine turn of phrase…will captivate readers.” —
Joan Hinkemeyer, Rocky Mountain News — Rocky Mountain News, October 5, 2001, page 30D

Amazon.com Customer Review
Mary Saracino takes readers on a very candid, sensitive, and creative journey through the healing process told through her personal accounts, journal entries and dreams, as well as through descriptions of her artwork. A must-read if you are a survivor of tragedy or abuse, if you care about a survivor, or if you are a compassionate advocate or healing professional.

Writers, visual artists, and other creatives will also find this a fascinating memoir for understanding the creative process and how we use our personal stories of tragedy and triumph to make art.

Beyond that, Voices of the Soft-bellied Warrior provides a good overview of traditional and alternative healing approaches, and makes a solid case for a holistic blending and balancing of the two.

This writer tells a compelling story, allowing herself to be vulnerable, yet keeping her writing crisp and sharp. I never once felt the emotional manipulation associated with many books and especially movies of this genre. Mary Saracino confronts some truly sensitive issues with honesty, literally holding up a mirror as she grows through the healing process, but also with professionalism and respect for the reader. After reading this book, I want to read more of her work. — D. M. Solis