Skip to main content

Cutting For Stone

I stayed up way too late last night finishing the book Cutting For Stone by Abraham Verghese. I liked it. But I wouldn't actually recommend it to anyone I personally knew because they might be all why did she want me to read THIS book? There's a lot of gross descriptive surgery scenes. And whores. A lot of sex with whores. But not a whole lot. Just a little bit, you know? But someone who might be a tad uptight might think that's just three whores too many, you know?

I had to finish it because I have to start our next book club book called The Kitchen House by Kathleen Grissom (no relation to CSI's Dr. Gil Grissom) before Book Club actually meets. And also because I just bought seven books from the library sale for a dollar. I may have to take a week off of work just to catch up on my reading.

As you can see I was being practically forced to stay up late reading - and it totally worked out because Big V was not even home. This is important for pleasant reading experience achievement because sometimes he likes to purposely interrupt my reading by attempting to draw me into conversations by saying stupid things like did you remember to make my lunch? You don't have to; I just thought it would be nice if you did or I can't believe [insert sports player name I've never heard of] just [insert sports related action which basically means the guy missed whatever he was supposed to do].

Meanwhile I'm fighting the urge to snap you never want to talk to me when we're having sex so why should I talk to you now when I'm reading?

Anyway. I read. And I read. And I read. And just when I thought I got to the part where they all live happily ever after I turned the page and realized the author had kept writing. As I thumbed through the remaining pages I thought how many chapters does this guy need to write 'and they all lived happily ever after'?

Except guess what?

[spoiler alert]

THEY DON'T LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER!

They don't live happily ever after at all. And I start crying. Like really crying. Tears streaming down my cheeks because I did not see that coming! And also, I do have a sense of compassion even though the majority of the people in the world would bet their paycheck that I didn't. And tears are dripping off my face and I'm sniffling and snorting (don't judge; like you've never ugly-cried before) and Big V comes bopping into the bedroom and starts yapping about how he just got home and he's probably going to take a shower because he's covered in grout and - hey, are you crying?

Yes, as a matter of fact, I am crying! What's it to you?

Why?

Why what?

Why are you crying? Is something the matter? What happened?

It's the book!

The book? The one you're reading?

What?

That book is making you cry?

Yes!

See, this is why I don't read. Literature can hurt.

(Oh, yes, but I wouldn't want it any other way.)



"You are an instrument of God. Don't leave the instrument sitting in its case, my son. Play! Leave no part of your instrument unexplored. Why settle for 'Three Blind Mice' when you can play the 'Gloria'?"  - Cutting For Stone

Comments

Johi said…
I think our husbands might be related. I also might need to read Cutting for Stone.
Tina, said…
Okay, I clicked "post a comment" and then forgot what I was going to comment as soon as the screen popped up. It was something about the "take your instrument out" and the whores.

But now as I sit and think about all that put together it sounds almost Xrated.

It isn't all descriptive about the sex is it? Just brief "and they did it" kind of text...I prefer not to read ALL the details, just give me the general idea.

abara
ouroodgr
Ellen said…
Glad you were able to finish the book...I still really like that book and have my husband reading right now. I don't know if he will like it or not. It was a heavy book but just made you think all different ways. I don't the new book you are going to read...I'll check it out.
HeatherB said…
Looks like I have a new book to add to my reading list. So happy.

And I love when a book makes you ugly cry - it means that the author is doing what we pay them for (take us into the story). :)

Kinda like you, 'cept you never make me ugly cry, just choke on whatever I am eating/drinking at the moment.
Brenna said…
I cry at the end of books all the time. Sometimes I just cry because I'm going to miss the characters. So even though you spoiled the hell out of this one and said you wouldn't even recommend it, I'm going to Kindle it.
FabBecky said…
Seriously, the more of your stuff I read, the more I think we are exactly alike and wish we could be best friends. But you know, not in a crazy stalker girl kind of way. :)

Popular posts from this blog

The House that God Built

in·stan·ta·ne·ous /ˌinstənˈtānēəs/ adjective 1. occurring or done in an instant or instantly.
synonyms: immediate, instant, on-the-spot







The thing is, she died so sudden.
I didn't have the chance to plead with God, to make all the irrational promises. If he would just let her be okay.... I would start taking better care of my health. I would be nicer to the neighbor that drove me crazy. I would always let someone else go in front of me at Walmart no matter how long the line was. I wouldn't complain. Ever. I would volunteer at the Homeless Shelter. I would clean up after pigs. I would clip the toenails of the elderly. I would do anything and everything He would ask me to do....
There is a box on her death certificate that captures the amount of time between the initial injury and the time of death. It reads "seconds." I wish it read "instantaneous" because she deserves a clever word like that.
Fast forward five years.... definitely taking MUCH longer than "…

Seeing Avery All Grown Up

One day I'll tell you about the freezing cold we left and the heavy bags we lugged, full of supplies and medicines. I'll tell you about arriving in Port au Prince and walking across a cracked concrete parking lot to board an old school bus with a flat tire. How the heat was suffocating after months of below zero Wisconsin winter weather, how the people crowded and walked too close to moving traffic as we searched for a tire shop that was barely more than a couple men sitting on overturned 5-gallon buckets on the side of the road next to a pile of old tires, everything covered in dirt.

I'll tell you about waiting on the bus while they removed the tire and I'll recall the loud explosion that rocked the bus and scared the life out of me and how I was relieved to learn it was just the tire blowing after being filled too far. (They didn't have any gauges.) And then I'll tell you about the fear I felt when I realized we didn't have a tire and we were stuck on th…

When Your Imagined Life is Nothing Like This One

There were so many ways I imagined my adult life would be....THIS is not one of them.
I posted that on my Facebook wall last night. It might have been seen as funny except my choice of hashtags gave me away:
treading water getting nowhere piles of disappointment not many successes worn out and exhausted out of options

I always imagined my life would be thrilling. Full of exciting adventures and people from all over the world. I would dine at Ethiopian, Thai, and Indian restaurants. I would write books, teach English, coach forensics and direct the play. My husband would be charming and funny and not care about gender roles when it came to household chores. He would beg for at least six kids and I would fall in love with him all over again each time I caught him giving good life advice.
I would take photographs and travel the world documenting the people I came across. I would adopt a sibling group of three or maybe four and work on foster care policies because the ones we have aren't work…