Listen on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and Google Podcasts. 
 

Book synergy abounds with two titles that explore the sometimes dark, sometimes funny, sometimes supernatural relationship between parents and children. Plus, a listener question about "leisure reading" proves to be more complicated than it first seems. 

This week's books:

Lanny by Max Porter

 

A Life's Work: On Becoming a Mother by Rachel Cusk

Tell us what everybody's talking about in your world of books and libraries, and suggest some Hot Topix(TM) of your own! Send an email or voice memo to podcasts[at]nypl.org .

---

How to listen to The Librarian Is In

Subscribing to The Librarian Is In on your mobile device is the easiest way to make sure you never miss an episode. Episodes will automatically download to your device, and be ready for listening every other Thursday morning

On your iPhone or iPad:
Open the purple “Podcasts” app that’s preloaded on your phone. If you’re reading this on your device, tap this link to go straight to the show and click “Subscribe.” You can also tap the magnifying glass in the app and search for “The New York Public Library Podcast.”

On your Android phone or tablet:
Open the orange “Play Music” app that’s preloaded on your device. If you’re reading this on your device, click this link to go straight to the show and click “Subscribe.” You can also tap the magnifying glass icon and search for “The New York Public Library Podcast.” 

Or if you have another preferred podcast player, you can find “The New York Public Library Podcast” there. (Here’s the RSS feed.)

From a desktop or laptop:
Click the “play” button above to start the show. Make sure to keep that window open on your browser if you’re doing other things, or else the audio will stop. You can always find the latest episode at nypl.org/podcast.

 

Transcript

 

[ Music ]

>> Hey, welcome to the Librarian's Inn, the New York Public Library's podcast about books, sometimes culture, and always what to read next, I am Frank.

>> I'm Gwen. How was it? Was it a good Scottish accent?

>> She's trying to do a Scottish accent.

>> I was thinking freedom now, which is really--

>> Freedom now. Don't insult the entire Scottish--

>> I know.

>> Population.

>> I know.

>> Because we got an email from someone in Scotland.

>> Yes.

>> A listener, who gave us a discussion point, hot topic, something to think about something to talk about. And we're going to have our producer read it. So, you can hear a voice other than our own.

>> Hello, Frank and Gwen, one of my friends finds it very hard to just leisure reading time in his life. And the way he squares it in his mind is to gamify it by setting tasks or goals, such as read 10 books over the summer, or read through the alphabet by author or title. I, however, just sit down and read with a pot of tea. But sometimes I feel guilty for spending an evening doing that when there are other things to do. How do you define leisure reading? And do you have to create a framework for reading or justify its place in your life? How do you define leisure reading? And do you have to create a framework to justify its place in your life?

>> I think there are a couple things going on in this question. And I fear -- this comment and I feel like maybe it's worth separating them out for a second. Because I think one of them is gamified reading and then one of them is reading a word the leisure time activity and how do you make time for--

>> One of her friends finds it very hard--

>> Right.

>> To justify leisure, reading time, so he gamifies It

>> Right.

>> She doesn't do it.

>> I'm not sure that game gamifying -- I'm not sure that gamifying necessarily changes anything about it. But I think there is sort of a group of people who love to gamify their reading and then a group of people who don't like people who love reading challenges, they read harder challenge, the Goodreads challenge where you have to read a certain number of books, you know, in a year. I've challenged myself to like have a whole year where I only read authors who are women or authors of color. Like I like that kind of gamifying reading to a point. Even committee reading actually, which for years made up a lot of the reading that I did--

>> Right.

>> Is almost gamify it, because you're reading solely in one specific thing and you have a goal in mind, there's a destination. But I do not think that creating a goal or gamify and reading or whatever makes it any more or less of a valid or important pastime. Do you?

>> Wait, say that again? No.

>> My whip -- my whip sharp mind can't--

>> No. I'm just thinking about what's going on in this comment. First of all, I don't think reading -- there's anything -- I don't -- leisure reading doesn't mean anything to me for the phrase. It's like when I read, I feel like I'm doing something far more genuine than whenever I'm doing -- watching TV or watching a show or pottering about or--

>> Okay, wait, I'm going to push back against that for a second.

>> Okay.

>> Because I do think that our society has this tendency to like police reading above all else, and I--

>> Clearly not.

>> Well, this person doesn't. But what you just said, I feel like most people this question is unusual, because I feel like most people are like, god, I'm really like, I'm binge watching "Fleabag" for the second time. And now I feel like it's not worth my time. And I really should be reading. And like, I really don't like it when people draw divisions between kinds of entertainment like that. Like the whole thing about our books, broccoli, or ice cream, like their ice cream, of course -- and, so I think there's -- again, there's multiple things going on. It's like, there's -- you should absolutely be spending your leisure time reading for sure. And of course, you shouldn't feel guilty about doing that. But I also think you should not be feeling guilty for watching TV and knitting and boring board games with your friends.

>> I'm going to push back on that, because I feel like when you just -- I feel like it's not quite that. I don't think that reading is held in estimation above all other activities.

>> Really?

>> Maybe in a sort of egg heady, old school jokey way, like, yeah, well, I should read more blah, blah, blah. But the -- just by the fact that binge watching is like in the dictionary and has become a thing -- and even people say it's slightly -- people say it's slightly ashamed, but not -- but sorry, not sorry.

>> Really?

>> Yeah, because binge watching is a thing. It's using commercials--

>> But I think it's actual guilt. I think that's because people are like, how did I just spend seven hours watching "Riverdale".

>> Might have elements of guilt in it. But it's such an approved thing that we all acknowledge one does that it's not, that it's all right. But my guess -- my point there too, is that the act of reading has not become a thing. It hasn't become like there isn't a catchphrase like binge watching for reading. There isn't anything like this. I never -- I really don't think it actually has achieved maybe in a rarefied way that some people think that reading is something that they should do to make their minds better. But I don't think it's become a cultural thing that's truly in trend.

>> No, but that's what I mean is people feel like they should do it to make their minds better. And so therefore, it isn't like something like binge watching, which only has that name because people feel guilty and bad about it.

>> I feel like there's this thing that's emerged through social media that -- is that guilty not guilty. Sorry, not sorry thing. Like I think when people say, I just binge watch eight episodes. I don't take it as like a true shame. I take it as a like, as a sort of pose -- a little bit of a pose of like, you know, I'm so ashamed, but not really, but not really. Like guilty not guilty, you know, enjoyed it. But no -- it's I could do other things. That's also what I'm picking up here about, like what I would -- actually, I'm not -- I don't want to slam this about, like, I know there's other things to do. I don't know what this person's life is about.

>> Yeah.

>> She -- I keep saying she, is it a she?

>> I don't think we have a name here.

>> He or she could -- they might have some serious things. But like -- and I don't mean it like I didn't -- I don't mean reading is like, I am so virtuous. And I am so extremely rigorous. I swear to God, I read -- I like reading books. Sometimes I'm just like, I fade away, and I've realized I've gone through a paragraph and I don't even know what I'm reading anymore. But to me what it is about, and I was thinking about this on the way here today, which is funny as usual. I say that, because it's a moment of reflection. It's a moment of calm, it's a moment of, hopefully, focus. It's a moment of things that don't exist in other parts of my day, or one's day--

>> If the question--

>> Is a very person--

>> Yeah.

>> So, something -- this is a question -- this is what I brought up before. Why? Why juxtapose reading with -- or correlate reading with feeling guilty and juxtapose it against other things to do. Like reading to me is not other thing -- is not less important. It's like very important.

>> Yeah. Do you think though that maybe, they mean--

>> For one's soul, for one's head.

>> I think maybe they mean reading anything they want, like leisure reading as in just anything that strikes their fancy versus reading with a goal or task in mind. That's that was my initial feeling when I first read this. And that was the question that I sort of came in prepared to answer before we kind like went off on this was that like, you do not have to read with a goal in mind in order to make reading. Important. However, I will say as someone who does sometimes, like gamifying, I don't -- I'm not big on the goals either. But things like the read harder challenge or the reading only authors of color, whatever that in my mind was to stretch my own boundaries and open up my own horizons. And that I do think is worthy. And if you are a really serious reader who really loves reading, I do think that it can be worthy to sometimes try to push yourself out of your comfort zone sometimes, sometimes, of where I've just said like 45 times. But there's sometimes when you want to just sit down with your tea and do your leisure reading. And that's great. There's sometimes that I do think it's good for you to go a little bit above and beyond what you're comfortable with. And that's really great, too.

>> Well, it does segue into what we talked about since the beginning of this podcast versus the shaming.

>> Yeah, yeah.

>> Like don't shame. There's no shame.

>> Right

>>. But that guiltiness like, drives me crazy.

>> Yeah, don't -- dear questioner, don't do it.

>> About -- well, this is what we went off before about the which -- what guilt is more real, the reading guilt or the binge-watching guilt?

>> Right, right.

>> Or are they both as real and just different personalities?

>> I really think that people feel more guilty about TV.

>> I don't know, I just think that the act of reading -- I mean, also, dare I say, the idea of libraries has always had a little bit of friction from the general populace, shall we say, as being better than like, libraries and books are -- because I don't read them or by taking them are better than me. And I'm less than--

>> Exactly. Then it, but then it overcompensates. And yet, I just think that's--

>> And I think that sometimes it's set up from childhood is that way to that, like, you're not assigned to watch TV over the summer, but you have to read over the summer, and it's presented as broccoli, as this thing that's good for you, and you're not going to like it. And don't try to make the -- don't put cheese sauce on the broccoli don't make it more delicious, like, but you've got to eat this broccoli. And I think that schools are changing that actually, I think there's really inspiring teachers out there who do not approach books and literature like that at all. But I do think that some of our ingrained feelings about like fetishizing reading and about being super precious about your reading, come from thinking that it's better than everything else. And I don't think that it is better than everything else.

>> But then on the same -- by the same token, I just, you know, I was like, committed to what I just said, but then I just realized, when -- why did I like reading so much, why does it not have that I'm better than quality to me. But yet, going to the library as a kid was a sanctuary and escape. And I didn't feel cool doing it, I didn't feel better than doing it. And in actuality, if I -- to be really honest, if you know, students, I was going to say friends, like, you know, other kids in school saw me going in, it would be almost like a shame thing. You're going to the library, like what are you going to library for like, loser? Like we're out living life to the fullest, and you are in the library.

>> I'll show you I'm going to live at the library. When I'm a grown up.

>> Even someone said to me, like, when I got the first job in the library, they said, why do you want to work in a library in hideaway for the world? And I've said this before on this podcast, I know I have, which I think it's just the opposite. It's very much the real world. But -- you know what I mean? So, like, there was like, it wasn't like a cooler, rarified--

>> Yeah.

>> It's very complex. I did not know that in a comment from Scotland was going to bring up such emotion. I'm like, half excited, half mad, half I don't know--

>> Yeah, it's also -- I have some conflict about it in my own sense to, because while I'm sitting here being like, reading is just like watching TV. Like, I know, it's not really like, I know that the way that I feel after reading a book versus the way that I feel after watching TV is different. And I prefer the reading one, like I certainly prefer when I fall asleep at night, if I read a book for 10 minutes versus look at Twitter for 10 minutes, I feel better having read the book, and not because it's a book, but because I actually just feel better afterward. And so, there is something there as well. But I think it's really important to -- I don't think you have to justify your leisure reading, writer-inner.

>> Well, thank you for that comment--

>> Yeah.

>> Scottish person.

>> Yes. My gosh. We're like, we're going to talk about this for 30 seconds.

>> Glasgow, is that an accent? Glasgow. All right.

>> I think we have some books--

>> We have to talk about books, jeez, I'm exhausted.

>> I know.

>> I do -- well, how do you want to

>> You go first.

>> Me?

>> Yeah.

>> I think, you know, I read this book, but I always like to surprise you. But I want -- this is the crazy thing we talked about out of your box, out of your comfort zone. I picked up this book, I think without knowing a thing about it. There's a bunch of holds on it in the library, I actually bought it at a local bookstore, just a block away from the library, a small independent bookstore that I support, Three Lives, lovely little bookstore and was happy to buy it. And then I'll donate it to the library. It's called "Lanny" by Max Porter. And I thought I picked it up -- I can't remember. I picked it up without knowing a thing about it. But yet, as I was reading it, I was like, it has so many of the things that are like right up my alley, folkloric, fairytale-esque, poetic slash adventurous figurative writing. Whatevs, maybe you can escape, and it's not comfort. It's like I just love seeing an author do work with those tropes and kinds of writing. So, Lanny, by Max Porter, he -- it's his second book, he wrote a book you might know I didn't read it. His first book is "Grief is the Thing with Feathers". And apparently, there's similarities but I didn't read it, so I won't say, but listeners, I'm sure, might have read it and will know. So, Lanny, I don't know how to describe it. It's like he does what I love to. He, Max Porter, plays with writing. So sometimes it's like, almost like "Lincoln in the Bardo". It's like you -- it's almost like, playwriting, like you have a character's name, and then what they're talking about, and then another character's name and what they say. Interestingly, as the book goes on, those headings like of who's speaking, go away, and you just get different paragraphs of different voices. And you're sometimes have to figure out wait, wait, wait, who's that talking and who's that talking? And so, he does play with writing. It's very poetic, sometimes very beautiful. Basically, about a family. Mom and Dad and son named Lanny who's like very young, six years old, and they moved from the city to a small village in England, their English, Max Porter is an English writer. So, they moved to this small town and what that means. The mom's an ex-actress. Now, she's, writing a book on a crime story that's actually very graphic. The dad is a commuter to London, in like a financial firm, one of those jobs, and the kid, you know, is out there with them. Sounds very prosaic, and like almost like a straightforward novel. But as I just -- I think alluded a little bit to the format, and the style of writing is so fabulist, folkloric fairytale-esque and he plays with different kinds of writing, as I said, that it's not straightforward by any means. And sometimes the language is difficult, but sometimes it's not -- some -- ultimately not, at least to me, sometimes, I had to go to the dictionary and look up something like I can read a little part to figure out happily what it was. Actually, I was happy to actually go to an actual dictionary, because I wanted just to sort of keep the momentum of pages and words going like the book just feels even beautiful like it has just beautiful paper. So, the story though, it's painful. But I'm not going to reveal a spoiler, even though it's -- the book, as I might have indicated, is not so much about spoilers, even though there is a dramatic arc that is resolved in a certain way. Unfortunately, the kid goes missing. in this town, he's a very, like, he's been a very divisive character I've read, because he's so almost pure and wonderful and pixie-ish and sings to himself and is very connected to nature and almost seems unreal child.

>> An elf or a fairy or something?

>> Well, let me get to that.

>> Changeling.

>> And he also asks, like, really interesting questions, like precocious questions to his parents like, one is, what is more patient? What is more patience? A hope or an idea? Is that right? No.

>> It's the kid who says it. Yeah, yeah. That's what I was try--

>> Which do you think is more patient? An idea or a--

>> All right. Which do you think is more patient? All right. Because he asks, the kid, Lanny, asks very interesting questions like of his parents. Which do you think is more patient? A hope or an idea? And that, you know, it's easy to sort of breeze past that and be like, what a cute kid. But when I like, you know, part of my reading is like to stop to really think what he's saying, like, is hope more patient or an idea more patient? I was like, well I think I hope would be more patient, because hope is always pushed forward into the future. And like, you can -- hoping is almost an active of not coming to fruition, like you just hope it will get better and better and better, so you could be very patient with it. And an idea, like almost wants to be born and become an action. Is that true? So, I actually started thinking about it, too. And I think you guys have your kid asked me that. Would you be like, what? You are a genius.

>> Yeah. I always wish that kids would ask these kinds of questions when you really have time to stop and think about them. But they tend to ask them when you're like--

>> Rushing to get out the door.

>> Or you're cleaning up something and like, you're just like, what, what? Hope or an idea, what? Like, but that -- It's a really -- you need to think about it a minute. That's really interesting. Just the idea of either of those things being patient at all is--

>> Yeah.

>> Kind of interesting.

>> That's why I was trouble -- hard to remember the question, because I was like, he describes patients. Like, why is he curious about patients?

>> Is he trying to get at like what's more long lasting?

>> I don't know.

>> Yeah?

>> Actually, that's interesting that he asked questions about -- he asked that question about patients. Well, we'll leave that to the world think about and read, but you just said does he turn into an elf or sprite there is an element -- there's another -- there's a couple of other characters that are figure largely, but one character that some can call the center of the whole thing is a mythical legendary village, small town village, in this small town character called Dead Papa Toothwort, who has dialogue, or words of his own, that he shares. He's like a organic, ivy covered, shape shifting, village legend that doesn't necessarily do malevolence, but might cause trouble sometimes. Or -- well, you could say could be malevolent, because you don't know what trouble it will manifest as, but he's also very much part of the village folklore.

>> Okay.

>> And there is one thing that Max Porter does in this book that I love, in that he visually will represent -- see the language? I should have the producer take a picture. Because it's almost like E. E. Cummings or some other writers who play with type and font. And it's not just straight up text.

>> Yeah, the word sort of like curve off the page.

>> They curve, they turn under, they sometimes overlap. And what Dead Papa Toothwort is with this text is, he's listening in to the conversations and thoughts of the villagers and that sort of which feeds him, like the village thoughts. And that's what he lives for is hearing these kinds of thoughts. And there's sometimes funny and sometimes interesting that you pick up like, you could imagine picking up snippets of anybody's thoughts, could be interesting like walking down the street -- what someone's randomly thinking or saying like, how many times have we wanted to repeat to a friend, my God, I heard this on the street and an exchange like that. So -- but -- so this Dead Papa Toothwort like I said, shape shifts. The whole book opens like this and it doesn't get harder, but it starts off challenging. "Dead Papa Toothwort wakes from his standing nap an acre wide and scrapes off dream drags of bitumen, glistening thick with liquid globs of litter. He lays down to hear hymns of the earth. There are none. So, he hums. Then he shrinks, cuts himself a mouth with a rusted ring pole and sucks up wet skin of acid rich mulch and fruity detritivores. He splits and wobbles, divides and reassembles, coughs up a plastic pot and a petrified condom, briefly pauses as a smashed fiberglass bath, stumbles and rips off his mask, feels his face and finds it's made of long buried tannic acid bottles." I was like where am I? What am I? And I looked a lot of this up like detritivore is like something that feeds off of garbage. And bitumen, right, is actually tar so he -- even the first sentence. "Dead Papa Toothwort wakes from his standing nap an acre wide and scrapes off dream drags of bitumen." Like he's almost like a parking lot.

>> Wait, what is a bitumen?

>> Tar.

>> Tar? Okay.

>> So, it's almost like he's in the form of a parking lot, stands up an acre wide, like a parking lot size, scrapes off the tar, and bits of garbage. I don't know. But it was fun to find -- to think about that and actually stop -- like we just talked about earlier is like, I don't find that in a position -- sometimes you can be tired, too tired, to handle it. But when you're into it, figuring out what he's really saying and get the visual is really exciting to me. So anyway, this character, eventually, like he listens to the villagers, and he glommed on to Lanny, who's very connected to nature and finds Dead Papa Toothwort finds him fascinating, like the kid, Lanny. So, when he does disappear, it -- you don't know like did this legendary figure take him for no good, for pain, for you know, or did something else happen? And it doesn't end the way you think. I think. And you do get points about the different points of view. And I think we -- I had mentioned is that you do get some interesting perspectives on parenting, in that it's so honest, that at one point, like the dad says, I don't even know how much I did love this kid. That was -- yeah, I know. I know, sweetie. I'm sorry. Only because like, you know, he was so strange.

>> Yeah, yeah,

>> I was so--

>> Like, not human-ish.

>> Right. And then like, Dad was like a commuter guy in this financial office who sort of liked it, you know, he got the soul deadening aspect of it. He sort of liked it. So, when like, neighbor dads would say, how's that strange kid of yours? Like, he didn't like it. He like -- and he felt a little distance from him.

>> Yeah.

>> And just for a book one, and also a parent one, to admit that must be not so easy. And the mom even has a moment she's reflecting back before he goes missing, she's devoted to him like they just -- he brings her so much joy. But she has this fleeting moment where she's thinking, No, he disappeared. And she remembers guiltily when he was very little like in the crib. And she thought he had stopped breathing tragically, and she just thought, Okay, so that's my life. I don't have a kid anymore. I can sleep in late I can do -- it's like back my life is back to me. But you get the sense that she's saying that almost as a coping mechanism, but not quite, you know, believing it. Like the dad's more forthright of like, I'm not sure how much I love this kid.

>> Wow.

>> But there's so much more there. There's this legendary figure. It's the family, there's other neighbor -- there's villagers' voices you get. And then when Lanny disappears you think you know might happen, maybe you don't know what happened. But I think you'll be surprised what does happen.

>> Wow.

>> And I won't reveal. So, Lanny by Max Porter.

>> Wow. That's amazing.

>> Yeah.

>> And sometimes we really have to stretch to form a connection between our two books. But this time we really do not.

>> Because I -- yeah.

>> Because that last point that you made about the mother being like, okay, this is my life. I'm going to go back to me able to sleep in whatever, is entirely what the book that I read is about.

>> My god.

>> It's called "A Life's Work: On Becoming a Mother" by Rachel Cusk. And so, do you know Rachel Cusk?

>> Yeah.

>> Right. Okay, so she's a pretty famous novelist. This is a work of nonfiction. It was her first work of nonfiction, I believe, I should probably look that up again. But it was -- it's a memoir about her becoming a parent. And she starts with pregnancy and goes through her daughter turning, I think like, maybe one or so. And it is really brutally honest. It is -- I love it when novelists write memoirs, like they -- because they just bring this sort of like fiction writing sensibility to it. It's totally nonlinear. She's sort of floating around in space. It's also kind of like essays almost where she writes one about sleep and one about, you know, how hard it was to like, leave her child. I also before we get too deeply into this, I have to show you. So, I have no idea where this book came from. We moved last week, a couple weeks ago, and I had to like pick up all of my books and decide whether to put them in boxes or whether to donate them or give them away, which for me at least not being super sentimental about physical books. I got rid of a whole ton of books and I didn't have all that many to begin with to tell you the truth.

>> What do you mean get rid of? What was this method of ridding?

>> I gave most of them to friends.

>> Good.

>> And I donated the rest of them to my local library.

>> I'm like approved.

>> You're like stamp approved. But so, this came out of this book. I don't know -- this book had been on my shelf for ages. It was also really fun to look at my shelf and see what I hadn't read. I have no idea where I got it and I apologize if some friend of mine is listening to this and I borrowed it from you and never gave it back, which seems like it could be possible certainly. But it has an article in it and there's one on this side and one on the other side and they're both complete articles.

>> My god.

>> One of them is called "Pupils get Housework as Homework" and the other one is something about a fire.

>> "Forest Fire Closes in on Tourist Town".

>> Yeah.

>> But they are cut out. Usually when an article's cut out the reverse side is not complete or not intended to be the article cut out, but these are both perfectly symmetrical.

>> So, no idea. It's possible I bought this used. I really have no idea. But she writes -- so a lot of this -- so the book is very dry, there's something very British about it. It was published in 2001 in the UK.

>> British?

>> Yeah.

>> I didn't know that.

>> Yeah, she is.

>> We both read books by British authors.

>> We did and both about motherhood and both about sort of getting you're -- trying to like separate yourself from your child, which is a fascinating topic. I would read a million words on this and Rachel Cusk writes about it super eloquently and super honestly. Let me see, I was going to read a part that was just like what you were talking about. Okay, here we go. This is kind of two thirds the way through. "No matter how much I try to retain my self, my shape within the confines of this trial, it is like trying to resist the sleep an anesthetic forces upon a patient. I believe that my will can keep me afloat, can save me from being submerged; but consciousness itself is unseated, undermined by the process of reproduction. By having a baby, I have created a rival consciousness, one toward which my bond of duty is such that it easily gains power over me and holds me in an enfeebling time. My daughter quickly comes to replace me as the primary object of my care. I become an undone task, a phone call I can't seem to make, a bill I don't get around to paying. My life has the seeding atmosphere of an untended garden. Strangely this neglect troubles me most where it is most superficial, with the baby's birth: a lifetime of vanity vanished into thin air. Like gestures of love that abruptly cease, I come to value my habit of self-adornment only with its disappearance: it was proof that I cared, and without it I feel a private sense of sad resignation, as if some optimistic gloss has been stripped from my life. Sometimes I think back to that history of caring as a self-conscious child, an anxious teenager, an attempted woman of fashion, amazed that it could have ended so precipitously for it was in its modest way a civilization, a city built from the days of my life." And that rings super true for me, this idea that you immediately and abruptly care for something way more than you care about yourself, is something -- and she does this throughout the book that I feel like is true and is universally recognizable. not universally, nothing is universally recognizable, but it is very recognizable for many women and that I have never quite read expressed so beautifully or so well. And some of this book is really dark, she went through a really dark period after her baby was born. Some of it is brutally funny. She talks about parenting books, and how hilarious they can be. Some of it was absolutely laugh out loud, funny, I was reading parts of it out loud. It is just a really, really amazing read. I don't know that I would give it as a gift.

>> Yeah.

>> It's a little brutal for maybe a gift, but I'm so glad that I kept it all this time. And that it has survived multiple moves with me, I think somehow and--

>> Well, you know, as you know, the quote I said, from Lanny, like, you know, there's so many mythologies and things about motherhood. I mean -- that must drive you personally just crazy. Or no wonder there's so much guilt and so much discussion of it. Because, like, when you were reading what you read, which was really well written by Rachel Cusk, I thought of a quote from a movie "Terms of Endearment", which was actually a book by Larry McMurtry. And I won't get into the story, but the daughter character -- it's about a mother daughter, the daughter says to her child, about how much she loves her child. She says, I love you, I love you almost as much as I love myself. And she says it very honestly. And I remember, thinking it was shocking. Like a mother can't say -- mother has to say she loves her kid more than she loves herself. But this character who was not considered a bad character. You are not getting moral advice from her said -- was authentically saying, I love you so much like this is how much I love you. I love you almost as much as I love me. And it wasn't -- she wasn't a narcissist, but what it made me think about was like, what this is -- you have to love yourself first. Like you have to.

>> Yeah, but the expectation isn't that right?

>> And I thought of the guilt like and I remember being -- when I heard it, the line, I was sort of surprised, because it was like how could someone admit they love themselves more? That's so selfish and so narcissistic and self-centered.

>> Yeah.

>> But yet this character was not that

>> It also reminds me of this thing.

>> She was saying it is a good thing.

>> Just swing wildly from one reference to another to another.

>> Why not?

>> So, we started with Rachel Cusk's Life Work, then we went to Terms of Endearment. Now, we'll go to Elizabeth Gilbert on Facebook. On Facebook, Elizabeth Gilbert wrote this thing who's a, if you're not familiar with her, she's an author. She wrote, "Eat, Pray, Love" and lots of other books afterward. And she does a lot of sort of like introspection work and runs a lot of workshops. And so, it's worth looking at the actual Facebook post, but she was leading some kind of workshop and asked this like, huge room full of women, like how many of you are afraid that you'll become your mother, and like almost all of them, raise their hands. And she found this like to be really profoundly sad, because being a mother is like an unwinnable game that if you were anything less than perfect, then you failed at it completely and like she kind of goes through this whole thing where she's like, God help the mother who wanted to go back to work and couldn't, God help the mother who didn't have enough money to pay the rent, God help the mother who made any kind of mistake in any way, God help the mother who was an addict, God help the mother who like, you know, this whole list of things that like, we all blame so much stuff on all of our mothers all the time. And then it's, it's really just this unwinnable game. There's something very resonant with this book. And with that, and with also what you're talking about, about loving yourself more than your child, like, God help the mother who's to admit that she loves herself more than her child like--

>> Yeah.

>> It's just it -- I just found it. Yeah, it's a really deep, really beautiful book, really also funny, and really sad. And I recognized a lot of my own experience in it.

>> Yeah, another conversation we get at for hours.

>> Yeah.

>> I love that -- you know, I love talking about parenting.

>> I know you do. There's no Supernanny here, the baby's really little children.

>> Now that I have children, I love talking about parenting. But like it -- I feel for you, though, because like you won't even know, in some ways and tell me if this is like the wrong way to put it. But like, you won't even know if you were successful, as a mother until like, you know, 20 years when your kid can actually be an adult on his own. And, you know, you sort of get the sense. Are you talking about it like he's like, yeah, I'm good, I'm good? And he actually wants to talk to you on the phone or visit you once in a while--

>> Yeah.

>> Rather than hate you, then you'll be like, I did a good job.

>> Yeah, that I know, I think that's a really good point actually. There's no -- there's nothing like the word success doesn't even apply to anything about parenting. And -- but also, when you think about it, what you're really training these little people to do is to function in the world completely independent from you, like, what success really looks like is making a function independent people, which is kind of the opposite of what you actually want, right? Because what you actually want is you -- I also read somewhere else, and I can't take credit for this thought, but that like you sort of like fallen in love with this child. And then your only job is to constantly push it away from you and make yourself miserable.

>> Yeah, but -- no, you want him or her to become independent, live their life, but you still want them to love you and call you every day.

>> Sure.

>> They can be very independent and call you every day.

>> They could.

>> Call your mother.

>> That would be ideal.

>> Right.

>> And maybe he also wants to live in my house with me. Maybe not, I don't know we'll see.

>> So cute.

>> But yeah.

>> I love -- moms and sons are--

>> The idea of like negating yourself for the benefit of your child though, like it's real. And it's a lot -- and she's telling--

>> You shut me up.

>> You have no idea.

>> I, for once, have nothing to say on the subject of parenting. All right, well, I love talking to you.

>> I love talking to you.

>> It was really cool.

>> It really was.

>> I got lost in that for a minute. Okay, so thank you everybody for listening. And, you know, let us know what your thoughts are and if you have any hot topic ideas, hot topics--

>> Hot topics.

>> I have to sing the Hot Pockets song

>> By emailing us at podcasts, plural, at NYPL dot org, podcasts@NYPL.org.

>> Or you can also leave us a review on iTunes. You know if you're bored.

>> But only if it's good. And says, you know, Frank sounds uncommonly lovely and beautiful. You have to refer to my physical form.

>> Which you know so much about.

>> No one knows about, thank God. Anyway, thanks everybody for listening and keep reading.

>> Bye.