Moments From My Mother's Life Which Cling Like My Own Memories

My mother grew up in Highland Park, then a suburban fringe of Los Angeles, during the dark years of The Great Depression and World War II. She was sweet and unassuming, always afraid to impose or be the center of attention. And yet, right up to the last week of her life, she never stopped writing letters in her beautiful calligraphy, drawing pictures, and retelling stories of her youth. The words that follow are mine, but the experiences and feelings are all hers.

C. S. Lewis said, "We read to know we are not alone." I think of this while reading Judith Evans's Moments From my Mother's Life Which Cling Like my Own Memories, a novella in verse, combining the lyric intensity of poetry with the forward motion of good story-telling. But, it is more than that. It is also a history of a particular girl growing up in Los Angeles in the first half of the 20th century. We follow Gwen, a smart, artistic, kind-hearted girl, from second grade in 1929 until her marriage in 1942. Our hearts break a bit when she abandons her dreams of a life in art to help her family survive financially during The Great Depression. Here, I think of my own mother who surrendered her dream of writing to the need for steady income in the midst of chaotic family life.Evans tells Gwen's story with grace, wit, and elegance, in a metrical style that is all her own. When Evans began writing, she wrote both fiction and poetry, but over time developed a form that encapsulates the virtues of both genres, and that is perfect for the stories she has to tell. We are not alone in our dreaming. Sometimes we need to be reminded that dreams might be realized as well as abandoned. Judith Evans did not abandon her dream. You are holding that dream in your hands right now. At age seventy-five, she continues to dream, and to write. I am looking forward to her next book. Dear Reader, I think you will soon be looking forward to that too.
-Donna Hilbert, Gravity: New & Selected Poems