No Two Persons by Erica Bauermeister

I didn't write down who recommended No Two Persons by Erica Bauermeister to me. I looked it up on a lot of my bloggy friends who write about books, but I can't find it. Regardless of whoever recommended it, I really appreciate it!

In this (novel? series of short stories? hm) book, the first thing you read in the front matter is the following quote:

No two persons ever read the same book, or saw the same picture. 
The Writings of Madame Swetchine, 1860

One of my absolute favorite parts of writing about books on my blog is hearing about how other people interpret the books I read. Sure, I may not have liked Hamnet, but lots of people do and I love to hear about how it relates to them and their lives. It is truly magical how we do not all get the same things out of the same words. 

(If you want to join in on our A Tree Grows in Brooklyn read to see how we all read the same words and react to them differently, please do so!) 

In No Two Persons, we start by meeting Alice, she of a troubled family background who writes a book called Theo while Professor Roberts mentors her. Each chapter after the first follows a person who interacts with the novel she has written. That's the plot. But this book is really about the importance of books and the bonds great literature can make. 

My interest in this book waxed and waned depending on the character's viewpoint we were in, but the first chapter is maybe the best first chapter of a book I've read since Assassin's Apprentice. I found myself jotting down almost every sentence as a line of note. Perfection. And then in the sixth chapter I cried and cried and that alone made me think that everyone who is a writer or a reader could use this book in their life. 

4.5/5 stars

Lines of note: 

But you could learn so much more, keeping your gaze down. Just as well for Alice, who had never liked meeting people's eyes. It always felt like looking into a jam-packed closet - or opening the door to your own. (page 6)

Bauermeister's observational skills are very sharp. 

When Alice had learned how to read, she'd discovered her own world, far from their house and their Oregon town. Her bother called it hiding, but as he'd read the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy three times by that point, he was hardly one to talk. (page 6)

This felt like a direct jab to me. Okay, okay, world. I will read the stupid books. Or at least try to.

"I want you to go to a coffee shop," he said in one class. "Close your eyes and listen. Write down what the people around you are feeling. Not saying. Not thinking. Feeling. Ask yourself: How do you know that? Is it a dip in a sentence? A scrape of a chair? The snap of a plastic lid onto a cup? Use the details to take us inside." (page 14-15)

One of the best things about the first chapter was Alice's relationship with her mentor. He was such a good teacher. This is such a clever writing exercise. 

...there are things you can't see until you are ready to look. (page 28)

This is the phenomena of listening to a song from your childhood and realizing that it's about something entirely more adult than you thought when you were young!

"I think each story has its own life. In the beginning, it lives in the writer's mind, and it grows and changes while it's there. Changes the writer, too, I'd bet. "He smiled at her, then continued. "At some point it's written down, and that's the book readers hold in their hands. But the story isn't done, because it goes on to live in the readers' minds, in a way that's particular to each of them. We're all caretakers of the stories, Alice. Writers are just the lucky ones that get to know them first." (page 30-31)

What do you think, writer friends? Is your writing yours? Obviously, if you publish your work you want people to read it, but does their interpretation mean anything at all to you?

Kit's mother steadfastly refused to start by asking any guest about their work - that was too easy. Besides, the best stuff resided elsewhere, she always said, and generally this was true, although sometimes a bit more than expected (a discussion of polyamory, started by an innocuous-looking professor of physics when Kit was seven years old, remained a standout). (page 192)

I agree with Kit's mother. I try really hard not to ask people what they do for paid work. I actually am just realizing that there are a couple of people in my book club who I have known for years, but I don't know what they do for work!

"That must be frustrating," he said. He had no idea what she'd said, but he'd realized early in life that you could use that sentence as an effective response to 90 percent of what most people talked about. (page 205)

More of that great observational writing.