Birth Story ala The Thirteenth Tale

 

” All children mythologize their birth.  It is a universal trait.  You want to know someone?  Heart, mind and soul?  Ask him to tell you about when he was born.  What you get won’t be the truth; it will be a story.  And nothing is more telling than a story”.

This is my favorite passage from The Thirteenth Tale.  This idea, this theory, that everyone has their own little birth story.  As I was reading this, I felt my heart start to beat just a little bit faster as I realized this was true for me.  I do have a birth story, and this is mine.

I was adopted as an infant when I was 6 weeks old.  My birth parents are 2 wonderful people who had been waiting for a child for almost 8 years.  When I was five, my mom called me to her room.  It was easy to see she was in a bit of a state.  Her eyes watery, red faced, in a shaky voice she begin to tell me that she wasn’t my real mother and that my dad was not my real dad.  She explained very clearly that while she my my father loved me more than anything in the world, they were not  my “real” parents.  She explained that my real mother could not afford to take care of me and gave me up so that I could have a better life.  Of course, it was a closed adoption and she didn’t really know exactly what the motivation was for giving me up, but this was her way to try to make it seem understandable.  It worked, it made sense to me.  I was five and I got it.  But, because I was five, I needed more info.  I needed logistics.   Where exactly did I come from?  How did I end up with my current parents?  Did I come from the birth canal or the stork?!  This is where the real story begins.  My mom told me that I was special, that they “chose” me out of all of the other little babies that needed parents.  I loved this idea.  I envisioned a warehouse of babies just sitting on the floor waiting to be plucked.  They picked me!  As a five year old, I loved that this was my story.  Of course, in a teeny part of my five year old brain I knew that this was just a story,  but it was  more fun to believe in than the truth, just like Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.  Overtime,  the myth faded and lost its magic, but like most myths, it served its purpose which was to help me understand that regardless of exactly how it came to be, I had two wonderful parents wo loved me unconditionally and thought I was special.

That was my birth story.  Do you have one?

See below for my rivoting thoughts on The Thirteenth Tale:

I started reading The Thirteenth Tale on the plane ride to Boston.  The hype of this book has been astronomical, so I was grateful for a 3 hour plane ride with no distractions other than possible death by plane crash or an annoyingly friendly passenger to distract me.  Thankfully, neither of which ensued.

I liked this book.  It held my interest but not as much as some of the other books I have read this year.  I came up for air every now and then, and even paused to read the airline magazine.  I didn’t take it to the bathroom with me which means, quite frankly, that it didn’t quite captivate me the way I had hoped.  I liked that the main characters were book lovers and the peculiar setting.  To be honest, I found the story just a tad dreary.  Vida’s history was not a happy one, her family’s disfunction seemed hopeless to me and I felt myself slipping into a melancholy state of mind after long bouts of reading about her life.  The introduction of Aurelious in the book was too convenient for me to be believable, and I never felt any connection for him or Mrs. Love.  

That being said, I thought the storyline and the plot were very interesting and there is some really lovely writing in this book.  I would recommend it.  I don’t have rating system in place yet but I’m thinking it was a  3.5 out of 5.  My advice, read it, but wait for the paperback.