...She got up and hugged him, and saw herself hugging him in the wall mirror, with a wave of claustrophobia sweeping through her body...
The Woman Lit by Fireflies by Jim Harrison; Kindle Edition, 276 pages; Published October 2nd 2008 by Grove Press (first published August 1st 1990); ASIN: B008UX8TAM
...Ever since he first popped out of the egg man has been weeping…
The second novella, Sunset Limited, read like a long synopsis for a film script. A really lazy, and almost lame, effort by Jim Harrison. Action was stated and forwarded, feelings and thoughts expressed. A bit of dialogue here and there. More action sequences. And then the Hollywood treatment for finality. Very little character development. Hardly anything to do with Amtrak’s Sunset Limited. Nothing to get excited about in this novella and in my opinion used as simply filler for the bookends of the very good Brown Dog and The Woman Lit by Fireflies. I know I read this particular collection years ago, but didn’t recollect much about it other than the Brown Dog novella. This far superior Brown Dog piece I read again a few months ago in the later Brown Dog collection by the same name and wrote about it then. In my opinion, none of the Brown Dog novellas that follow the continuing saga of the Brown Dog character lives up to the quality of this first one collected in this book.
...When she thought about it later Clare was surprised again by how clear and cool her painful mind had felt...At eye level she looked at the way the roots of the corn broke up the earth...She rolled over onto her back...She looked at a dirty hand and thought idly with a smile, despite the pain, that for the first time in her life she did not know where her next shower was coming from...She normally walked a great deal because she was essentially claustrophobic and walking made the world appear larger…
As always, my favorite character in a Jim Harrison piece of literature is the self-reflective, self-examining, not-so-perfect person at a crossroads late in life. Aging right along with Jim Harrison, from the time I was around thirty to now in my mid-sixties, I have learned to appreciate his work even more the older I get. Clare is one of those personalities I find so appealing to me. The title novella, The Woman Lit by Fireflies, is astounding in its initial beauty and freedom in expressing with words a similar emotional response one might get from a stunning painting seen in an art gallery. A woman escaping into an endless maze of tall corn rows can do this to you.
...She tried to recall what her beloved Camus said about “terrible freedom,” that once you decided not to commit suicide, whether physically or figuratively, you assumed the responsibility of freedom…
Not surprising at all is Harrison’s bent for the existential questions presented in the examined life. Given his lead character is a woman it is also not surprising that Harrison maintains a sensitivity strikingly foreign to his own beastly physical appearance. The wide breadth of Harrison’s literary talents is amazing. Besides knowing how to string words together, his knowledge of wild game, canines, cuisine, geography, culture, and fine wines always adds more flavor to whatever stew he is simmering in his prose. Clare is one of those thoughtful people generally frequenting a Harrison novel or shorter piece of writing. Though at a crossroads, it is a given that Harrison rarely, if ever, makes any final decision clear. It is what it is. But what will become obvious to the reader is how important it is to feel alive and vital, and thus beyond one’s personal regret and despair.
...She got up and hugged him, and saw herself hugging him in the wall mirror, with a wave of claustrophobia sweeping through her body...
freedom," that once you decided not to commit suicide, whether physically or figuratively, you assumed the responsibility of freedom...
This really stood out to me. What does it mean to figuratively commit suicide? Does it mean to shut down mentally/emotionally?