Love Begins in Winter by Simon Van Booy

"One's life is nothing more than a string of moments.  Each life is like a string of pearls." p.97

Love Begins in Winter
by: Simon Van Booy
Copyright: 2009
Publisher: Harper Perennial
format: paperback
Pages: 226
Source: own

Goodreads Description: On the verge of giving up anchored to dreams that never came true and to people who have long since disappeared from their lives Van Booy's characters walk the streets of these stark and beautiful stories until chance meetings with strangers force them to face responsibility for lives they thought had continued on without them.

First Sentence:
I wait in the shadows.

My Thoughts:  I am not a big short-story reader. Matter of fact, I tend to not like them much.  Love Begins in Winter made me  reconsider my short-story avoidance.  Truly, Love Begins in Winter captured and mesmerized throughout. A lovely collection of life nuggets told through relationships. 

What impressed me greatly was Van Booy's writing; gifted he is.  The rhythm and flow of the words gave beauty, meaning, and depth to each story as each main character was filled with some sort of longing and loneliness. I was embraced by the simplicity of thought and connection; the difficulties of finding and maintaining.   I was awed by the depth that caused me to ponder throughout. 

Many times, the story ends and I was left scratching my head with "what?"  It was as if I had just finished reading poetry and could not figure out the intended meaning, yet, I felt like meaning was permeating my mind. A meaning for me, and maybe a different one for you.  Sometimes not upbeat, yet, not necessarily melancholy - matter of fact tone captured my reading mind.  Each story touched me in subtle yet powerful ways - beauty was spoken through seemingly simple stories of average lives; life meanings packed into simple snapshots that translates and can descend upon us all.  Each story seemed to be about nothing much, but the opposite is true; life nuggets.

Bottom Line:  I loved Van Booy's storytelling; mesmerizing with rhythmic and beautiful prose.   A very good collection of short stories.

Book Cover:  I like it well. For me, it added to the feeling of each story; they complimented.

Side Note:  The back of the book contained the following sections:  About the author, About the book,  Read On;  insights, interviews and more.  I really liked these sections. A nice touch that did give me insight and entertained.

Note Worthy Quotes: My pen flowed; many quotes were written out onto my notecards. For the post, I could not eliminate so I went with the abundance.

"Grief is a country where it rains and rains but nothing grows."  p.26

"Music is only a mystery to people who want it explained.  Music and love are the same."  p.22

"The strings vibrate when the bow is near, as through anticipating their lover."  p.3

"Solitude and depression are like swimming and drowning." p. 31

"I didn't fall in love with Bruno then.  I had always loved him and we were always together."  p.49

"You can't put a price on the rituals of love, because you never know what will happen next."  p.83

"People's expectations of coupling may be too grand, and thus disappointment, loneliness, and often pain are the inevitable adjuncts of something we thought would be the ultimate answer (an emotional cure-all) to our ongoing fears.  Many people who feel an emotional emptiness when alone for long periods look to marriage the way someone financially poor views winning a jackpot."  p.93

"We perhaps might learn to view those we have special feelings toward as being our companions rather than our saviors, companions on the journey back to childhood.  But there is nothing to find. We must unravel. And in the meantime -- lower our expectations of each other (and ourselves!) in order to 'love' more deeply and more humanly."  p.93

"Age is a plow that unearths the true nature of things.  But only after the moment has passed and we are powerless to change anything, are we granted wisdom.  As though we are living backward."  p.174

"He imagined writing out the story of his life across each length of white.  What words would he choose; would there be things he wrote that weren't true; would there be spaces for things he wished he had done, people he wanted to meet, but who never came?" p.182