Customer Reviews

Do Not Go Gentle: My Search for Miracles in a Cynical Time

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I met Ann Hood one November night at Baker Books in Dartmouth, MA, when she came to give a reading of "Do Not Go Gentle". It was enjoyable. As an Italian, I could identify with Mama Rose, and her methods to ward off the effects of "mal'occhio" (evil eye) for my grandmother did the same thing, only with drops of olive oil. Nonna passed away last April, but the memory lingers. As a religious priest, I could identify with her Catholicism, and I am sure the Franciscan brothers also present had much to share with her that evening in that regard. I regret that I didn't spend some time with her. After her dialogue with the Franciscans, I just stepped up, asked her to dedicate the brand new book to me, and left. I had not read the book yet. Feeling dumb, I did not pursue a conversation. I enjoyed the work. It reads smoothly, like a river. The text is not taxing to the reader, but is easy to follow, taking the reader to many places, stories and ideas. The story is the faith journey of a woman, who is trying to square the death of her father with her faith system. Faith is more than a packaged set of beliefs. Faith is that sometimes. Dogmatic faith. Other times faith is dynamic. Ann Hood's faith journey is to answer the question about how her father's death relates to her sense of meaning. And journey she does to many places, externally and internally. It is a human journey, maybe at times a little wrapped up in a sentiment, or in magic, or superstition. Still it is a human journey. And a theological journey, if we can remember that the classical definition of theology is "fides quarens intellectum" (faith seeking understanding). I finished the book hoping that she would at some point visit her Catholicism again. I am grateful for her portrait of Italian life. I like her sense of humor. I would have liked to read more about her mother. While I am taking basic Italian classes on Federal Hill every Saturday morning until June, I hope to run into her at Tony's, or Dolce Vita or Venda Ravioli. Now I have a few questions to raise. They would go well with some bruschetta and red wine.

Author Ann Hood became determined to find a miracle cure when her father was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. She was the product of generations of Italian-American Catholics, and was determined to find some miracle to cure her father with whom she has a very special bond. She traveled to Chimayo, N.Mexico, where the Tewa Indians believe that the mud is curative and a chapel commemorates the healing miracles that have allegedly occurred there. She brought back the special mud for her father. Her father was willing to try anything, as he was not ready to accept his death sentence.

SPOILERS
This poignant memoir of grief is also a love story: "My father," Hood writes, "was the love of my life." She loved the way he whistled, the way he smiled, even the way he carried boxes of doughnuts. Unlike many young adults who give up their youthful adoration of Dear Old Dad, Hood only grew to cherish her father more as a grown-up, and as she watched him die.

I thought this book was very well done. I especially enjoyed the beautiful descriptions of various places where miracles were to have occurred. Having a family member who is very ill, I thought this was just the type of book, I might need right now. I was disappointed in the fact that the miracle Ann Hood so desperately wanted to find for her father, did not help to extend his life.

I had a hard time extrapolating the author's experiences into a useful context. She is a talented writer, and her prose is easy to follow. But her accounts are a bit too personal, and at times i felt almost like i was reading her diary. I was most disappointed at the end, when her search for explanations to her father's death takes her around Europe. For one thing, how could she pretend to find answers for faith? What really killed me was the episode with the contact lens: "If you believe it is there, you will find it". I couldn't help but think about Kevin Costner: "If you build it, they will come".

Hood's prose is haunting and lyrical. Readers are easily swept up into her story -- a story of searching for meaning in the modern world. Through an exploration of family, Hood discovers the real meaning of faith. At the heart of it all, faith is about love. While some of the trappings are caught up in the traditionally religious, faith is a matter of the heart. Ann Hood finds her faith when she returns to her roots. Her message is uplifting and gentle; her love true and strong.

Hood is a graceful writer, but her memoir is an example of self-indulgence and emotionalism posturing as spirituality. Her faith is based on the search for an emotional high, and has little to do with the traditional spiritual disciplines that are the staples of the spiritual life: prayer, meditation, silence, and scripture study. Read it for vivid descriptions of her expensive vacations, but not for spiritual inspiration.

Once I got into the book I had a hard time going to work, or doing anything but reading it morning, noon and night. I liked it a lot.