Customer Reviews

Drinking the Rain: A Memoir

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I must confess I almost couldn't get through "Drinking the Rain". Kates Shulman's account of a citified feminist's return to nature seemed an unintential parody, not helped by the comically overstated title. But midway through Ms. Shulman's story I became hooked. What seemed at first a pretentious and self-important rant transformed into a thoughtful and evocotive musing on what it is to be an artist. Ironically, it's only after Shulman returned to the city (and later goes to teach in Colorado) that the book came alive for me. Her descriptions of dinner with an old feminist friend left me teary eyed at their simple eloquence, and the descriptions of a snowy Colorado reunion with her kids kept me reading. By the end, I adored this story.

Shulman raises many provocative ideas in her memoir. Among the ones that affected me most profoundly are Solitude, Rebirth, Self-Sufficiency, and the utilization of the resources in your own environment.

If you've ever feared that the possibilities for excitement, adventure, wonderment, or simply change- shrink with age, you will be inspired by Shulman's resolve to continue searching for meaning and discovery in her life at fifty and well beyond. What courage to embark on a new and thoroughly independent life after decades of playing the role of wife and mother. But Shulman is not a super human. She does not possess some rarefied quality that we could not all find nestled in our spirit. We walk with her down the beach of her island past a barking and threatening dog. She has always held an irrational fear of dogs though never has she actually had a bad experience with one. Her instinct is to turn back, but instead she contemplates the nature of fear and how best to conquer it, and she decides the best thing is to face it. So she continues on, if somewhat cautiously.

This book will mark you, if you let it. I come away feeling better equipped to face my barking island dogs. I am more observant and appreciative of my surroundings. And I will never see myself as stuck in a single way of life, never let the light of change and possibility elude me.

Ten years ago Shulman went to her family's primitive cabin on Long Island, Maine, for a summer of solitude. A New Yorker through and through, she was apprehensive and fearful, but also excited and determined. Her life was vaguely dissatisfying and she was looking for a change.

Reading her memoir is like having a personal conversation with the author. Her tone is personal and intimate. When she stands back for a moment, picturing herself through a passing stranger's averted eye - a middle-aged lady in floppy hat and mismatched tennis shoes, gathering weeds in a basket - we too are startled and amused, having been looking from the inside out.

Shulman, recognized for her novels and feminism, reaches her cross-roads at age 50. Her children are grown, her relationship with her husband is a distant truce, the feminist movement has stalled, and her life is overfull of busyness.

But the birth of a new passion in her life is serendipitous. Always an adventurous cook, she finds her lengthy trips to the uninspiring island grocery a jarring intrusion on her pleasing solitude and a chore contrary to her new motto, "Do only what you like, nothing you don't!"

From years before she remembers mussel gathering, one of the few pleasures of the hurried vacations she had always hated. In those years, with small children and a domineering, orchestrating husband, the summer cabin, with no electicity or plumbing had meant a round of endless drudgery.

Now that she has only to please herself, mussel hunting is merely the first of her pleasures. Around her a world unfolds. Armed with Euell Gibbons and determination, she reaps the bounty of wild things, spending her days in exploration and discovery.

She finds in herself a new tranquility and simplicity which, as she feared, is invaded by New York's cosmopolitan pace and abundance. The reader is a bit ahead of her here, exhorting Shulman to enjoy what the city has to offer, just as she enjoys her island.

And when the author does absorb our advice (given to her by an old childhood friend at a party), she embraces it fully, applying this tactic to her whole life. Thus, when she accepts a position at the University of Colorado, she plunges into an exploration of New Age mysticism, health foods, mountain hiking and Buddhism. You don't have to share her interests to find her open-minded approach admirable.

There are upheavels too. Her children are less than thrilled in the back-to-nature changes in their New Yorker mother. Her husband shatters a summer's idyll at the island by sending divorce papers. And romantic love, with all its joy, threatens to disrupt her solitary self. As I said, you don't have to agree.

But through it all, Shulman struggles to maintain her equilibrium, making deliberate choices, letting her thoughts range free. She is enchanted by the wholeness of things - how all of nature interrelates - and then dismayed as pollution from the cities and radiation from Chernobyll threatens her island haven.

This is a memoir of continuous awakening and endless dialogue with the self and the world. There's helplessness, anger, hope and love and inspiration. It's a joy to read.

This is a human book, not just a "woman's book." Take it from a middle-aged guy who was transfixed by this masterpiece. I've always loved Maine and I have spent much time on the Casco Bay near Alix' retreat. And I've always loved honest and powerful writing. Alix Schulman delivered both. She even responded to my letter of appreciation. And all my friends who read the book at my urging expressed appreciation to me. The world needs more Alix Schulman's.

Drinking the Rain, as one might guess from its beautiful title, can be described as a novel-length prose poem. I think of it as an ode to nature and to a particular time in the life journey of its author. It is a time when Shulman's children are grown; her husband, Jerry, and she have become estranged; the feminist movement to which she had been devoted seems dormant and a thing of the past. In short, a time when the author loses the passions that had driven her and, sadly, loses sight of the significance of her life. Having recently turned fifty, she feels a new urgency. Then something happens to bring about her firm determination to "begin a new chapter."

While exercising one morning, Shulman is seized by an intense and frightening vertigo. Her vertigo continues in the days and weeks ahead, but the doctors can find no explanation. Certain that this is the beginning of the end of her life, she seizes the day and listens to her heart, which urges her to remove herself from obligations and pressures that have filled her life. She wants only solitude and silence.

In the past, she has been afraid to spend time alone at her family's isolated cabin on a promontory in Maine--not even with her children during summer vacations. The cabin has no plumbing, heat or electricity, no neighbors, no phone, not even a road should she need help for some reason. She wonders if she can get the fridge started and imagines disasters such as lightning striking the tinderbox cabin or a slasher steeling his way into her bedroom in the dead of night. But her need to slow her life down, to get away from her mailbox stuffed with announcements and invitations, and to escape the incessant ringing of the telephone takes her to this cabin. Her fears go with her.

Shulman learns to begin her days without an agenda. Her many fears loom large. I confess to identifying with all of them. Where we part company is in her ingenuity to find sustenance on this "nubble," as she calls the promontory. I would see the nubble as a beautiful place to visit for an afternoon before going in search of a cozy restaurant for a warm dinner. Not so for Shulman. She remains at the cabin for months on end, unearthing a daily fare for herself that is nothing less than delicious and healthy. She scours the shoreline and coves for mussels, clams, periwinkles, even the occasional scallop and lobster. She recognizes every herb, every edible berry, and knows just how to cook them.

Drinking the Rain is the author's honest account of surviving on this isolated stretch of beach and, in time, transforming herself. Eventually, her fears diminish. She begins to feel safe and even protected in the ever-changing vastness of her simple ocean dwelling.

But this is not an account of an easygoing change of lifestyle. The challenges are intimidating... such as a warning she hears on the radio about a red tide--a deadly organism that attacks the nervous system and paralyzes the vital organs. That bit of news certainly would send me scurrying back to my city habitat. Yet Shulman does not flee when unexpected difficulties overwhelm her. Among other things, she seeks out a native dweller to learn more.

When an old friend and free spirit, Margaret, comes to visit, they take long walks and enjoy meaningful conversations Shulman has been craving. They explore the beauty of nature and the complexities of their own inner natures. When it is time for Margaret to leave, the author is "... both relieved and sorry to see her go: relieved to resume my experiment in solitude, but sorry to lose the company of the one person I know whose sympathy for my chosen life is incontestable, though she'd never choose it for herself."

Soon after the departure of her friend, Shulman is served with divorce papers. The shock is great. It is one thing to choose a solitary life, another to have it thrust upon you. Her first fear is that she may lose the cabin which she has come to love as she never did in all her years of marriage. What happens now to our brave protagonist? A great deal. Her new life requires earning money, achieving an understanding with her embittered children, her continued determination to avoid the materialism that consumes those around her, and the challenge of a love affair.

Drinking the Rain is an illuminating memoir. It reminds me of the importance of taking risks, of trying new things, of following my heart. But most of all, it piques my curiosity about and sustains my interest in this fascinating author who is willing to share herself with such honesty in this eloquently crafted work. Shulman's book is an excellent choice for those women who wish explore their potential and travel new ground.

by Duffie Bart
for Story Circle Book Reviews
reviewing books by, for, and about women

I felt amazement, admiration for someone who could truly relish a solitary life and virtually give up comforts and family even if for just part of the year. She really didn't explain her motivations and the reader has to assume that her unhappy marriage was the impetus. But what was the gain in living alone in a secluded ME cabin, eating all sorts of wild greens and mussels? She hever explained the value of the experience, only the experience itself.

This memoir was extremely well written. The descriptions of life for a 50 year old city woman living in Maine are unique and beautiful. Each sentence and each page is capturing. Although slow starting gets much quicker as you go. I immediately thought of my mother while reading and afterwards. For me it did not have much meaning besides the writing aspect, though as a fifteen year old girl having lived in the country her whole life I do not expect that. I will definately reread it at a later point. A very wonderful book!

I found this book to be one of the best books I've read. She really hits home.The way Alix Kates Shulman writes about her kinship with her inner self just makes me want to know more. This is a book all women should read to gain self confidence and independence.This book shows the simplicity that all women should have at some point in their lives.Truely an inspiring book. A must read.

I found this book thought-provoking and moving. One beautiful afternoon, while reading it on my porch, I literally could not put it down. It could be a life changing book. I will be recommending this to my book club.

As a 50ish woman who has dabbled with the self-sufficient life (organic farm with goats and all the rest of the critters in my mid 30's) I found this book extremely readable and thoughtworthy. Though I still expouse less consumerism here in an urban setting and as an environmentalist, I sometimes lose sight of my goals as the author does in Manhatten. I also liked her approach or what she learned from her friend Margaret - what she learned at the nubble, she could apply in all aspects of her life. And in all places, whether it is the city or the back country. On my book club list of must reads.