From Publishers Weekly
Combining feminism and mysticism in a positive approach to menopause, Andrews ( Medicine Woman ) proclaims that this stage of life marks the liberation of women from the physical and psychological stresses of their younger years, and signals the onset of a more powerful life of the spirit. And while some menopausal women may not identify themselves readily as "sacred women, keepers of the eternal fire," fire is frequently invoked here, as are shamans and the ancient Native American Sisterhood of the Shields. The book, based on Andews's own experiences and those of four of her "apprentices," warns of symptoms of hormonal rebalancing and suggests the use of estrogen to counter osteoporosis, but also emphasizes that menopause can give "access to the beginning of a new, beautiful way of life" by the use of special "sacred" herbs; and through exercise, like tai chi; visualization; and ceremonies involving playing drums and dancing in honor of the "Great Spirit Mother Earth." For some readers, Andrews may open doors; for others, her position and her proselytizing will be bunkum. Illustrated.
Copyright 1993 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Kirkus Reviews
Given the title, as well as the neo-Castanedan spiritual odyssey that the author has undertaken in the past (Shakkai, 1992; The Woman of Wyrrd, 1990; etc.), Andrews's newest journey is ironically physical, even clinical, seeming to contradict her own thesis that a spiritual awakening compensates for the physical losses occasioned by menopause. In spite of her ritual dancing and eating, Andrews, we learn, suffers severe menopausal symptoms: sweating, crying, swelling, and physiological changes that she describes in amazing detail (bone loss; ``thinning of the vagina'')--with these details supplemented as she tells more than most readers need or will want to know about a gynecological examination by the ubiquitous heartless brute who so often shows up as a physician in feminist literature. Figures from previous books--the indefatigable Agnes Whistling Elk and Ruby Plenty Chiefs--appear, along with gourds, costumes, talking sticks, ``personal smudge bowls,'' a finicky diet, and personable wolves and uncanny bears who materialize for ritual dances. But instead of Andrews's usual dream flights to alien cultures or visits to other times, here she flies by scheduled airline, gets caught in traffic jams, mourns the death of her mother, and, while swimming with her boyfriend in Nevada, deals with the embarrassment of her wayward estrogen patch floating to the surface. She discusses menopause and women's life cycles with her apprentices, and confesses to having been raised in a dysfunctional family and abused as a child, and to being afflicted with denial. Boring, humorless, and unimaginative. Anyone interested in menopause should turn instead to Gail Sheehy's The Silent Passage or Germaine Greer's The Change. (Illustrations) --
Copyright ©1993, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.
See all Editorial Reviews