The Blue Jay's Dance: A Birth Year

It seems that a week doesn't go by when I see a woman on the subway or in a coffee shop reading a book from the What to Expect When You're Expecting series. Those detailed tombs of writing seem to be sent to people planning or in the process of rearing children as if by storks. (I've even heard of some workplaces keeping the book What to Expect... in the human resources supply closet, to be given as a gift when a woman announces she's pregnant.) However, upon reading some chapters from those books and informal discussions with mothers, a theme that reoccurs is that some women will explicitly instruct others not to read those books. Why? Not because they don't contain a plethora of knowledge but precisely because they do. That is, these can wind up really scaring a parent-to-be because they contain all the zillions of possible physical and emotional things that can go wrong during pregnancy and the first years. I think everyone can agree that raising the anxiety level, especially of a woman during pregnancy, is quite a less than desirable outcome. What if there was a book that spoke honestly about the experiences of pregnancy and childbirth and, more importantly, treated these experiences as natural events rather than listing all the possible things to be feared? Better yet, what if there was a book that did all those things and spoke of the spiritual aspects of pregnancy and children, in a gentle and non-denominational way? Well, a book with all those features and more is available in this book. Erdrich is of Native American ancestry and a writer by profession. Her background is rich with symbolism and spiritualism and is wonderful at weaving her story into the passage of seasons. At times I felt I was really looking through her eyes in the room where she wrote, looking out at a large picture window in her remote rural home. She saw the lives of various wildlife, from all types of birds to deer to wild dogs, intertwine with the passage of time from the beginnings of her pregnancy through the first year of her daughter's life. This book seems to be very realistic primarily because it does not compartmentalize pregnancy or infancy; Erdrich does not shy away from concurrent events in her life including changes in relationship with her husband, observations of nature, memories from her own childhood and recipes she craves during pregnancy or for their nurturing powers. In more popular baby manual-type books, the subjects of actual labor, sleep deprivation, nurturing "instincts," and patience are sometimes glossed-over or described in such a way to possibly make a parent feel guilty for not automatically possessing certain qualities. This is yet another way that Erdrich's book masterfully succeeds as she lovingly and with understanding tackles these and other important subjects. She describes with humor and passion of a "no-sleep week" by stating how she wanted to call 911 Emergency because her

I loved this book when I first read it before my daughter was born. Re-reading it now, as a new mother, I find it even more remarkable. Louise Erdrich has perfectly captured both the frustration and surpassing joy of life with a new baby. The book is also a beautiful nature narrative, with observations on the changing of the seasons interwoven with the story of a child's first year. Highly recommended!

I picked up this book simply because I love Louise Erdrich. I was soon sinking in her poetic verses and touching stories, all laced with a bit of humor and irony. Her outlook on nature and the circle of life will lighten your soul and send you sleep with a smile on your face. This is the perfect gift for any friends expecting a child.

The Blue Jay's Dance, by Louise Erdrich is not a book solely for women, though I believe that primarily women will be drawn to read it. The story of a birth year is much more interesting to women than it is to men. Men are more likely to read about other kinds of heroism. My experience has taught me that the heroism of birth doesn't interest men much, nor do tales of the enduring devotion of motherhood. However, this is a book that I think men should read and could read with as much interest and a feeling of comradery as any war novel. Men like to solve problems and to build things. So do women. This book is about building a family and about solving the problems that arise everyday in the heat of battle. Erdrich centers her book on the strength, courage, stamina, and sheer artful intelligence that she is able to draw on to get through her childbearing years. She draws from a vast crows of living beings: grandparents, parents, birds, foxes, cats, flowers, spiders, and food. She uses everything she observes in her world to learn from and to use as friends to help guide her in her journey. Nothing is touched without being turned over at least once for investigation. Is this useful for me? Will it help me? What does it teach me? She is searching for paradigms that she can associate with her interior world and she finds many. The tone of this book is soft, lulling, cooing like a lullaby. We feel like babies rocking in the arms of its author. And this is where the book hits a center for both men and women. A mother's loving, patient, caring arms are important in helping to develop the emotional and spiritual life of a child. She gives us a mirror in which we can recapture our soul. The Ojibwe word is wabimujichagwan, or "looking at your soul." She guides us into a way of finding our boundaries for ourselves. Through her words she does for the reader what a mother does for an infant. She is "helping to form a spiritual soul self" through the concentrated "love gazes" that comprise her descriptions and observations of the dance of life. My sense is that Erdrich would like to heal everyone with this book. She reaches out to whisper in our ear that everything will be fine. She worries about our mental health, our physical well-being, our emotional selves, and our capacity for enjoying life. But it all seems to take its toll on her and she is not always up to the task. Through the pages of this book, Erdrich discovers her own inner strength and is able to "outwalk her loss"--any loss--like the mallard duck, who, despite being raped and bloodied by her attackers, walks on with a "little force field around her, a frail armor of determinations." I don't know a man alive who could resist such a brave tale.

The Blue Jay's Dance is a book about the power founts of motherhood, horizon sickness, sense husbandry, desperation, fiddleheads, and devotion. In spare, elegant prose, Erdrich examines the natural, the creative, the powerful, and the sacred qualities distinct to places of rogue human wilderness. Hers is a proactive pregnancy involving baby-shaping by meals and, at one point without plumbing, nightly walks into the field under a skyful of stars, then back to the house for a poetry session. The end effect is a transcendent contextualization of the mundane against a magnificent backdrop of mortal flaw and whimsy of one mother and maker. The Blue Jay's Dance is wise, enchanting, and, in places, achingly lovely. Overall, a work of rare and beauty, demonstrated resilience and spirit. For anyone who is -- or has -- a mother.