In one reading season past, I read an admissions essay that so artfully combined three of my favorite life topics that I assumed that the applicant had a spy on the inside. He described his involvement with an adopt a Holocaust survivor program, his love of all things Long Island (including the Islanders) and his interest in the U.S. Presidents. All you’d have to do is throw in an ode to pizza and a Zach Braff reference and you’d pretty much have the blueprint straight to my heart. (He got in.)
This is what I’d call a unicorn essay- in five years of application reading, I can’t think of another essay I’ve connected with more. There were certainly a ton of really compelling ones I read over the years that I still reference (for better or for worse), ones that drew me in because of a commonality or brought to light an incredible difference, but none that unfolded so beautifully across so many vastly varied topics which all held a personal draw for me. You can look for it but you can’t force it- and it’s a little bit of admissions magic when you do find it.
Most of my application reading lessons apply to personal reading too, and this one is no exception. It’s a nice thing to come across, but I never expect a book that speaks to me deeply on one level to also hold another incredibly compelling factor. It’s a little too much to ask, so you try not to expect too much sparkle.
This week, I found my unicorn.
I was drawn to the book because of the Hasidic connection, as it offers a rare firsthand look inside some of the most insular part of Judaism. I’ve mentioned before my interest in religion- mainly a fascination in how it manifests itself for different people- and I’ve forced many into conversations and blog posts about what that means, what Judaism is and how it can relate to a non-religious life. I won’t get back into it, but it was interesting during the traditionally holiest part of the Jewish year to reflect on how my own connection to Judaism has changed over time. Such seems the case for our author- the struggle to reconcile connections to tradition and the secular world.
The second piece of connection was the truly lovely account of a life with a sibling with special needs, but more importantly, the ways in which it can be difficult to live with that. I will clarify for readers here that this is not a personal experience; however, it is one I connect to deeply from my former job teaching swim lessons to children with special needs. To see someone write so beautifully and sensitively about it while still acknowledging the ways in which that can affect others is truly refreshing. It reminded me of- again- college essays: you could tell who truly felt strongly about an advocate position versus those who wanted community service on a resume by the tone of their writing and the phrasing chosen. Here, the author shows her personal conflict without sacrificing any amount of ultimate compassion.
Love, though, is the main point here. The title of the book, This Is Not A Love Story, is so reflected in the pages of the book in a number of ways. Apparently, there is a strongly held belief that there is no falling in love; that God decides who you marry and brings that person into your life. That’s the obvious connection to the title. But upon reflection, the intentionality of the title is not as subtle as I thought: this is also not a story about siblings loving each other. Sometimes love can feel like an obligation, and in that way it’s not a love story; it’s not romantic and it’s not really beautiful, but it’s about moving towards acceptance. And sometimes, that’s enough.
This is a really lovely book with some interesting personal history- it’s non-fiction, after the author published her first book using a pseudonym for fear of angering the community. It’s worth reading that part of the story as well. This is the truest form of non-fiction that reads like fiction and I cannot recommend it highly enough.
You’ll like this if: you’re looking for a strong story that touches on family, faith and love in their many manifestations.
Happy reading!
carlyreads 