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A review by alannah_irwin
The Patron Saint of Pregnant Girls by Ursula Hegi
4.0
This follows a community in the 19th century Fresian Islands, and it is beautiful. Without giving too much away, the main characters are a woman who lost her three children in a freak wave, a child forced into a school for pregnant teenagers, the nuns who run the school and the mother who raised her autistic daughter in a circus. The writing is very flowery, but I enjoyed it. There are a few points where the storyline becomes a little bit muddled, dropped and picked up again in a slightly off way, but that is the only thing I noticed!
"The Old Women lean from their front windows for hours. Pillows between bosoms and windowsills, they let gossip ferment. Across the space between their windows they comment on everyone who passes; click their tongues at couples who walk hand in hand in public; applaud when children play hopscotch or do cartwheels-- just as prior Old Women applauded them when they were little girls-- and in that become children again, living all moments of their lives at once-- child, woman, Old Woman(...) Done with the heavy lifting of life, the Old Women help with the cooking. Help with the grandchildren. Teach them good manners and how to scrape the soles of their shoes and brush off sand so they won't drag it through the house. Still, sand makes it indoors, and the Old Women sweep it away. Sweeping. Always sweeping. Sometimes four generations live in a row house or next door to you. The youngest and the oldest are most revered: the youngest adored; the oldest valued for the wisdom you can read in their faces. As you age, you grow into your true nature: more loving if you are born loving; more envious if you are born envious; more patient if you are born patient; more greedy if you are born greedy. The imprint of your life maps your features."
"The Old Women lean from their front windows for hours. Pillows between bosoms and windowsills, they let gossip ferment. Across the space between their windows they comment on everyone who passes; click their tongues at couples who walk hand in hand in public; applaud when children play hopscotch or do cartwheels-- just as prior Old Women applauded them when they were little girls-- and in that become children again, living all moments of their lives at once-- child, woman, Old Woman(...) Done with the heavy lifting of life, the Old Women help with the cooking. Help with the grandchildren. Teach them good manners and how to scrape the soles of their shoes and brush off sand so they won't drag it through the house. Still, sand makes it indoors, and the Old Women sweep it away. Sweeping. Always sweeping. Sometimes four generations live in a row house or next door to you. The youngest and the oldest are most revered: the youngest adored; the oldest valued for the wisdom you can read in their faces. As you age, you grow into your true nature: more loving if you are born loving; more envious if you are born envious; more patient if you are born patient; more greedy if you are born greedy. The imprint of your life maps your features."