Dismiss Whatever Insults Your Own Soul
The Body, Brain, & Books: Eleven Questions with writer Zoe Zolbrod
Welcome to another edition of The Body, Brain, & Books. If you enjoy reading these quick, insightful interviews brimming with wisdom and hope, please subscribe to Beyond!
What are you reading now?
I just finished The Guest by Emma Cline and started reading Rachel DeWoskin’s work-in-progress for my writing group.
What are your most beloved books from your youth? Did you ever hide any from your parents?
The Little House on the Prairie series is what made me a voracious reader, and my love for those books has negatively impacted my sleep habits to this day. My parents insisted that I go to bed at the same time as my little brother, with whom I shared a room, but if he fell asleep before I did, I could get up and read on the living room couch. The thrill of slipping down the stairs back into the world of Laura and Meg, with all their dramas and exotic privations! I’ve been reading past my bedtime ever since. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis was another early favorite. I was obsessed with that book, and eventually someone got me a boxed set of the whole series. So fancy! And too tempting. Our family friend was furious with me when I confessed that I skipped ahead and read the last chapter of the last book. The Forgotten Beasts of Eld by Patricia A. McKillip, came a little later, and that one really got into my psyche. It’s a fantasy about a solitary young woman who can call mythical animals to her. Men encroach on her realm and try to claim her powers, and also her sexuality, it’s hinted at. I think of it as the bridge that took me from children’s books to adult ones.
Around eleven or twelve years old, I started reading explicit teen and adult books and hiding them from my parents. Jacqueline Susan novels, the Joy of Sex, any thick volume where people were getting it on, preferably in unusual ways and settings. I developed another life-long habit at this time, which is to bury the book I’m reading under the pillows when I get up from bed.Â
What’s your favorite book to reread? Any that helped you through a dark time?
House of Mirth by Edith Wharton. I read it for the first time as a teenager, studied it in graduate school, and have read it many times since. It remains my idea of a perfect novel, impeccably written, impeccably structured and crafted, unafraid of the hard truths.
No one or two or three titles come to mind as having gotten me through particular difficulties, but the existence of books, the act of reading books, has helped me through every dark time and every partly-cloudy time as well as every sunny day. Reading books has been the cornerstone to my mental health. The concentration required to read, the communion with another's imagination, and the way books can both provide escape and take me deeper into myself and the world feel absolutely essential to who I am at my best.
What’s an article of clothing that makes you feel most like you?
Hmmm. I can’t think of one existing piece of clothing, but, hypothetically, a pair of just-right baggy Levis. To feel most like me, I’d need the belt, shoes, rings and bracelets to also be just-right. I can be flexible with the shirt.
What’s the best piece of wisdom you've encountered recently?
That hormone replacement therapy should be considered for women like me, who have perimenopausal symptoms. I started treatment and quickly went from shattered sleep patterns and nights filled with hot flashes to mostly restful sleep. What a difference it makes to everything!
Tell me about any special relationship you’ve had with an animal, domestic or wild?
I’ve never thought of myself as an animal person, but my cat, Dot, who died four years ago, showed me the depth of love that can exist between a person and a pet. Our relationship took time to build, but within a year or two we were sympatico. We moved and sometimes even breathed in concert. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so consistently, quietly present with another being. We now have four cats, and I love each one of them, but they’re quite separate from me. I don’t expect that I’ll ever again feel so enmeshed with another animal.
What's one thing you are happy worked out differently than you expected?
I did not expect to remain in the Chicago area when I moved here at 22, but I’m glad I have rooted myself and feel a deep love for Chicago and Lake Michigan.
Singing in the shower or dancing in the kitchen? Or another favorite way your body expresses itself?
Dancing in the kitchen, or in my chair. Or, just walking briskly. I love and crave moving my body.
What are your hopes for yourself?
That I retain my mobility for as long as possible, and that I remain curious and deeply engaged with books and ideas until the end of my days. My father is my role model here.
What’s a kindness that changed your life?
Being raised by a kind father changed my life from what it could have been otherwise, but in terms of a particular kindness, I think of something that happened to me when I was 21, and in Barcelona. I had snuck away from the boyfriend I had been traveling with, who was unstable, controlling, and abusive. I used the only money I had on me to purchase a train ticket back to England, hiding in the station until the train boarded. I started to breathe deeper once the train left the station, and calmed down enough to assess my situation. It was something like a 24-hour journey to where my friends were in the north of England, and I had no money, no food, nothing. The woman who I sat next to started peeling an orange. It smelled delicious. She offered me some, speaking Spanish and using gestures, and I accepted, something I would not normally do. She spoke enough English so that we could communicate, in that way of people who are willing to make a patient effort to be understood. Once we became comfortable with each other, she shared with me the other packets of food she had. Torta wrapped in tinfoil is what I remember. I was a vegetarian then, and she was too, unusual in Spain at that time. She was so kind in the way she shared it. Her eyes were so kind. We made a nighttime transfer together at the French border, together navigated being in a dark compartment with all men. Her kindness restored me to myself during a very difficult period, and I feel grateful to her to this day. Her name was Remedios, which she told me means remedy.
What’s a guiding force in your life?
I really had to think about this question. The phrase "guiding force" conjures for me something outside of oneself, a north star in the distance that is setting a course. That's not the way I orient my life. At times, I've been powerfully driven by certain motivations—to express something in writing, to provide for or protect my kids—but that felt situational. A concept that resonates more for me is that of a core essence. I have a strong sense of self, which includes both a somewhat stern morality rooted in empathy and a call towards freedom and pleasure. Those things can be in conflict, but mostly I experience them as providing me with balance. While I was thinking about this question, I came across a Walt Whitman quote: "Dismiss whatever insults your own soul." Yes! I thought when I saw it. I trust my own soul to steer me.
***
Zoe Zolbrod is the author of the memoir The Telling, the novel Currency, and the novel Coin of the Realm, forthcoming from Northwestern University Press. Her essays have appeared in places such as Salon, HuffPo, The Guardian and The Rumpus, where she served as the Sunday co-editor.
Meet me in the comment section
Pick a question from above to answer in the comments! Do you have a special relationship with an animal? What is your biggest hope for yourself today? Tell me all about it.
Gosh that story from the train is so touching, goes to show you never know how much a small kindness could mean to someone or what they might be going through at the time.
I love these questions, Jane! Gosh, now I want to spend an entire weekend rereading house of mirth! It’s been too long.