Museum of Ordinary People

I've been reading a lot of books lately. As I type this I have 29 books physical books out, and another two downloaded to my phone. To be fair, two of the books are ones Ashley took back to school, and another two Don decided looked interesting and added to his pile, but that is still a lot of books. 

And they all look interesting. That's on top of the 100 I have logged into my reading list in 2023. I have over a dozen on suspend hold at the library. My reading ranges from the latest Janet Evanovich and other cozy mystery writers to Neil King Jr.'s book American Ramble, the latter I read after hearing him give a presentation at the Princeton Public Library and having dinner with him at a friend's house. If I hadn't traveled so much this year, the list would have been longer.

That said, I just devoured Mike Gayle's Museum of Ordinary People. My first feelings were of the pain of remembering cleaning out Honey Bunny's house six years ago. Not only the physical pain of the cleaning out the house, but the hurt I didn't realize I still felt that not only did no one offer to help, but the anti-help I received from Don and his siblings. It is a lot of thankless work cleaning out a home someone lived in for over five decades. Jess, the heroine, did it in a solid week and I had the luxury of spreading it into smaller chunks over months, partially because it was emotionally draining and because I wanted to find proper homes for as much as possible. 

There. I said it. It felt good to make that realization. It helps me to move forward.

As for the rest of the book, I fell in love with how she made a new community of friends. I recently made a new friend, so I related to how she felt finding people she could bond with.

I also love the idea behind the Museum of Ordinary People -- it is a collection of things that are super important to someone, but not necessarily to the next generation. It is that one (often) large item you really want to save, but don't have the space for when you downsize. The hand-carved table. The military footlocker. The vanity. The roll top desk. A pram.

For the main character it was an outdated set of encyclopedias that she pored over as a child.  

I saved my grandmother's nativity set and bring it out each year. We have a couple of pieces of furniture Don's grandfather carved. 

Rather than a collection of things once owned by the wealthiest, Jess creates a museum of things once owned by regular people. In it is something everyone can relate to. It reminded me of when I toured the mid-century exhibit at the Cornelius Low House in New Brunswick just as the pandemic was starting. I stared at the dishes and furniture and thought I stepped back into my childhood.

What would you want saved?