I try to approach each new book I read with a clear, open mind. I don’t want any preconceived notions to cloud my reading experience. I do not read any published reviews of the book before writing my own, and this helps me stay focused on my own interpretation of the work. On weekend mornings, I’m frequently seen running around the house with my hands over my ears, rushing to the radio to turn off NPR before a book I’m reading is about to be reviewed. Usually, this “hear no evil” approach gives me a fresh take on the memoir, and I’m able to focus entirely on my own opinion of the story. But this week, I learned that there’s a fine line between turning a blind eye to reviews, and reading a book with blinders on. For some books, prior research of the author and her body of work is imperative—otherwise, I’ll find myself lost in the woods.
Such is the case with Patricia Harman’s memoir, Arms Wide Open: A Midwife’s Journey. Harman’s writing style is enchanting, and I fell in love with her narration instantly. When the book begins, Harman is a seventies-era, nature-loving hippie who lives with her young son on a commune in West Virginia with no plumbing or electricity. And although it was her dream to live off the land, she feels unsatisfied. She longs for something to give her life meaning, and finds solace in teaching child-birthing classes to her friends and fellow commune dwellers. Ah-ha, I thought. Now she’ll decide to become a midwife. I assumed this would be the story of a woman who became a midwife—hence the subtitle, “a midwife’s journey.” I read about Harman’s feeling of dissatisfaction at the commune, tales of assisting the deliveries of her friends’ and neighbors’ children, and her decision to go to school to become a nurse-midwife. But I was never given the satisfaction of seeing Harman actually succeed as a working midwife. Instead, Arms Wide Open stops short, and then leaps ahead in time nearly forty years, to 2008. (more)
