Nonfiction - Memoir
2020 Sasquatch Books
Finished on November 12, 2022
Rating: 4.5/5 (Very Good)
Publisher's Blurb:
“I think anyone who saves an old house has to be a caretaker at heart, a believer in underdogs, someone whose imagination is inspired by limitations, not endless options.”
In this mesmerizing memoir-in-essays, Erica Bauermeister renovates a trash-filled house in eccentric Port Townsend, Washington, and in the process takes readers on a journey to discover the ways our spaces subliminally affect us. A personal, accessible, and literary exploration of the psychology of architecture, as well as a loving tribute to the connections we forge with the homes we care for and live in, this book is designed for anyone who’s ever fallen head over heels for a house. It is also a story of a marriage, of family, and of the kind of roots that settle deep into your heart. Discover what happens when a house has its own lessons to teach in this moving and insightful memoir that ultimately shows us how to make our own homes (and lives) better.
I loved this book! I came across it while perusing the shelves at Sunriver Books & Music a few of months ago. I have read all of Erica Bauermeister's novels and was thrilled to see that she has a new book out. My love of memoirs, and of Port Townsend, (not to mention the attractive cover art) made for an instant buy, and I was not disappointed. Having recently finished Ann Patchett's marvelous collection of essays (These Precious Days), I was delighted to read another exceptional nonfiction book by a favorite author.
In 2001, Bauermeister and her husband bought and renovated a decrepit home in Port Townsend, Washington. Not only was the house (built in 1909) lifted above the original foundation to stabilize the structure, but the author and her son dismantled the stone chimney, which suffered structural damage due a missing downspout. To cut expenses, the family of four (who traveled from Seattle to Port Townsend, via car and ferry) tackled the demolition of the plaster walls, as well as the removal of the asbestos shingles. This was no simple weekend project!
In addition to the logistics, predictable delays, and countless decisions relating to the design and craftsmanship of her new home, readers are given a glimpse into the inspiration and early musings of Erica's first novel, The School of Essential Ingredients. I love the way in which Bauermeister intertwines architectural facts and history with that of her own life, as a wife, mother, and author.
In an odd way, marriages deal with many of the same maintenance issues. Our relationships need our attention as much, if not more, than our houses. And sometimes here, too, the romance of maintenance is that it has none. Caretaking in a relationship is not flowers or date night--necessary as these are, they are the equivalent of a new color painted on your walls. Delightful, but not structural. Structural is unloading the dishwasher when it's your partner's turn, or making sure whoever gets home last from work is greeted with dinner. It's learning about mushroom hunting or musical theater or rugby because your spouse loves it. It is talking about the best of your partner in public, not the worst. It's listening to stories we have heard a hundred times before as if they are new. Often, it is just listening, period.
If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you are well aware that I love the Pacific Northwest. Port Townsend is one of my favorite places to visit, and my husband and I have enjoyed camping in our RV at Point Hudson Marina and RV Park, often walking along the same streets that Bauermeister describes in her memoir.
I think it's time for a return visit to this charming town. And I will most definitely return to House Lessons. It's a keeper!