THE GOOD LUCK OF RIGHT NOW Matthew Quick
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If you don't feel refreshed after reading this book, I don't know what will give you this feeling. After losing his mother to cancer, Bartholomew starts writing letters to Richard Gere. Yes, it sounds random. Yes, it is very unexpected. But it makes perfect sense once you read his letters and understands what's going on. I've never been a fan of Richard Gere's. I'm always suspicious about actors who keep playing the same role and marrying multiple younger women. Bartholomew helped me sympathise with him, though. His letters reminded me that something as frivolous as a celebrity idol can sometimes make a huge difference in someone else's life. Nevertheless, this book does not concern Richard Gere. It concerns Bartholomew, his mother, his priest, his young therapist, his young therapist's abusive boyfriend, his friend from group therapy, his friend from group therapy's sister and the Dalai Lama.
Some people stand against religious icons that end up becoming as famous as our regular celebrities. It would be naïve of me to assume this rule applies to all, but I like to think that fame, in this case, helps calling attention to their cause - and money, much needed when it comes to charitable initiatives.
Anyway, between Dalai Lama's lessons and personal philosophies, this book reminds us that we are a huge community that should be working towards general satisfaction and happiness, rather than getting rich - or even happy - at someone else's expense. It also vouches for the humanity within each and everyone of us. Helping people in need is much easier and fulfilling than neglecting them and criticising whatever choice they made that led them to become miserable - we just forgot that notion along the way. As the Dalai Lama once said, and Bartholomew reproduces in one of his letters: "We must recognise that the suffering of one person or one nation is the suffering of humanity. That the happiness of one person or one nation is the happiness of humanity." Moving on to character construction, Quick builds these people with so much care and detail that we can actually imagine them with a beating heart, walking across the street and smiling at us for no reason whatsoever. Also, both (living) women portrayed in this book have suffered some kind of abuse. This is not just fiction. Most of us know at least half a dozen women who have been physically or psychologically abused, we're just not aware of that. It's still difficult for women to speak up against their abusers because society keeps finding ways to put the blame on the victim instead of admitting to have a cultural and educational problem that needs fixing. Still on character construction, taking into consideration that we see things through Bartholomew’s point of view, sometimes it feels like everyone else is too crazy, and he should just stay away from them. However, he’s just as extraordinary as the others, not a bit less “crazy”. That’s what’s absolutely beautiful about it, actually. It makes you see that “normal” is a very personal, and therefore impossible notion.
Speaking of personal, two things in this book reminded me of past events in my life. First, the “good luck of right now” theory made me think about this made-up theory I came up with as a child. I couldn’t measure the enormity of the universe, so I thought that, somewhere on the other side of the world, everything that was happening to me or to people I knew was happening to someone else, too. Like, if I went on a picnic with my mom and I ate an apple and a piece of cake, someone my age in Japan, or wherever, was doing the exact same thing with his or her mother. I guess it was some sort of early conception of parallel universe. Call me Einstein.
The other thing was Bartholomew’s relationship with his mother when she was about to die. The whole “pretending to be Richard Gere” stuff. About 5 years ago, my grandfather spent his last months in a hospital, and at some point he couldn’t identify us anymore, so instead of asking him questions to see if he remembered me, I just took my daily 5 minutes with him at ICU to grab his hand and sing a few songs he loved to listen to when he came to the city and stayed with us. Mostly Brazilian music from the 1930′s. He wasn’t opening his eyes anymore, but he grabbed my hand back and, when I asked him whether he remembered those songs, he nodded.
I agree with Bartholomew that, when things come to a certain edge, we should just play along and make it as comfortable as possible for those we love.
SLIGHT SPOILER
I believe the stray cats in the end are a metaphor for people like our characters, who don't have a proper job and are not therefore considered worthy citizens. But they are. They were born, they are here and they should have the right to a decent life simply because they exist. We are taught to hate on a daily basis, like we were supposed to kill each other for the survivors to prosper. This is insane! Let's love each other! Let's love!
Also, I like it that we kind of put the pieces together about Father McNamee’s relationship with Bartholomew quite early, but we have absolutely no idea how the latter is going to react when he finds out, so it’s still a surprise.
END OF SPOILER
The world sucks, but each of us can make it suck less.
I would recommend this book to people who liked “The Curious Incident of the Dog at the Night-Time” and everyone in need of a boost of hope.
