THE PERENNIALS

5 stars

Because we're octogenerians, conversation between my husband and I every once in a while turns to where we'll need to live when we actually start to get old. On one thing we totally agree: neither of us is particularly excited about spending time in any kind of elder care facility. But that's not because we've heard horror stories about how poorly old folks are treated; rather, it's that we know our mental and physical health would suffer enormously anywhere we couldn't routinely interact with other people of other ages.

Focusing on and promoting age-oblivious lifelong interaction instead of pigeonholing people by age group (i.e., Baby Boomers, Millennials) and sequential life "stages" (i.e., childhood/play, then education, then work and retirement) is what is needed if we're all to reach our full potential, maintains the author in this intriguing book - that's just one of several benefits. For the record, I totally agree - and I honestly don't know anyone over age 50 who gets a kick out of being stereotyped simply by virtue of the year of birth.

But alas, that's the real-world truth; most of us can attest, for instance, that's it's darned near impossible to get back into the work force once we've crossed that line into "senior" status. We also know, though, what employers have been conditioned to ignore: that our skills and experience remain valuable assets that we want to contribute - and that we're capable of and willing to learn new skills (yes, even if we're learning them from someone 30 years younger).

What is needed, then, is nothing short of what the author, a management professor at the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania, calls a "multigenerational revolution" - shifting gears to the concept of "Perenniels," or those who are not identified by the decade in which they were born but rather by the way they work, learn and interact with others. Doing so will free individuals from near-mandatory adherence to those life stages in exact order, instead allowing them to move in and out of each as the need, or desire, occurs. When this happens, not only will those aforementioned sectors - education, work and retirement - take on a different and more meaningful framework, but all lives will be enriched by the experience of interacting with people of all ages.

Abandoning the sequential model of life, the author emphasizes, would usher in a multitude of other benefits to society as a whole; consider, for instance, that by 2030, the largest consumer market will be age 60 and up - with big implications for virtually all retail markets if for no other reason than buying power. Consider the stress faced by most new college students (traditionally those who enter right after high school) to decide what they want to be not only when they grow up, but for the rest of their lives. Such an attitude just isn't appropriate, or feasible, in this era of rapid technological changes wherein having to learn new skills and switch career paths more than once is inevitable.

Much pressure would be lifted if young people didn't believe they were locking themselves into a box by choosing a college major because they'd be able to shift gears at any point. And at the typical retirement age of 65, most of us can expect to have at least as many years ahead of us as we spent on the way to that high school graduation. Why shouldn't we be free to fill them with more education or a new job instead of being, essentially, put out to pasture?

There are countless other negative ramifications of continuing with our linear approach to life, and the author artfully presents the benefits that shifting to a multigenerational approach can bring. To some extent, we're already seeing it happen in some sectors (as an academic retread in my 40s when I returned to college to finish a bachelor's degree and go on to earn a master's, for instance, I was the only student in my classes who actually wanted to sit in the front row; these days, so-called "nontraditional" students are anything but). It's certainly a start, but the author maintains that the timeline for meaningful change needs a jumpstart. He lays it all out in this well-written book, complete with references, citations and resources for further enlightenment. It certainly gave me a bounty of food for thought, and I thank the publisher, via NetGalley, for the opportunity to read and review it.

The Perennials by Mauro F. Guillen (St. Martin's Press, August 2023); 272 pp.

FIFTY THINGS THAT AREN'T MY FAULT: ESSAYS FROM THE GROWN-UP YEARS

5 stars out of 5

I'm not sure which I did more of while reading this wonderful book: chuckle out loud or wipe away tears. It helps, I suppose, that I was a huge fan of the author's long-running "Cathy" comic strip. Perhaps more important, while I'm older than she is by nine years, I, too, was a champion of the feminist movement (still am, as is she) and was for a time sandwiched in between parents and a daughter, all of whom were growing old, and up, way too fast. Sadly, my parents are gone now - and my daughter has become the "stuff" inside the Oreo of life, caught between a grown daughter of her own and her aging parents (which, Lord help us, means me and my husband).

In any event, oh, how I can relate - and I'm quite sure all but teenybopper females will do so as well. These essays were written, Guisewite says, at a time when she's trying to "declutter" her own life (hmmm, I'm pretty sure that's a word that passed through our daughter's lips last time she popped in for a visit). Feminist though she may be, Guisewite admits to feeling torn between Betty Crocker and Betty Friedan (conjuring up decades-ago memories of whipping up a casserole so my family wouldn't go hungry while I attended a Gloria Steinem lecture). I choked with laughter - and frustration - as she recounted getting "stuck" in a sports bra; as a gym newbie, I can tell you it's not fun (though worse, perhaps, is the embarrassment over having to call someone to your rescue). And before I caved and joined the gym, I, too, resisted the call to exercise, rationalizing that "I exercised yesterday and I don't look any different."

There are far too many other shared feelings and experiences to mention here (especially since I don't want to spoil the fun for other readers). In the end, she sums up the dilemma we're in perfectly: "My whole generation is reeling from the stunning truth - that we, who are way too young and hip to ever look or act old, are not too young to pass away." Aha - maybe that's why I glance proudly at the year-old Aristocat tattoo on the top of my flip-flop clad foot as I open the morning newspaper first to the obituaries pages. Torn indeed!

In short, I love, love, love this book - highly recommended. Many thanks to the publisher, via NetGalley, for the opportunity to read and review an advance copy.

Fifty Things That Aren't My Fault by Cathy Guisewite (G.P. Putnam's Sons, April 2019); 336 pp.

A SLIGHT TRICK OF THE MIND

5 stars out of 5


Unless it has James Bond in the title, my husband and I rarely go to a movie. But when I learned of the recently released Mr. Holmes starring wonderful actor Ian McKellen, I put it on my must-see list immediately. Not long afterward, I discovered this book, which is the basis for the movie - and in my rarely broken rule of book before movie, I got my hands on a copy. Now that I've finished with it, I'm doubly determined to see the movie and Mr. McKellen's performance - what a plum role this must be! 

Though relatively short at 272 pages, this isn't a book to be read quickly; there are simply too many details that would be missed by skimming. It begins in 1947 as Sherlock Holmes, now 93, is living at a farmhouse in Sussex, England, keeping bees and and claiming to "no longer crave" the bustle of London or Baker Street. He hasn't been in contact with his partner, Dr. John Watson, for a few years, and (as he does with most people), he keeps an emotional distance from his housekeeper, Mrs. Munro (played by Laura Linney in the movie). His does, however, take pleasure - more than he likes to admit - in teaching her son, Roger, to work with the bees.

In his journal writings, Holmes takes pains to dispel what he believes to be myths about himself (largely conceived, he says, in Watson's writings of their adventures). Never, he insists, did he really wear a deerstalker, nor did he ever smoke a big pipe or call his partner by anything except his first name ("...he was John, simply John").

Holmes recalls various cases and events from other times, trying hard to recall the details and pertinent facts (his greatest fear, he says, is the forgetfulness that has accompanied the aging process). The chapters skip around in time a bit, and it's a little hard to discern whether Holmes's musings are fact or fiction, real or dream - intentional, I'm guessing, so readers can share the character's uncertainty. In fact, almost from the beginning, I felt dogged by a feeling of sadness as Holmes struggles with the realization that his once-brilliant mind has lost some of its luster.

Excellent book, with or without the movie.

A Slight Trick of the Mind by Mitch Cullin (Anchor reprint, May 2006); 272 pp.