Myrna - Therapy, books, and brownie cups!

by Amy

I seem to be shying away from actual cooking. It hasn't been on purpose. Honest.

I actually have pictures of meals that have been cooked, photographed, and enjoyed... but they´re not what I needed to write about. Since the main purpose (to me, at least) of this has been a form of therapy through writing, I have allowed myself to write about what I feel I should be writing about, even if it´s not exactly what is expected here.

I don't think of Myrna as a cook. In fact, we usually see her eating meals in friends' homes (although she helps with cooking and sometimes contributes a dish instead of a decoration) or at (or from) the Bistro (but then, if you lived next to Olivier's Bistro wouldn't you do the same? Why cook?). 

Since I don't exactly have a "Myrna meal" scene from the books that fits this particular post... nor do I have Libby's creativity or brilliancy when it comes to creating character-based recipes, I'll just share an "invention" which, like Myrna's marmberry, isn't really a recipe. It's more of a new twist on old favorites.


Here's my take on Myna's marmberry, by the way. Although I should call it Almondberry. I don't really like marmelade and couldn't bring myself to buy some JUST to take a picture and not eat it. So I guess this is more like peanut (ne, almond) butter & jelly on an English Muffin. We've discussed comfort food before and as far as comfort food goes, I think I'll keep my brownies and pass on the chili and the English muffin with marmaberry!

“People wandered in for books and conversation. They brought their stories to her, some bound, and some known by heart. She recognized some of the stories as real, and some as fiction. But she honored them all, though she didn’t buy every one.”

I remember, as a child, playing make believe with my sister and with friends. Whenever we chose to recreate a beloved story, we’d call dibs on one character or another. Sometimes our choice had to do with the character we most identified with. I have a feeling that choices were most commonly dictated by how we would like to be seen, not who we thought we really were like.

Part of the magic of reading fiction is that we have the opportunity to live many lives and to put ourselves in a variety of shoes. Sometimes the shoe doesn’t fit – but it’s still fun to try it out (emotionally, that is) for a few days (or hours). Sometimes, the character fits us like a second skin. That can be comforting at times, but depending on the context in which the character is inserted, it can be extremely gut-wrenching. Sometimes it is in living through a fictional experience in a fictional context that we can come to terms with our very non-fictional feelings, prejudices, reactions, and impulses.

I think writing fiction could be an even more powerful experience in that sense. Marilynne Robinson describes it thus:

"When I write fiction; I suppose my attempt is to simulate the integrative work of a mind perceiving and reflecting, drawing upon culture, memory, conscience, belief or assumption, circumstance, fear, and desire - a mind shaping the moment of experience and response and then reshaping them both as narrative, holding one thought against another for the effect of affinity or contrast, evaluating and rationalizing, feeling compassion, taking offense. These things do happen simultaneously, after all. None of them is active by itself, and none of them is determinative, because there is that mysterious thing the cognitive scientists call self-awareness, the human ability to consider and appraise one's own thoughts. I suspect this self-awareness is what people used to call the soul." (Marilynne Robinson - When I Was a Child I Read Books)

I think that is why fiction is a form of magic.

“Stories have a strange power of attraction. When we tell stories, we touch hearts. If we talk about theories or speak about ideas, the mind may assimilate them but the heart remains untouched.” (Jean Vanier – Becoming Human)

I’ve used Jean Vanier’s quote so many times in so many posts that you are all probably wondering if it’s my favorite quote (it isn’t, by the way – although it’s probably in the top 10). It’s a powerful idea, isn’t it?

I think he’s right. I have long used fiction as a form of therapy. I am a life-long reader and while I absolutely believe that our personal histories and view of the world tinge our perceptions of the books we read, I also think that the books we read and the lives we live vicariously influence our view of the world and ourselves.

Louise Penny’s characters are wonderful. I would love to live in Three Pines and have these people in my life. In a sense, they are also a part of me and I can see myself as a patchwork of characteristics from this or that character…

As I said in the Peppermint Tisane post, I think I'm probably most like Reine-Marie (or is it just that I'd like to think I am?). I can frequently empathize with Beauvoir (I am nowhere near as well read or as sophisticated and collected as Gamache and can understand how baffled Beauvoir feels at times), I’m probably closest to Myrna in regards to profession (both as a psychologist – I’m a pediatrician, but counseling and supporting is more important than any other aspect of the job – and as a book pusher), but I’d love to be as well read and perceptive and contained (in actions – not in outfits) as she is. I envy Clara her ability to express herself through art. I would dearly love to borrow Gabri’s self-esteem and authenticity and wish I had a fraction of Olivier’s elegance.

Myrna’s character fascinates me. Shortly before I began reading the Gamache books I’d started organizing my thoughts regarding the idea of books as a therapeutic tool. For a few years I’ve been toying with the idea of studying the concept formally - in some graduate setting. Recent studies have tried to prove what book-lovers have known for years: reading can teach you empathy and increase your capacity for theory of mind; stories can be a powerful tool for teaching children, in particular those with social difficulties, how to decipher emotional cues, perceive others’ behavior, and interpret interactions; non-fiction and fiction alike can give people something to aspire to or be inspired by, and can, thus, promote resilience; and so much more. There’s even a branch of therapy that uses fairy tales in particular (although other stories can be used) to help a client, through identification with the fairy tale and its characters, retell their own stories.

For some time now I have used stories both with my own son and with patients to help them deal with social and emotional issues. It's amazing how much easier it is to approach sensitive subjects if you're talking about someone else. After you've dissected the feelings, put yourself in various positions in the interaction, and reacted to it from a distance, it's easier to talk about the impact that has (or might have) in your own life, who you are in that scene or story, and how you can improve in your own interactions. It doesn't take much. Actually, my favorite stories, in this sense, tend to veer towards picture books. And I learn more than the kids do. 

And then there’s literary therapy. Two friends, in England, have long helped each other deal with life’s challenges through a series of book recommendations. Recently they made it official. (http://www.theschooloflife.com/london/shop/individual-bibliotherapy/) If I’m ever in London I’ll be sure to make an appointment. They interview their clients and make a list of books they should read throughout their lives – in no particular order. They recently published a fascinating book called A NOVEL CURE. It has literary remedies for various ailments.

And, for those who haven’t read it, I absolutely fell in love with Jean Perdu and THE LITTLE PARIS BOOKSHOP. This character understands the therapeutic power of books (although he himself took decades to allow himself to heal).

“I wanted to treat feelings that are not recognized as afflictions and are never diagnosed by doctors. All those little feelings and emotions no therapist is interested in, because they are apparently too minor and intangible. The feeling that washes over you when another summer nears its end. Or when you recognize that you haven’t got your whole life left to find out where you belong. Or the slight sense of grief when a friendship doesn’t develop as you thought, and you have to continue your search for a lifelong companion. Or those birthday morning blues. Nostalgia for the air of your childhood. Things like that.” (Nina George – The Little Paris Bookshop)

I think Myrna’s character is brilliant because it is a sort of homage to the therapeutic powers of books. Or at least that's how I see it.

“I know what you mean. When I quit my job as a psychologist, I felt guilty. This isn’t our parents’ generation, Armand. Now people have many chapters to their lives. When I stopped being a therapist I asked myself one question. What do I really want to do? Not for my friends, not for my family. Not for perfect strangers. But for me. Finally. It was my turn, my time. And this is yours, Armand. Yours and Reine-Marie’s. What do you really want?” (The Nature of the Beast)

I don’t think she stopped. She just found the perfect setting and her optimal form of therapy. She may not be a practicing psychologist in the traditional sense, but she is still a therapist.

“But they both knew that words were weapons too, and when fashioned into a story their power was almost limitless.” (The Nature of the Beast)

And now for the brownies. I had to make desserts for a Christmas gathering and I was in another town (another country, actually), away from my own kitchen, and wanting to make sure to please everyone involved, but with little time to do so. My husband (always) would like a pie. My son prefers everything plain. One of my guests is a chocolate lover. And I, myself, am always excited when I'm in the US and there are fresh blueberries and raspberries for sale (we hardly ever get them and, when we do, they aren't usually all that nice). And dessert was created.

I just made brownies from a box. As soon as I pulled them out of the oven, while they were still warm and soft, I pressed a smaller dish into them to create a "brownie cup". I made dark chocolate, because they're my favorite. After the brownie cups had cooled, I added the finishing touches. The filling is that same lime (juice of 2 limes) and condensed milk (1 can) mix. I'd mixed them together and left the mixture in the refrigerator for a few hours so it would be firmer. Then I just decorated with some berries.

What I _didn't_ know before I made dessert was that one of the guests was a baker. As in he bakes things professionally for a living. I'm glad I didn't know beforehand. He wanted to know where I'd bought them (because they were cute) and ate more than one (because they were yummy). So if anyone else wants a nice looking dessert that takes very little time and effort and gives you more time to enjoy books and conversation with friends. This is it!