The Borning Room

I picked up this book in the library because of the familiar name: Paul Fleischman. It is the story of a family in Ohio, farmers who raise their children to love nature and fight for injustice. Set in the mid to late 19^th century, many historical references are made throughout the story, including slavery and women’s suffrage. Though labeled historical fiction because of these references, I can’t help but feel that this is just the story of people, a glimpse into a particular family over time as generations are born and die in the borning room. The broad subject of people seems to be Fleischman’s strong suit, or perhaps I only think that coming out of Seedfolks. Written from the point of view of a young girl (who grows up through the book), Fleishman has some surprising insights into farm life and the thoughts of a young girl. And yet, the story was not about the farm, or just the girl. The story was about the family; the grandfather who worshipped nature and running water on Sunday mornings, the mother who taught her children to love music and the written word, the father who worked hard for his family and adored his wife, and then all the children. There were so many children, it was hard to keep them straight! In the beginning, I got the impression that Georgina was the firstborn, due to the length of discussion around her birth. Georgina was not the firstborn, but a blessing considering the childbearing difficulties her mother had had before her. Georgina was not the last, either, though her mother died in childbirth many years later.

Fleischman’s ability to describe characters in such a brief amount of time amazes me. Throughout this particular story, many characters were introduced and I felt like I could have known any of them, like I’ve met them all before. And yet, as the title of the book suggests, the story is truly about the borning room, and all that it has seen through the years. In its deaths, it has seen the past; in its births, it has seen the future. Life is cyclical, as seen by the eyes of these wooden walls, built by Georgina’s grandfather and still used by her grandchildren. Even though the story is finished, I’m still impressed with the depth found in its few pages. In 100 pages, Fleischman gave me just enough to be satisfied and yet too little, so that I still want more.