It’s no secret that I’m in the middle of an era of transformation. My husband and I started thinking about how to make a big change (and what that change might be) in January 2020. We were somewhat waylaid by a global pandemic and then general corporate upheaval. We started talking seriously again about change when I decided I’d had enough of that particular upheaval. But as much as I know what I actually want (a quiet life with my family somewhere with great community where my husband and I can both afford to be artists), I don’t know how to afford that. Which is a long way to say that Brooklyn by Colm Tóibín landed in my lap at a good time.
Village or Opportunity
In Brooklyn, Eilis is an intelligent young woman in post-war Ireland with very few prospects. Jobs are scarce and most of the energy of the young women in her village centers around getting married. Eilis is given the chance to move to Brooklyn where she encounters a whole new booming world. She has a job with the potential to move up, she has an education, there isn’t even (in the beginning) a marriage market to speak of. And there are exciting new goods to be bought for herself and her loved ones back home. All of her waking hours go to working or going to school, to the extent that I wondered how she would have time to build friendships or romantic relationships at all (I really was exhausted at times reading about the hours she kept, but also she didn’t have kids and I forget what that’s like).
It’s an interesting book because Eilis kind of floats through these experiences and even her choices feel more inevitable than chosen. But Tóibín does an excellent job of showing the juxtapositions between the two worlds and I really felt like I was with Eilis in many of her experiences (even the boat, ugh). I suppose the floating feeling mirrors the feeling of being trapped when we don’t see that there are paths we’re choosing between, consciously or not.
Slight spoilers incoming—if you don’t want to know, skip to the next heading. Eilis does manage to find a partner and then she’s called home to Ireland. The village she encounters suddenly shows what she’s been missing. She’s surrounded by community and a quieter life. There are even better job prospects than before. And Eilis has to choose which she wants.
What I See in Our Economy Now
The stock market is swinging high because corporate profits are high (in part) because layoffs are high. Everyone is being asked to do more with less. CEOs are doubling down on unproven technology (AI) because they see the potential for more profits and more cost savings. Those cost savings mean more layoffs.
It’s a squeeze. And it’s coming from all sides trying to get the most almighty dollars for someone, somewhere.
AI is a Bubble
Many AI projects I’ve seen are top-down demands rather than creative applications from the workers who could be working in partnership with the technology (and thus are best equipped to plan for implementation, if only they had the space to have a creative thought on how to do so). Don’t even get me started on the automated systems behind stock market bidding.
Diminishing Returns
Also, the potential wins are finite. The workers losing jobs won’t be in positions to buy the goods or services that keep our economic engine rolling. Nor do the white collar workers in the industries they were conditioned to covet want to suddenly become blue collar workers in completely other states, no matter how many jobs are opened up by the current administration ejecting the workers already doing those jobs. So the goods won’t get made, which is okay if no one can buy the goods. We won’t be able to import them, either, at least not at any price close to what we used to pay.
There is a diminishing return on the choices that are being made right now.
To Each His Own (At Our Peril)
It feels like things used to be different. Not in a hazy “heaven” sort of way, but in the idea that there was some collective responsibility. When a company was struggling financially, there were sometimes conversations about choices workers could make (reduced salary, etc.) to keep the company from having to lay people off. Now my friends tell me stories of highly profitable companies that are laying people off just to make the quarterly earnings report look that much better.
Fear Serves No One (Good)
This all strikes me as a bit desperate and short-sighted. At the same time I see workers who can afford it opting out of this extractive system to either make something of their own or wait and see what happens next.
What happens next is my big question. At some point, companies are going to need their best and brightest back in order to envision the creative possibilities that put them ahead of their competition. There was a glimmer of this in the middle of the pandemic when the gloom of the initial “what will even happen to the world” fears wore off and companies were willing to invest in growth through staffing up. So maybe this climate of desperation turns toward one of opportunity when this new global fear lifts a bit.
A Third Option
Still, I keep thinking there is opportunity to make something better now, not just for me and my family, but for all of us. We just need someone who can see what the next first step toward that is.
My son has a book called There Must Be More Than That! by Shinsuke Yoshitake that’s all about choices. At the end the mom offers the daughter two types of eggs and the girl blows up, “Not just boiled or fried! There are more ways to make an egg than that!” and then lists dozens of other options. I love this book with all my heart because it reminds me how much we narrow our lives by just choosing between what we’ve seen before.
I’m an artist. I’m usually good at looking things from new and unexpected angles. I haven’t cracked this one yet, but if you have ideas of how to build toward something better, I would love to hear them. Together we can make rolled eggs, scrambled eggs, an omelet, a painted egg, shakshuka, or even something no one has ever dreamed before. Even if we choose a boiled egg in the end, isn’t it better to at least imagine the possibilities?
If you want to learn more about either of these books, pick up a copy of Brooklyn or There Must Be More Than That! from Bookshop.org. Your purchase keeps indie bookstores in business and I receive a commission.
No one embraces and embodies the complexity better than Edan Lepucki, and Woman No. 17 delves deeper and with more nuance into the mother-child relationship than anything I’ve read in a long time. Motherhood is an obsession for Lepucki. From 
I first heard of Mary Louise Kelly’s It. Goes. So. Fast.: The Year of No Do-Overs on the radio, duh, as NPR is often playing in my home and she is the much loved host of All Things Considered. I remember laughing at her anecdote about the school nurse calling her when she was on the tarmac in Iraq, insisting that she come and get her son. I remember also relating to the deep push-pull that inhabited her interview (and this book) between living for your children and living for yourself. That sounds selfish to me when I type it, and maybe that’s part of the problem as I’ve been trying for all these years to figure out how to be myself and a mother and an artist and a wife and sometimes Corporate Barbie. It’s a lot. It’s so much less, even, than Kelly is doing, and I loved having this insight into her world and her thought process.
I first fell in love with Bathurst’s writing when I read an excerpt of 
Maybe I’m always thinking about silence. That’s part of the reason why I put Aflame on my Christmas, birthday, and Mother’s Day wish lists. Of course I love 
I have also 
I can’t remember if I bought Getting to Yes because I wanted to be better at salary negotiations or if I happened into it at a Little Free Library, but it called to me from the to-read shelf this week. It’s a simple book and effective in it’s framing. The writers even say at the end that the reader probably knows a lot of the things in the book instinctively, even if they haven’t put organized thought into it. I did learn a lot about my own tendencies with positional bargaining and how empathy may have saved me from the holes I dug with that over the years. What was most fascinating, though, was the “What If They Use Dirty Tricks?” chapter, which basically lays out all the ways someone could be negotiating with you in bad faith (and what to do about it).
Speaking of Booker and his 25-hour speech (of which I watched both too much and not enough), there has never been a better time to speak up than now. I think that’s why I’ve kept Small Things Like These beside me all these weeks. It’s a quiet story about one man’s simple life in an Irish town and how he discovers something horribly wrong that everyone seems to know about but no one is questioning. And no one wants him to question, either.