Book got on my nerves. Felt like it was one of those books where people give up something, usually for a year (buying things from China, TV, etc) and then write a book. But she didn't try very hard since she moves to rural Maine for 50 days (around 6 weeks, duh!) but still listens to music, the radio, goes to church, answers the door, picks up neighbors on the road, goes to the store.. and also gets letters from friends and family. Many of us were much more isolated during the pandemic. ( )

The book was interesting and had several passages with observations that were worth of further reflection. At times her observations were clothed in more drama than the actual experience may have deserved. Then again it was her experience and who am I to judge? I'm glad I read the short book. ( )

50 days alone
"loneliness is the poverty of self — solitude is the richness of self." —

Faced with a rare opportunity to experiment with solitude, Doris Grumbach decided to live in her coastal Maine home without speaking to anyone for fifty days. The result is a beautiful meditation about what it means to write, to be alone, and to come to terms with mortality.

I experimented in February 2009 with the idea of reading a short novel a day -- after all, February is the shortest month of the year! Fifty Days of Solitude was one of my least favorites of the books I read during that month. Grumbach set herself up to experience fifty days alone, without contact with another human being, to see what she would learn. But there is something immensely false about her solitude, as she herself acknowledges several times: she knows it will come to an end, and she has the opportunity to end it at any time she chooses. In fact, she must deliberately avoid human contact (such as by attending church, but sneaking in late and sneaking out early, so as to avoid other parishioners). She is no hermit in the wilderness, but a woman who has chosen to close the doors on her cozy home and hole up with her opera recordings and her books. She seems to discover nothing, really, except that she got lonely. No surprise there. If you really want to know about the creativity that solitude can bring, or the depression and loneliness, read May Sarton: Plant Dreaming Deep for the former (it's an ecstatic book, absolutely a transcendent journal) or Journal of a Solitude for the latter.

A little misleading - she still went to church twice a week, shopped, even picked up her neighbor on the way into the village. Not true solitude, but still a reflective time. ( )