The first thought that comes into my mind if you say the word “grace” is the physical sense of poise, dignity and a quiet confidence. The other meanings of “grace” seem to me to have been co-opted by religion – particularly Christianity- and I’m rather less comfortable with that. In this book, Julia Baird explores the concept of “grace” in ever-widening circles: Our Souls, Ourselves in Part I; Our Circles in Part II, Our Strangers in Part III, Our Sins in Part IV and Our Senses in Part V. I think that even this structural skeleton of the book highlights its major weakness: trying to stretch the concept to cover too much. It is a digressive book, interweaving research, commentary and her own personal struggle with cancer, and I’m not sure that she completely succeeds here.
As it says on the front cover:
Grace is both mysterious and hard to define. It can be found when we create ways to find meaning and dignity in connection with each other, building on our shared humanity, being kinder, bigger, better with each other. If, in its crudest interpretation, karma is getting what you deserve, then grace is the opposite: forgiving the unforgivable, favouring the undeserving, loving the unlovable.
Which all sounds rather gooey and do-goody to me.
In Part I she does try to define “grace”, noting that it is wrapped in the everyday but still extraordinary (p. 8). Her definition which remains nebulous, comprises three elements:
- to be fully, thrillingly alive
- something undeserved
- the ability to see good in the other and to recognize their humanity
Part I Our Souls comprises two chapters. Chapter 1 ‘2.3 Grams’ considers the 1907 experiment of weighing a soul: the difference in weight between when someone is still alive, and when they have died. Chapter 2: Anonymous Samaritans explores the phenomenon of blood donations, and why people might do something altruistic for people they will never meet.
Part II Our Circles has four chapters, two of which are largely autobiographical. In Chapter 3 ‘Grace Inherited’ she writes of her mother, who visited women in prison, most particularly Katherine Knight who was jailed for life without parole for the horrific murder of her boyfriend. Yet her mother spoke of Knight’s gentleness. This chapter is bookended by Baird’s response to her mother’s death, sitting vigil as she died, and then the grace of a friend afterwards. Chapter 4 ‘Icarus Flew’ continues the theme of grief as she talks about the death of an ex-boyfriend in a Garuda aircrash, and the difficulty of finding a place for grief as a former girlfriend in the hierarchy of grief. Chapters 5 (‘Inhale the World’: An Ode to the Fire of Teenage Girls) and Chapter 6 (‘On Being Decent Men’) are particularly apposite as the spotlight on domestic violence has turned to changing attitudes amongst men and boys – an approach that I find rather insufficient, personally.
Part III Our Strangers is again a bit of a grab-bag. Chapter 7 ‘Other People’s Lives’ points out that we see only a sliver of other people’s reality, and that grace would extend our lens further to see the whole person. Chapter 8 ‘The Comfort of Strangers’ talks about kindness of others, especially during travelling when through unfamiliarity and language problems, we are often at the mercy of people unknown to us. Grace? or just human decency and empathy? Chapter 9 ‘The Discomfort of Estrangers’ looks at the obverse: the harassment of online warriors liberated by anonymity. In Chapter 10 ‘Restlaufzeit: In the Time We Have Left We Must Dance’ she returns to the theme of illness and the precariousness and preciousness of life, both for herself and for others.
Part IV Our Sins is the longest section of the book, and while I found this the most interesting part of the book, Chapter 11 ‘Napoleon’s Penis: What We Choose to Remember’ does not seem to fit into the other chapters, which deal more with forgiveness and justice. In Chapter 11 she discusses public memory, the role of the historian, and what we choose to remember in public figures. Moving then to forgiveness and justice, in Chapter 12 she looks at ‘When You Can’t Forgive’; the expectation that women in particular should forgive, and the potential for weaponization of forgiveness by imposing it on the victim. This is picked up again in Chapter 13 ‘The Stolen Generations: What Does Forgiveness Mean?’ where she reminds us of Scott Morrison’s exhortation that forgiveness be displayed the part of Aboriginal people. This completely ham-fisted ‘suggestion’ was brusquely rejected by indigenous people who bridled at the inappropriateness of placing an expectation of forgiveness onto another person. In Chapter 14 ‘We Will Wear You Down with Our Love’ she turns to truth-telling, and the treatment of Stan Grant by the ABC and other media commentators, especially those from the right-wing press. Chapter 15 ‘The Callus: On Restorative Justice’ refers to the callus, the fibre that knits bones together, and she looks at Restorative Justice schemes as a way of knitting together after injury, starting with the story of Debbie McGrath, who participated in one such scheme eleven years after her brother was killed by his best friend. In Chapter 16 ‘A Broken Place: People Who Have Forgiven’ she explores examples of forgiveness rooted in faith, whether it be Christianity, Islam or Judaism. While I found these interesting, I think that they would have been better framed in a discussion of forgiveness in its own right, rather than trying to squeeze them into a ‘grace’ framework.
Part V ‘Our Senses’ is only short. Chapter 17 ‘Fever Dreams’ again refers to her experience of cancer, and her determination to be “fully, thrillingly alive”. In Chapter 18, the last of the book, she returns to the idea of ‘grace’, referencing the hymn Amazing Grace, from which she has taken the title.
As you can see, this book wanders off down a number of different pathways, all of which are enjoyable enough to follow, but which do not cohere into a rounded whole. Which is ironic really, as one of the definitions of ‘grace’ that she cites in the book is that given by Marilynne Robinson who described grace as an ethical “understanding of the wholeness of a situation”. This is the definition which most resonated with me, and the one to which I (unsuccessfully, I’m afraid) aspire.
My rating: 7.5/10
Read because: It was on the shelf.
The Resident Judge of Port Phillip 