Jane Austen? George Eliot? Maya Angelou? (That’s a lot of guesses, isn’t it?)

Is there a limit on guesses? It’s helped me recall and reclaim the marvelous energies of these women, the ones I’ve named and the ones from others. I have another for consideration: Louisa May Alcott

I would like to live the life of my husband’s great-great-great-grand grandmother Patty Session, the famous midwife. She crossed the plains in a covered wagon, at age 52, was self-supporting, and delivered over 3,977 babies with only “two difficult cases.” September 24, 1847’s journal entry - Patty Sessions arrived in the Salt Lake Valley. “I had driven my wagon all the way, except for the llast two mountain, and had walked 1,030 miles.” She delivered babies until she was 85, and died at age 99. She built a schoolhouse for her 50 grandchildren. What a woman!!

Katherine Graham?

I’ll guess Pearl S. Buck for Judith’s literary pioneer. As for me, a combination of people would make up the historic figure’s life I would like live: the courage and conviction of Sophie Scholl (though I would not want to die in the Nazi’s hands), the faith and kindness of Mother Teresa, the intelligence my mother possessed, and the “who cares what anyone else thinks” attitude of Molly Brown.

I would choose Dooce, b/c I only wish I could make a living writing like she is. Doing what I love, calling the shots, making my own rules. She’s a literary pioneer for a new millenium.

I’d like to have the education & material things as I do right now, but, my first favorite time and place would be Paris in the 40’s with all the famous authors. I’d be included in their cafe talks and I’d be living on the Left Bank….My SECOND choice is this: I am a complete and passionate fan of MOTOWN. If I could go back just to the 60’s, I’d want to be one of the Funk Brothers (a female FB)- or, be a Motown singer, or song writer. After all these years I am still motivated by Motown music and can never get enough R&B.

Judith—In addition to Jane Austen I would also guess (do we get three?) Edna St. Vincent Millay, or Anais Nin. As for another life….me living Jackie KO’s, or Diane de Poitier or Madame Recamier’s life. Not that my own hasn’t been fabulous, but I like everything new! And these three ladies were very much alike. Years ago I was thrilled to be at nearly deserted Chenonceau on a blustery weekday with a fire crackling in the main hall…and to walk into de Poitier’s lovely study overlooking the River Cher and touch her desk. They held the most powerful men of their day enthralled by their femininity, brains, taste and wits. Both Jackie and Diane were expert horsewomen and terrific hostesses. Voltaire and Rosseau dined at de Poitier’s table and Jackie brought the best brains and art into the WH. All three were grace and beauty personified.

This reminds me of a game that I and some of my friends used to play over coffee; if you could visit any time in the past for two weeks as an observer, what era would you visit and what three things from the present would you bring with you? Fascinating idea! For Judith’s literary pleasure-not-glory literary pioneer I would choose between Jane Austin and Georges Sand, leaning heavily toward Sand on the pleasure factor. I would love to go back in time as Nefertiti. What a fascinating period in Egyptian history! I would mainly want to know if she was the mother of Tutankhamen and if she became pharaoh after the death of her husband, Akhenaten or Amenhotep IV. Most people see her as just another pretty face but that lady had to have strength and smarts to survive the court intrigues and the constant threats against her monotheistic husband by the temple priests. Lots of intrigue, loads to ancient mysteries to solve, and an interesting husband to boot!

Willa Cather. O Pioneers, My Antonia, Death Comes For the Archbishop. Nebraska Native (Red Cloud) and an editor in New York before such things were done by women. Obvious ones would be Jane Austin and Virginia Woolf. I’m dying to find out. Do tell, Ms. Manners!

This makes me feel like I’m an absolute illiterate, again. Hee hee … the last time I felt this way, I returned to graduate school for another Masters — all because I entered a grand library, and felt I hadn’t yet read 1/2 the books in the collection. What fun that was with my youngest in tow, who was simply shaking her pre-adolescent head watching her insane mother dive into “the books.” That reminds me, one early morn, I was reading an original manuscript, pacing back and forth, reading aloud in our living room at 2 AM, as youngest slept peacefully upstairs in her bedroom. “What is that, Mom?” she called down to me. I answered Chaucer, and mumbled the year giving me the challenge that required, for me, reading it aloud. No response — for a while, then, “MaMA! Men haven’t changed at all!” Love that 4th daughter, to this day — she is now giving her siblings fits about a venture she’s planning on taking that will change her life, career, domicile, and more. Me? I’m too tired, and too old to ever believe I’m powerful enough to change anyone, much less at the age of 34 (baby of the family) and one who cancelled a highly formal wedding 5 days before the event, because he lied to her and she caught him in the deception (yes, she was grief-sticken, but … did not turn back!). That offspring just phoned from Houston to tell me that I’m the only one in this “damned family who’s ever mentioned they made any mistakes, or had people in their lives that were miserable—everyone else is under the very false impression they’ve make perfect decisions all along. Where do they think I was when they were going beswerk, and driving you nuts?”