The Secret Life of Bees

I read and loved Sue Monk Kidd's The Secret Life of Bees when it first was published in 2001. At the time it seemed one more lovely, insightful book on my long list of 'I really liked that book and wish everyone would read it'.

Last night I watched the movie. In a rare deviation from my deep infatuation with the printed word, the movie is a giant step beyond the book. For a movie where I already knew the ending and which is at its heart not truly a mystery story, it was an edge of the seat viewing from beginning to end.

There is much in the story of any life and more in these lives than some others. But the telling never winced from that which was hard or true. There was pain, anguish, anger and confusion. There was also love, companionship, respect and joy.

Looking back, one other fact distinguished the movie from the book. President Obama.

Somehow Obama's election between the reading of the book and the watching of the movie caused a subtle shift from a 'they' to 'we' story. I can't quite put my finger on the exact cause and moment of this feeling. And part of me suspects I wouldn't care for the answer and what it implies about my previous "unbiased" state of mind. But truly for me the book was "their" story and the movie was "our" story. Maybe sometimes we don't recognize the more illusive forms of exclusion until we see and touch its opposite.

I am grateful for a good read, a spectacular performance and a world in which we all can grow and change. Each of our stories should be told as well as The Secret Life of Bees.