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WELL DONE! Non-fiction - Hotel du Lac by Marion Cohen
Hotel du Lac by Marion Cohen
There were periods of times in my life that I seldom read a book. Teaching in a secondary school, or any grade level for that matter, always required a multitude of work outside of the school day. During the weekends, I always had papers to grade and part of the weekend was always reserved for preparing lessons for the coming week. Leisurely reading did not seem to be my choice of activity when I did have some blocks of time to seek pleasurable activities.
In these unencumbered blocks of time, I preferred to fill journals, writing endlessly about my own life experiences. Occasionally though, I did manage to come across a book to read especially when I traveled, something to pass the time during the flights, or while relaxing at a tranquil beach.
At one of those serene beaches in Nassau during a spring break, I remember reading the novel, Loving Frank by Nancy Horan. It was pure enjoyment as the sun poured its calm and soothing rays on the sandy white beach. As I turned each page, passing the afternoon, all my pent-up anxieties drifted away like the marine blue waves delicately ebbed back to the ocean.
I recall a woman sitting several feet away making her way to my lounge chair. She had noticed the cover of the book I was reading, and interrupted my reading. She asked what I thought of the book I was engrossed in and fully enjoying. I had moments before just read a passage to my traveling companion, a dear friend, and we had laughed together about the author’s assessment of some of the failings of married women. Both of us, eternally single, had shared such a good laugh.
The stranger seemed compelled to make her assault on the story. I listened, and finally responded that I was thoroughly enjoying the novel. Not having her own brusque opinion validated, she walked away, and joined what I assumed was her elderly husband several yards away.
My friend and I laughed once she exited our spot on the sand. But it was so amazing to me how certain books, and certain passages can speak to a reader with such familiarity. It is as if the writer knows exactly what is in your head, and absolutely what is in your heart. How fortunate it is to stumble upon such a story.
Another novel that I connected with in that way was Hotel Du Lac by Anita Brookner. I had just retired from my very rewarding teaching career, and now the hours opened up and I chose to fill many of them reading, especially at the end of each day reading before I drifted off to sleep.
Hotel Du Lac is the story of a woman writer who flees her intended groom on her wedding day, knowing she truly loves a man who is only available to her sporadically. Her professional associates whisk her off to Switzerland to escape the scandal of her unexpected change of heart. They plan for her to stay at the Hotel Du Lac in Interlaken, Switzerland, far from her home, and during that time she is charged with finishing her latest romance novel.
I was immediately captivated by the story much like a tornado’s force collects objects into its swirling motions. The main character’s description of her life with the man she loved, and their part-time love affair gave me clarity in my own life’s love affair. Her stay at the Hotel and the characters she encountered regaled me, page by page.
During that time, I was contemplating writing my own novel, and after I completed reading Hotel Du Lac, I fantasized writing my own story in a location like the Hotel in Interlaken. To say that book made a hug impression on me, would be a great understatement. I had spoken about that book to some friends and my sister, some of whom read it as well after my rave review.
A couple of years later, for my 60th birthday, my sister, Rochelle, presented me with a gift of a trip to Switzerland. It was a country I had always wanted to visit, but somehow never had had an opportunity in recent years. I had been taking care of my aging father for several years and had given up traveling on vacations to ease his day-to day burdens. Rochelle, living out-of-state, wanted to do this for me, a few short years after our dad had been laid to rest. She meticulously planned a trip for me with herself and her husband. Rochelle had been to Switzerland decades before, and was familiar with all of the places she wanted me to experience.
During the month of October, we arrived in Zurich where we visited for several days until it was time to leave for a 3-day trip to Grindelwald to experience the Swiss Alps. I was already in awe of the streets and scenes of Zurich, but looking forward to our next adventure.
We arrived at the train station, and my world-traveled sister retrieved our tickets and ushered us to our train. We would need to transfer two times to other trains during this trip, but Rochelle assured us it would be a beautifully picturesque journey. We made the first transfer of trains uneventfully, and settled in for the next part of our trip. The countryside scenes were lovely, and I sat so contented at the views.
As we neared the next stop where another train transfer was necessary, I could feel the train decreasing its speed. The three of us gathered our baggage in anticipation of exiting the train. But looking out the window my eyes saw an extraordinary view. My sister saw it too, and my brother-in-law, Rex, noticed the startling expressions on both our faces, and wondered what was happening.
The train came to a stop, and we stood to exit the train, but I did not take my eyes off the sight a few yards away. There it was, the Hotel Du Lac. Rochelle ushered us across the outdoor station as our next train arrived immediately. The three of us got situated on the third train of our excursion, but I never took my eyes off the Hotel Du Lac. It was an experience that is difficult to describe. It was a piece of my life actually coming to life. Rex was completely confused by our odd behavior until once situated on the train, we began to explain what all the fuss was about. As a writer himself, and artist, he too became thrilled at what was happening which I passionately refer to as my “literary moment”.
Along with all the meticulous planning my sister had done on my behalf, this unplanned, surprise encounter, was indeed, the highpoint. The next day my brother-in-law, Rex, was expecting his friend from Geneva to visit and spend the day catching up. My sister suggested that she and I get train tickets to return to Interlaken and explore the hotel for part of the day. I was thrilled, and so excited on the train ride back to the hotel where that beautiful novel was set.
It did not disappoint. An old building with small French doors leading out to small terraces from every room. The lobby was decorated with old world charm. We decided to take lunch on the outdoor patio overlooking the lake. Afterwards we walked to an area of town with little shops as I imagined Edith Hope, the main character in the novel, walked by.
Soon it was time to depart and travel back to Grindelwald. At the train station, one more glance at the Hotel Du Lac, and I knew I too would write my own novel, and maybe one day return to the setting of such genuine inspiration.
