Read this book yesterday. Bought it yesterday afternoon, went to read a bit before I went to bed, couldn't put it down. Finished it at 2 in the morning. The writing is beautiful, clear, astonishingly unsentimental and honest. It's a memoir about the last three weeks of her mother's fight with cancer. Amara, you won't like it. Kira, you will.
I've been looking so hard for something to read that didn't make me work too hard, but didn't turn my brain to mush either. This was it. I'm sad it's over. It's been a long time since I read a book that I mourned for after it was done.
Speaking of mourning, I don't recommend reading this when you're already sad. That part--the part where I wept and wailed at 3am for my mother and everyone I love, even though they're fine--that was not so good. Poor Sam.
2 comments:
Yeah. I won't be reading it, and that's why. I guess I teeter on the edge of wailing a lot anyway!
Oh, my goodness. I'm in Chicago. And this morning, I went to a panel discussion ("Writing About Illness") that this woman led. And then I read your blog about this book. I think I'm going to read it now. Cool.
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