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katellison's review
5.0
gorgeous and delicate. engages with other texts in a way that feels both associative and intentional, improvised and inevitable. structurally unique in an understated way.
man. just really fuckin beautiful.
"And then the road bent left. 'I had seen people turn pale before, but I had never seen blood leave skin so thoroughly and so fast,' the book went on to say. I dreamed I was picking red flowers. To the right, a large tree of some kind beginning to leaf out, one gray asbestos wall of the general store visible behind it. We had just met. By summer the green Valvine advertisement no longer in view. The eyes staring fixedly without blinking. The scaling of the mountain of the elements. Place the wrist at the point between the eyebrows. The arm so thin as to be a line and then it was gone."
man. just really fuckin beautiful.
"And then the road bent left. 'I had seen people turn pale before, but I had never seen blood leave skin so thoroughly and so fast,' the book went on to say. I dreamed I was picking red flowers. To the right, a large tree of some kind beginning to leaf out, one gray asbestos wall of the general store visible behind it. We had just met. By summer the green Valvine advertisement no longer in view. The eyes staring fixedly without blinking. The scaling of the mountain of the elements. Place the wrist at the point between the eyebrows. The arm so thin as to be a line and then it was gone."
categal's review
5.0
I thought I could not love Kathryn Davis’ writing more, but then I read this.
Davis is telling the story of losing her husband to cancer, of what it was like to be a teenager on a boat heading to Europe, of living as an adult, of life at home growing up, her husband, their pet dog, her love of Virginia Woolf, all of it jumbled from one thought to the next.
It makes perfect sense. It is profound, it it beautiful.
Davis is telling the story of losing her husband to cancer, of what it was like to be a teenager on a boat heading to Europe, of living as an adult, of life at home growing up, her husband, their pet dog, her love of Virginia Woolf, all of it jumbled from one thought to the next.
It makes perfect sense. It is profound, it it beautiful.
redheadreading's review
reflective
slow-paced
3.25
A little too fragmented for my tastes but every now and then snatches of this would just gut me.
motifenjoyer's review
emotional
reflective
4.0
"In other words, there was a time in my life when there was no distinction in me between reader and writer. I was, in every fiber of my being, both, simultaneously; I was becoming an artist."
froon's review
2.0
my head hurts from having to do the grunt work of pulling these disconnected vignettes into something of substance.
there were flashes of beautiful, touching prose but having to wade through so much intellectual posturing was exhausting… the beginning of the book being especially egregious.
there were flashes of beautiful, touching prose but having to wade through so much intellectual posturing was exhausting… the beginning of the book being especially egregious.
jrl6809's review
challenging
reflective
sad
medium-paced
4.0
I admire non-fiction and memoir that takes risks with structure in ways that are more typical of fiction, and this definitely fits the bill. Aurelia Aurelia is Kathryn Davis' story of the loss of her husband; however, instead of telling the story linearly she instead organizes her chapters around themes, ideas, places, etc. She tells anecdotes about her life but also includes some theory and discussions of things like literature and TV shows. It reminded me of authors such as Maggie Nelson and Melissa Febos, who I adore.
Because the book is so short, however, and because the sections are told in short snippets and jump around so much, I had a hard time emotionally investing in this one as much as I would expect to emotionally invest in a story about the death of the author's partner. It does occur to me, though, that this book was probably written more for Davis herself (as a processing tool) than for the reader. And I respect that, and think it works really well when viewed as almost a journal. It allows us to see what processing grief on the page looks like in real time, rather than after it has been edited and reorganized for the consumer. I think this is one that will stick with me and continue to rise in my esteem over time, and I'm definitely looking forward to reading Davis' fiction.
Because the book is so short, however, and because the sections are told in short snippets and jump around so much, I had a hard time emotionally investing in this one as much as I would expect to emotionally invest in a story about the death of the author's partner. It does occur to me, though, that this book was probably written more for Davis herself (as a processing tool) than for the reader. And I respect that, and think it works really well when viewed as almost a journal. It allows us to see what processing grief on the page looks like in real time, rather than after it has been edited and reorganized for the consumer. I think this is one that will stick with me and continue to rise in my esteem over time, and I'm definitely looking forward to reading Davis' fiction.