A long book and not a lot happened. It was beautiful writing but I think I’m just not at a point in my life that I took a lot from it. The book was essentially one long reflection and acceptance of death. I wish I loved it, but it was too slow for me.
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Online yesterday, and in the December 23 print edition of The New Yorker, long time art critic Peter Schjeldahl informed us of his lung cancer and looks back at his life. He is, of course, a marvelous writer—a poet, too—but his reflections seem, I’m sorry to say, prosaic next to Julie Yip-Williams memoir about her diagnosis of colon cancer and her subsequent decline and eventual passing. (The book was edited and published posthumously, and includes an afterward by Yio-Williams’ husband Joshua Williams).

It’s not his fault that Scheldahl is 77 and Yip-Williams was 37; and he can be forgiven for smoking, drinking, and drug use—it is not for us to judge. But there is something so dreadful about a young mother being diagnosed with a type of cancer that usually effects old men, something so unbelievably heart-wrenching, and Yip-Williams’s evocation of the journey is so stunningly beautiful that one cannot really compare the two.

Her story was complicated from birth, and her life, even before her cancer, was driven by such courage and fortitude that one is in awe of her life force. This is a woman who symbolizes strength, stubbornness, devotion to excellence, gratitude for the life she was given, a molten anger, and a great intellect. I don’t imagine that she was easy to live with, but she has certainly given me thoughts to live by.

Anyone who has the courage to write a raw, beautiful, and honest account of the end of their life, deserves a 5 star review.
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In a time of some personal turmoil (blessedly, not health-related), this book helped me. I'm not sure why or how. Some people read fluffy/upbeat stuff to cheer them up, but that doesn't work for me. The author is a complex, amazing person, and the world is worse off for her not being in it. Coming from an unbelievably wretched start in life as an ethnic-Chinese refugee from Vietnam who was blind, she achieved great academic and professional success and a wonderful family live of privilege in NYC. After the cancer diagnosis (in her late 30s), it was pretty much all downhill. She catalogues her physical decline and roiling emotions without sugar-coating things. There is some repetition regarding early family life and her travels as a single young woman.
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This book was beautifully written. It has given me a lot to think about when thinking about how to live my life. The way she shows how she approached the end of hers is truly inspiring.

Such a well written memoir, of a young adult woman who battled so many odds to survive childhood, only to face Stage IV colon cancer in her late 30s. This is a reflection of a life well lived, with continued focus during her last years, months, days and hours on the things that mattered most to her - family, friends, education and spirituality.
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This memoir was stellar. Julie made me feel to be one of her friends. I was there with her throughout her journey. My heart ached the entire way through. I don’t even have proper words to really fully express how I feel after finishing this book.