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3.82 AVERAGE
3.82 AVERAGE
I am not sure what I expected of this book, but what it turned out to be far surpassed anything I could have guessed. I immediately fell in love with the mother and her family, and was so interested in her story. I also vastly increased my list of books to read :) I sincerely hope that I make even an 1/8th of the difference that this woman made, and can come to the end of my life with so much knowledge, love and peace. Amazing read.
reflective
sad
slow-paced
This was such a beautiful book. Not only is there the "books about books" aspect that I always love - but this was a very touching and evocative story about a son connecting with his mother in a different way once she is diagnosed with cancer. I read it in two days and cried at the end. This will stay with me for a long time to come.
This was the one book I purchased in Feb '13 and I expected to really like it. I always enjoy reading about other people reading and it was on so many "Best of..." lists.
But I found Scwalbe's writing too pretentious. His family, at least from my perspective, was upper-class. And despite (forgive me) his mother dying of cancer I never found myself able to emotionally connect with either of them. I felt bad about this as I was reading, because I felt like I "should" like Will's mom. After all, she worked with refugees, built libraries in Afghanistan, and was dying. And she was more likeable than her son, the narrator. But I could not recommend this book to anyone in my world. Between the name-dropping, obscure "book club" choices (I recognized less than a half-dozen titles and I read book lists sometimes more than I read books.), and the mother keeping up her East Coast, off to the second home to "rest" (though almost never will admit to needing rest), and dinner party lifestyle up to the very end, I just could not emotionally connect to this family's story.
I understand my review is subjective and we read to understand people different from ourselves. But I would also defend that something about this family's emotional journey was flawed that left reading this potentially moving book, flat.
But I found Scwalbe's writing too pretentious. His family, at least from my perspective, was upper-class. And despite (forgive me) his mother dying of cancer I never found myself able to emotionally connect with either of them. I felt bad about this as I was reading, because I felt like I "should" like Will's mom. After all, she worked with refugees, built libraries in Afghanistan, and was dying. And she was more likeable than her son, the narrator. But I could not recommend this book to anyone in my world. Between the name-dropping, obscure "book club" choices (I recognized less than a half-dozen titles and I read book lists sometimes more than I read books.), and the mother keeping up her East Coast, off to the second home to "rest" (though almost never will admit to needing rest), and dinner party lifestyle up to the very end, I just could not emotionally connect to this family's story.
I understand my review is subjective and we read to understand people different from ourselves. But I would also defend that something about this family's emotional journey was flawed that left reading this potentially moving book, flat.
I enjoyed this book very much. The idea of a mother and son reading books together is, what the author calls, like a ballast for their relationship and conversations. I can relate to that. I have someone difficult in my life and I try very hard to discuss and share books with him in order to find common ground. It is working perfectly!
The reviews on this book are all over the map. I can see why. For me, though, it was just the kind of book I needed to read.
The reviews on this book are all over the map. I can see why. For me, though, it was just the kind of book I needed to read.
I did not find this book “sanitized” or “saccharine sweet”. Some views expressed annoyed me, some passages made me roll my eyes - and all thru that I enjoyed it thoroughly. Death is a part of life, as are books, as are our loved ones. This is a story about all three.
It's been almost a month since I finished this book, and I am still hesitant to put my thoughts down here. But I have now finished four more books since this one, and I really need to move on with my reviews!
On the one hand, this book was incredibly depressing. The author's mother is diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer, and it is the story of this diagnosis through her death. The author and his mother were very close, and we see them go through many stages of grief as the story progresses, even though she is still alive. He often expresses a desire to continue living life and not giving things up to be near her more often because he is afraid she will take that to mean she is getting worse and he is giving up hope. But on the other hand, he is afraid he will regret not spending more time with her, knowing that she only had a limited time left. It seems to me that with their book club, they had a great compromise -- they weren't going out of their way to spend inordinate amounts of time together, but the time they were spending was "quality time".
On the other hand, the book was quite inspiring. The mother was quite the woman -- extremely ambitious and successful and very worldly. She was more interested in helping others than herself and spent the end of her life not only reading books but also supporting efforts to build a library in Afghanistan. She was the kind of woman who paid for other people's medicine when she had only just met them, volunteered to travel to a refugee camp in a foreign country based entirely on a letter without verifying that the place really existed first, offered bus seats to elderly or pregnant women even when she was incredibly weak herself from chemo treatments, and insisted on living life to the fullest right up until she just couldn't anymore. Cancer is a scary disease, but her attitude was really great throughout it all.
And of course, lots of great recommendations for books to read, and analysis of stories!
But one thing bothered me. Ok, two related things. First... and this is probably just because I am young but ... the book started and we are made to feel all sad that this horrible disease was attacking this woman who was doing so much and, and, and... and then we find out that she is over 70 years old. And I mean... it is still horribly sad when cancer claims a life, no matter whose it is, and especially this woman who had done so much for the world but they just seemed so SURPRISED by it. It would be different if this were a 20 year old writing about his 45 year old mother. But when you are over 70 don't you sort of expect these things to happen? Hopefully that doesn't sound too insensitive -- it's still very sad. Mostly because you have all this time to build up to the death instead of it just happening.
And on a related note the second thing... The whole time, I was sort of expecting the father to die. Not that I wanted him to, of course, but ... he was much older than the mother, and it was made clear that he was (is?) not as healthy and outgoing as his wife, a bit overweight, etc. There was even one point in the book where the author notices at dinner one night that his father looked even more fragile than his mother did and had seemed to have aged a lot in the last few years. I thought at that point that he would realize that he should be making an effort to spend time with his father, too! And really, his father being so much older, it was very possible the father could have died from natural causes, or a stroke, or complications from pneumonia, even before the mother did just from ... being old. I think as our parents age, we need to make an effort to spend time with them or reach out and talk to them more often whether they have cancer or not! (not that I am very good at this, but ...)
Anyway, this was an excellent book, if a little pretentiously written at times, and it really made me think and evoked a lot of different emotions as I was listening. I often got to work and had to sit in the car for a few minutes to stop crying and fix my makeup before I went in to face the day. Not the best going to work material, but I'm very glad I experienced it.
On the one hand, this book was incredibly depressing. The author's mother is diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer, and it is the story of this diagnosis through her death. The author and his mother were very close, and we see them go through many stages of grief as the story progresses, even though she is still alive. He often expresses a desire to continue living life and not giving things up to be near her more often because he is afraid she will take that to mean she is getting worse and he is giving up hope. But on the other hand, he is afraid he will regret not spending more time with her, knowing that she only had a limited time left. It seems to me that with their book club, they had a great compromise -- they weren't going out of their way to spend inordinate amounts of time together, but the time they were spending was "quality time".
On the other hand, the book was quite inspiring. The mother was quite the woman -- extremely ambitious and successful and very worldly. She was more interested in helping others than herself and spent the end of her life not only reading books but also supporting efforts to build a library in Afghanistan. She was the kind of woman who paid for other people's medicine when she had only just met them, volunteered to travel to a refugee camp in a foreign country based entirely on a letter without verifying that the place really existed first, offered bus seats to elderly or pregnant women even when she was incredibly weak herself from chemo treatments, and insisted on living life to the fullest right up until she just couldn't anymore. Cancer is a scary disease, but her attitude was really great throughout it all.
And of course, lots of great recommendations for books to read, and analysis of stories!
But one thing bothered me. Ok, two related things. First... and this is probably just because I am young but ... the book started and we are made to feel all sad that this horrible disease was attacking this woman who was doing so much and, and, and... and then we find out that she is over 70 years old. And I mean... it is still horribly sad when cancer claims a life, no matter whose it is, and especially this woman who had done so much for the world but they just seemed so SURPRISED by it. It would be different if this were a 20 year old writing about his 45 year old mother. But when you are over 70 don't you sort of expect these things to happen? Hopefully that doesn't sound too insensitive -- it's still very sad. Mostly because you have all this time to build up to the death instead of it just happening.
And on a related note the second thing... The whole time, I was sort of expecting the father to die. Not that I wanted him to, of course, but ... he was much older than the mother, and it was made clear that he was (is?) not as healthy and outgoing as his wife, a bit overweight, etc. There was even one point in the book where the author notices at dinner one night that his father looked even more fragile than his mother did and had seemed to have aged a lot in the last few years. I thought at that point that he would realize that he should be making an effort to spend time with his father, too! And really, his father being so much older, it was very possible the father could have died from natural causes, or a stroke, or complications from pneumonia, even before the mother did just from ... being old. I think as our parents age, we need to make an effort to spend time with them or reach out and talk to them more often whether they have cancer or not! (not that I am very good at this, but ...)
Anyway, this was an excellent book, if a little pretentiously written at times, and it really made me think and evoked a lot of different emotions as I was listening. I often got to work and had to sit in the car for a few minutes to stop crying and fix my makeup before I went in to face the day. Not the best going to work material, but I'm very glad I experienced it.
I definitely have mixed feelings about this book, and it's probably because it's nonfiction so I don't feel like I have the "right" to comment on a person's personality and character traits, especially if that person was real and is now passed.
My first problem with this book is the religious aspect of everything mentioned and talked about. I feel bad for Schwalbe because it seems like he is always trying to defend his religious beliefs to his mother, and because of this there isn't much depth to their book discussions. They almost always seem to disagree. This may be great for a reader who wants various perspectives, but it makes me sympathetic to Will Schwalbe. I understand that they are slightly connecting by reading the same books, but she comes across as being incredibly dismissive towards Schwalbe's opinions.
My second problem with the book is the way that Mary Ann is perceived by her son, a worldly and amazing person (she really was) but lacking a serious connection with Will Schwalbe. He even mentions in the book that she urges him not to be a "gay writer". That's pretty horrible. And the fact that she donated his favorite stuffed toy without asking him about it because "other kids need it more" is pretty darn heart wrenching.
My third problem is that the book almost seems like propaganda with a great emphasize on Obama and universal health care. Will Schwalbe mentions that the happiest moment from when his mom was diagnosed with cancer and when she died was when Obama became President. Sure, that is amazing, but I would think that getting a million dollar donation and starting a library in Afghanistan would be a much happier moment. But, who am I to tell someone how they should feel? Schwalbe mentions that he is going to write a book about their relationship and his mom says something along the lines of, "Great! Make sure you also write about this other person" because apparently that was a much more significant moment to her than any connection between her and her son.
I feel conflicted because I feel like Schwalbe is a great story teller, and this book is so different and personal. I also had tears in my eyes at the end, even though I knew what was coming, because the words he choose are so perfect. I would recommend this book to probably anyone who is interested in nonfiction, cancer stories, or just wants to read a different style of literature.
My first problem with this book is the religious aspect of everything mentioned and talked about. I feel bad for Schwalbe because it seems like he is always trying to defend his religious beliefs to his mother, and because of this there isn't much depth to their book discussions. They almost always seem to disagree. This may be great for a reader who wants various perspectives, but it makes me sympathetic to Will Schwalbe. I understand that they are slightly connecting by reading the same books, but she comes across as being incredibly dismissive towards Schwalbe's opinions.
My second problem with the book is the way that Mary Ann is perceived by her son, a worldly and amazing person (she really was) but lacking a serious connection with Will Schwalbe. He even mentions in the book that she urges him not to be a "gay writer". That's pretty horrible. And the fact that she donated his favorite stuffed toy without asking him about it because "other kids need it more" is pretty darn heart wrenching.
My third problem is that the book almost seems like propaganda with a great emphasize on Obama and universal health care. Will Schwalbe mentions that the happiest moment from when his mom was diagnosed with cancer and when she died was when Obama became President. Sure, that is amazing, but I would think that getting a million dollar donation and starting a library in Afghanistan would be a much happier moment. But, who am I to tell someone how they should feel? Schwalbe mentions that he is going to write a book about their relationship and his mom says something along the lines of, "Great! Make sure you also write about this other person" because apparently that was a much more significant moment to her than any connection between her and her son.
I feel conflicted because I feel like Schwalbe is a great story teller, and this book is so different and personal. I also had tears in my eyes at the end, even though I knew what was coming, because the words he choose are so perfect. I would recommend this book to probably anyone who is interested in nonfiction, cancer stories, or just wants to read a different style of literature.
This book was right up my alley. It talked all about how literature effects our lives, how discussing books helps us to talk about topics we might not otherwise and it addresses all sorts of end-of-life issues that matter to me because of my work as a Hospice volunteer. Since I've had the misfortune of having a lot of people I know die from cancer, I thought the book did a great job of delving into how important it is for every person to have a well planned, peaceful death experience. On top of that, Mary Anne Schwalbe was a fascinating woman, so her life was a neat backdrop for this story. I didn't feel the writing was all that great, and there were times that some sentences ran on a little much for me, but overall, I'm so glad this book was written.