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3.92 AVERAGE
3.92 AVERAGE
The grief that you imagine is nowhere similar to the grief that you experience.
I can never express or understand it fully.
Didion’s brilliance dissects the grief and puts it into words that added a tiny bit of sense and structure to the gaping void inside me.
And some questions that I’ll never have the answer for-
- Why did I add this book to my tbr back in 2023 without knowing anything about it?
- Why did I always think it’s an uplifting read? Why did I assume it to be different from what it actually is?
- Why did I pick up this book NOW and started reading it still without knowing what’s it about it?
- Why did I keep visiting the Cathedral of St.John the Divine (mentioned often throughout the book) in the Amsterdam Avenue several times? Was I destined to live at a walking distance from it? How many times have I stared at the splendid structure and at the reconstructed massive dome?
- why do I vividly remember the eerie and mysterious silence and the reverberating echoes which pulled me out of the city to someplace else everytime?
How are these questions connected to grief you ask, like I said, it’s nowhere close to what you imagined it to be.
I can never express or understand it fully.
Didion’s brilliance dissects the grief and puts it into words that added a tiny bit of sense and structure to the gaping void inside me.
And some questions that I’ll never have the answer for-
- Why did I add this book to my tbr back in 2023 without knowing anything about it?
- Why did I always think it’s an uplifting read? Why did I assume it to be different from what it actually is?
- Why did I pick up this book NOW and started reading it still without knowing what’s it about it?
- Why did I keep visiting the Cathedral of St.John the Divine (mentioned often throughout the book) in the Amsterdam Avenue several times? Was I destined to live at a walking distance from it? How many times have I stared at the splendid structure and at the reconstructed massive dome?
- why do I vividly remember the eerie and mysterious silence and the reverberating echoes which pulled me out of the city to someplace else everytime?
How are these questions connected to grief you ask, like I said, it’s nowhere close to what you imagined it to be.
3.5 stars (audiobook): this is a great pairing for Blue Nights. Both are meditations on greif but this book would be better for someone trying to understand a friend/family memeber who is going through loss while Blue Nights is something that would be more helpful to the individual experiancing loss (although i think both are amazing for eaither situation). She is brilant in convaying grief through her writing and i would defintally listen to this again when trying to understand greif
Everyone deals with grief in different ways. This memoir details the year after the death of the author's husband and all the turbulence she found along the way.
Their daughter is in a coma at the ICU and it is just days after Christmas when Joan's husband, John, succumbs to a heart attack in their New York City apartment. An ambulance is called and John is rushed to the hospital, though nothing can be done, he has already passed. Unable to tell their unconscious daughter what has happened, Joan must trudge onward in the days after his death with the hope that her daughter will wake up soon. And while the title gives some hope that the year following her husband's death is magical in some way, it is far from such as Joan details her grief. I found it very hard to connect to this story, since I grieve in a very different way than Joan did. Our family is about celebration of life and fond memories, knowing that the person lived a life no matter how long. However, Joan details things that can no longer happen with her and John, of memories that are not always joyful and instead just informative. She spends a great deal of time either fixating on several phrases or referencing the past literary work of either herself or her husband. It seemed a little propagandized this way, that it was a beacon on their writing career more than anything else. I never got a sense of who John was as a father or as a husband. I also never got the sense of who the people were that were with Joan in this year, helping her and being with her as she grieved. Yes, there was her daughter, but she was in and out of a hospital most of that year. Again, it was just the facts of this and Joan's worrying. Nothing about her daughter's husband and his actions or thoughts. Very little of what her daughter did outside of her time in the hospital or her thoughts. Too many things or people were referenced that I had no idea about and therefore had a hard time understanding the flow of the story. Again, more about their famous literary life and the people they knew or the things they did than an actual reflection on the people involved with this year of mourning. It was just filled with pity and regret; something I cannot relate to when mourning someone.
So while I was unable to relate to this narrative, I know others might be able to gain insight and understanding from these words. Everyone grieves differently and this is just one reflection of an author's view.
Their daughter is in a coma at the ICU and it is just days after Christmas when Joan's husband, John, succumbs to a heart attack in their New York City apartment. An ambulance is called and John is rushed to the hospital, though nothing can be done, he has already passed. Unable to tell their unconscious daughter what has happened, Joan must trudge onward in the days after his death with the hope that her daughter will wake up soon. And while the title gives some hope that the year following her husband's death is magical in some way, it is far from such as Joan details her grief. I found it very hard to connect to this story, since I grieve in a very different way than Joan did. Our family is about celebration of life and fond memories, knowing that the person lived a life no matter how long. However, Joan details things that can no longer happen with her and John, of memories that are not always joyful and instead just informative. She spends a great deal of time either fixating on several phrases or referencing the past literary work of either herself or her husband. It seemed a little propagandized this way, that it was a beacon on their writing career more than anything else. I never got a sense of who John was as a father or as a husband. I also never got the sense of who the people were that were with Joan in this year, helping her and being with her as she grieved. Yes, there was her daughter, but she was in and out of a hospital most of that year. Again, it was just the facts of this and Joan's worrying. Nothing about her daughter's husband and his actions or thoughts. Very little of what her daughter did outside of her time in the hospital or her thoughts. Too many things or people were referenced that I had no idea about and therefore had a hard time understanding the flow of the story. Again, more about their famous literary life and the people they knew or the things they did than an actual reflection on the people involved with this year of mourning. It was just filled with pity and regret; something I cannot relate to when mourning someone.
So while I was unable to relate to this narrative, I know others might be able to gain insight and understanding from these words. Everyone grieves differently and this is just one reflection of an author's view.
reflective
slow-paced
emotional
inspiring
reflective
sad
fast-paced
emotional
reflective
sad
fast-paced
perfect . no notes. it’s didion.
In hindsight, I appreciate this book more than I did a month ago when I finished it. Certainly more than I did while I was reading it... while I was reading it, I didn’t really enjoy it at all.
I did appreciate the vulnerability and honesty of the experiences and emotions being related. And, by the end of the book, the jumbled organization and flow of thought is recognized as obviously intentional.
But I just felt like I had a hard time relating to the author and her experience— not of grieving or loss, since that is universal. (And, indeed, it helped me see how universal grief is considering how little else we had in common.) But the extremely frequent references to international vacations, considering buying a home in Hawaii, living in New York City and dining out and visiting with the elite.....
Not even close to my life and experience, and I felt like I had to get over those alienating hurdles before I could get more from the book.
I did appreciate the vulnerability and honesty of the experiences and emotions being related. And, by the end of the book, the jumbled organization and flow of thought is recognized as obviously intentional.
But I just felt like I had a hard time relating to the author and her experience— not of grieving or loss, since that is universal. (And, indeed, it helped me see how universal grief is considering how little else we had in common.) But the extremely frequent references to international vacations, considering buying a home in Hawaii, living in New York City and dining out and visiting with the elite.....
Not even close to my life and experience, and I felt like I had to get over those alienating hurdles before I could get more from the book.
dark
emotional
slow-paced
This book is on a special shelf of books I hate so much, I can't give them away and pass on the misery to others. Hate, hate, hate this name-dropping, pretentious, self-centered book.