Scan barcode
belindab's review against another edition
5.0
Ive read two of McCracken's novels, The Giant's House (which was good) and Niagara Falls All Over Again (which I thought was better). This slim little book is the story of her stillborn baby. It's a bit hard to describe. Every page is grief-soaked, but it's not maudlin. At one point she says she's writing the book as a love letter to her husband, then apologizes for the sentimentality. As ever, her writing is funny, poignant and bitingly direct in turns.
I know two couples whose babies died just days (or hours) before their expected entrance to the world. I thought about them as McCracken pondered the position of a dead child in the family history, wondered what to say to the well meaning people who, seeing her second, healthy son, ask, " Is this your first?" ("I want them to know, but I don't want to have to tell them.") or to acquaintances who somehow missed the news who write, "Your son must be a year old by now!" ("I don't write back.") She doesn't sugarcoat the emotional journey or try to make herself look good, but she doesn't flog the worst parts for effect, either. It's not an easy read, but it is a deeply touching one.
"All I can say is, it's a sort of kinship, as though there is a family tree of grief. On this branch the lost children, on this the suicided parents, here the beloved mentally ill siblings. When something terrible happens, you discover all of a sudden that you have a new set of relatives, people with whom you can speak in the shorthand of cousins."This book is for those "cousins" and those who love them. "I want a book that acknowledges that life goes on but that death goes on, too, that a person who is dead is a long, long story."
I know two couples whose babies died just days (or hours) before their expected entrance to the world. I thought about them as McCracken pondered the position of a dead child in the family history, wondered what to say to the well meaning people who, seeing her second, healthy son, ask, " Is this your first?" ("I want them to know, but I don't want to have to tell them.") or to acquaintances who somehow missed the news who write, "Your son must be a year old by now!" ("I don't write back.") She doesn't sugarcoat the emotional journey or try to make herself look good, but she doesn't flog the worst parts for effect, either. It's not an easy read, but it is a deeply touching one.
"All I can say is, it's a sort of kinship, as though there is a family tree of grief. On this branch the lost children, on this the suicided parents, here the beloved mentally ill siblings. When something terrible happens, you discover all of a sudden that you have a new set of relatives, people with whom you can speak in the shorthand of cousins."This book is for those "cousins" and those who love them. "I want a book that acknowledges that life goes on but that death goes on, too, that a person who is dead is a long, long story."
sarahkbain's review against another edition
5.0
I first discovered this book in Oprah magazine, excerpted as an essay and what struck me besides the absolute beauty and starkness of the language was the understanding, the grace, the simplicity of the words and the complexity of the words all at the same time.
I will just quote Elizabeth here at the beginning of her memoir:
"A child dies in this book: a baby. A baby is stillborn. You don't have to tell me how sad that is: it happened to me and my husband, our baby, a son."
And that, my friends, is the beginning of a book that takes your breath away with sadness, with laughter, with hope, and with the ultimate faith in life.
Is it a book for parents whose children have died? I don't know. I am reading it. I put it down several times a day. I will read it. My husband may not. He doesn't like sad books anymore. He doesn't like books or stories where babies die. He doesn't find comfort in that. I somehow still do.
And because I first discovered Elizabeth in The Giant's House, a novel that sings, I know that I cannot be disappointed in her writing. And because Ann Patchett and Alice Sebold love McCracken's writing, well then, that also says a great deal. And because I think, Elizabeth's first love is of the literary genre, it too is evidenced here.
But of course there is a paradox because the book, however lovely, is here because her son is not. And that will always be the real tragedy.
Do I have any disappointments about the book? Only one. When I picked it up, it was lighter than I expected, and I realized in that moment, that I wanted it to weigh a healthy eight pounds. I wanted to hold it in my arms and rock it. And that perhaps is all that is left to be said except for this:
Go and buy the book!
I will just quote Elizabeth here at the beginning of her memoir:
"A child dies in this book: a baby. A baby is stillborn. You don't have to tell me how sad that is: it happened to me and my husband, our baby, a son."
And that, my friends, is the beginning of a book that takes your breath away with sadness, with laughter, with hope, and with the ultimate faith in life.
Is it a book for parents whose children have died? I don't know. I am reading it. I put it down several times a day. I will read it. My husband may not. He doesn't like sad books anymore. He doesn't like books or stories where babies die. He doesn't find comfort in that. I somehow still do.
And because I first discovered Elizabeth in The Giant's House, a novel that sings, I know that I cannot be disappointed in her writing. And because Ann Patchett and Alice Sebold love McCracken's writing, well then, that also says a great deal. And because I think, Elizabeth's first love is of the literary genre, it too is evidenced here.
But of course there is a paradox because the book, however lovely, is here because her son is not. And that will always be the real tragedy.
Do I have any disappointments about the book? Only one. When I picked it up, it was lighter than I expected, and I realized in that moment, that I wanted it to weigh a healthy eight pounds. I wanted to hold it in my arms and rock it. And that perhaps is all that is left to be said except for this:
Go and buy the book!
angelina41's review against another edition
5.0
Packs a whollop of despair, while being completely compelling.
jereco1962's review against another edition
5.0
Memoirs often span years and years, but this is Elizabeth McCracken's tale of one particular time in her life - less than two years, total - during which she and her husband had to endure the unendurable. It's no spoiler to say that the event is the still-birth of her first child, since we learn that in the first pages of the book - she never hides that fact - or anything else, frankly, which is the power of this piece: She doesn't wax poetic or try to revise history. Despite the appearance of the novel David Copperfield at one point in the story, she doesn't make herself out to be the heroine of her own story (that is left, unsurprisingly, to her friend, the novelist Ann Patchett among others who supported her in this most difficult of times). McCracken herself doesn't soft-pedal her experience: she admits when she's being petty, when she's over-reacting, when she's dwelling, when she's self-pitying... And the book is all the richer for it. We don't need (want) some sterilized version of the story, and she's too frank and unsentimental a writer to do that. It's a pain-ridden and painful book, but a warm one despite all that, even funny at times, hopeful amid the despair, and always bracingly honest.
samhitarao's review against another edition
5.0
The saddest and happiest an experience can make you feel. All at once. You can relate to her pain but you don't feel like you have the right to. But you still do. Her grief should be solitary but McCracken shares it with you effortlessly. You can't help but find parallels in your own tragedies, knowing, the whole time, how much it pales in comparison to hers. What doesn't pale is the relief in the fact that responses to tragedy, small or big, are so so similar. It's oddly comforting. This is simple but truly powerful prose.
I listened to this book on audible but will also buy it in hardcover. I am not sure how much of an impact her 'speaking' to me had on my review of the prose. I surmise, plenty. I don't know this author personally, but now I know so much of her personality and that is a excellent feeling as a reader/ listener.
I listened to this book on audible but will also buy it in hardcover. I am not sure how much of an impact her 'speaking' to me had on my review of the prose. I surmise, plenty. I don't know this author personally, but now I know so much of her personality and that is a excellent feeling as a reader/ listener.
jms's review against another edition
4.0
Read in a few short hours, I cried less than I thought I would, but I was prepared for the subject matter. The parts that she acknowledges were hard to write were hard to read. Knowing the outcome makes reading the moments up to his death particularly excruciating. I think anyone who has lost a baby at any stage during pregnancy would take something away from this strong memoir.
jennseeg's review against another edition
4.0
Heartbreaking yet hopeful little memoir about a stillborn baby.
createassemblage's review against another edition
5.0
Just finished this book and all I can saw is wow. This is so beautifully written. There are parts that were such amazing moments - pieces that I will forever remember. I am no authority on who should read this. I would want to say that in the unity of motherhood all mothers would take something meaningful from this book - but I do not know that for sure. To know how to speak to someone who is grieving. To find small joys in immense pain. Time keeps coming toward you whether you want the world to stop spinning or not.
Short powerful chapters. A quick read. Really beautiful.
Short powerful chapters. A quick read. Really beautiful.