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literarycrushes's review against another edition
4.0
Intoxicated by My Illness, Anatole Broyard’s brilliant collection of essays on being diagnosed with cancer was published posthumously in 1989. Broyard writes to take possession of his illness, to give it a narrative that he can control (“Writing is the greatest counterpoint to my illness. It forces cancer to go through my character before it can get to me.”) As a longtime editor for The NYT Book Review, he does not miss the irony of being a critic with a critical illness. He writes with admirable optimism in the face of death, instead feeling a renewed desire for life (desire, he says, is the only true form of immortality). And yet, none of these essays enter the territory of becoming overly sentimental or gushy.
One of the best essays, ‘What the Cystoscope Said,’ recalls the diagnosis and death of his father from a similar cancer in 1948. In it, he recalls his strained relationship with his father (“My father and I didn’t talk much. We never had. When I was a child, he wouldn’t; when I reached adolescence, I wouldn’t. After that, we were so far apart that we couldn’t have heard each other across the distance.”), and the strange way that illness can bring people together.
If you haven’t heard of Broyard before, he was a complicated character in the literary world in the 60s-80s. I read his memoir, Kafka Was the Rage, on coming of age in 1940s Greenwich Village (where he ran a bookstore on Cornelia Street), but what I want to read next is his daughter Bliss Broyard’s memoir ‘One Drop’ (2007) about finding out that her father spent his life ‘passing’ as a white man, and reconnecting with her father’s side of the family after his death.
One of the best essays, ‘What the Cystoscope Said,’ recalls the diagnosis and death of his father from a similar cancer in 1948. In it, he recalls his strained relationship with his father (“My father and I didn’t talk much. We never had. When I was a child, he wouldn’t; when I reached adolescence, I wouldn’t. After that, we were so far apart that we couldn’t have heard each other across the distance.”), and the strange way that illness can bring people together.
If you haven’t heard of Broyard before, he was a complicated character in the literary world in the 60s-80s. I read his memoir, Kafka Was the Rage, on coming of age in 1940s Greenwich Village (where he ran a bookstore on Cornelia Street), but what I want to read next is his daughter Bliss Broyard’s memoir ‘One Drop’ (2007) about finding out that her father spent his life ‘passing’ as a white man, and reconnecting with her father’s side of the family after his death.
maryehavens's review against another edition
2.0
It's hard to give a guy's last writing 2 stars but I had to force myself to finish it.
There are several things I will take from this book and, had I been in the grips of terminal illness or wrestling with death, I think I would have gained more. Thankfully, I'm not in either one of these situations so I think some things are lost on me. That's o.k. - I don't want to dismiss the importance of this book or his writing.
My biggest takeaways are, instead of counting from birth to death, count down from death to where you are now. If the average age (let's just say) of death is 80, I only have 38 years left on this Earth. If that's not an impetus to live my life more intentionally then I don't know what is.
We did a journaling exercise last night as a family and I shared this revelation. For me, it really reframed the way I'm looking at experiencing the world. The rest of the family did not share my sentiment.
The other takeaway is "being alive when you die". What I gathered from this is Broyard wanted to squeeze out every possible life bit before death. I've talked with my friends and husband about those that don't seem to want more out of life - they are living in a way that seems like they are miserable. This life state does not, for all that I know, seem to exist because of external circumstances but, rather, an internal apathy. Again, from what I can gather. I don't want that. I have the privilege of living in so many great circumstances and it's completely on me to flex that in a positive way.
So...yeah: I had to force myself to finish but I gained some powerful insight from this book. Maybe that deserves 3 stars??
There are several things I will take from this book and, had I been in the grips of terminal illness or wrestling with death, I think I would have gained more. Thankfully, I'm not in either one of these situations so I think some things are lost on me. That's o.k. - I don't want to dismiss the importance of this book or his writing.
My biggest takeaways are, instead of counting from birth to death, count down from death to where you are now. If the average age (let's just say) of death is 80, I only have 38 years left on this Earth. If that's not an impetus to live my life more intentionally then I don't know what is.
We did a journaling exercise last night as a family and I shared this revelation. For me, it really reframed the way I'm looking at experiencing the world. The rest of the family did not share my sentiment.
The other takeaway is "being alive when you die". What I gathered from this is Broyard wanted to squeeze out every possible life bit before death. I've talked with my friends and husband about those that don't seem to want more out of life - they are living in a way that seems like they are miserable. This life state does not, for all that I know, seem to exist because of external circumstances but, rather, an internal apathy. Again, from what I can gather. I don't want that. I have the privilege of living in so many great circumstances and it's completely on me to flex that in a positive way.
So...yeah: I had to force myself to finish but I gained some powerful insight from this book. Maybe that deserves 3 stars??
fionak's review against another edition
funny
inspiring
3.5
Broyard’s writing is elegant and funny but a great deal of this book isn’t that interesting. I would recommend “The patient examines the doctor” very highly though; in fact, I wish it was available as a standalone booklet so I could buy multiple copies and give one to every doctor I am forced to deal with.
tamutamu's review against another edition
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
slow-paced
4.0
As it was a reading for my studies, I didn't expect to like it very much, but I was oh so wrong ! The writing is so inspiring, so unique. Balancing between irony and humourous jabs to his own illness, and beautiful metaphors and ways of seeing life and death. I really didn't expect it, but it was such a good and inspiring read.
literatetexan's review against another edition
4.0
A collection of essays and journal notes written by a man dying of cancer. Also includes a short story about the death of his father. Extraordinarily well-written. Beautiful prose.
damsorrow's review against another edition
3.0
I generally don't think about how I was a gender studies major in college except when reading books like this where I'm trying VERY HARD to really get into it and then I start SEEING HOW HE HATES WOMEN and I really and truly am TRYING to enjoy it but then i can't STOP seeing the misogyny and then I am still TRYING but all that happens is I pull out "Jesus fuckin' fuck, what the fuck is this guy's fucking problem with women?"
Good book. Hates girls and probably poors. That's it.
Good book. Hates girls and probably poors. That's it.