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A review by notlikethebeer
These Days Are Numbered: Diary of a High-Rise Lockdown by Rebecca Rosenblum
emotional
funny
hopeful
reflective
sad
slow-paced
4.25
How does a crowded, high-density urban area work when the world suddenly needs to be spaced six feet apart? What does community look like when everything it was based on is changed? And how can an extrovert fulfill their needs in the middle of all of this? These Days Are Numbered, a collection of journal-esque Facebook statuses, chart Rebecca Rosenblum's personal struggles with these questions, in the middle of the global pandemic.
Although I tend to stay far away from pandemic content (Help, with Jodie Comer? - I absolutely could not do it), there was something about the blurb of this book that grabbed me. It pretty much does what it says on the tin, being an account of Rosenblum's life during the major years of the pandemic.
It was, by turns, reflective, angry, hopeful, sad, and deeply funny: I adored the snippets of conversation between Rosenblum and her husband! Both because they were very funny, and also because I think we all had those truly bizarre interactions during the lockdowns, that only really come from living in close proximity for too long. That was really the beauty of the book, that even if the day-to-day experiences were different (I wasn't working during the bulk of the 2020 lockdowns, I was living in the suburbs of an English city) it still felt fundamentally relatable. It was reassuring, to know that someone on the other side of the world was having experiences that had some essential similarity to mine, when even the other side of the city was unreachable at that time.
I do think there is room for critique. Whilst I felt that Rosenblum was generally good at reflecting on her privilege during a time that drew such chasms, it still means that this book won't be representative for everyone. Even past the differences of class, race, and dis/ability - that all likely impacted each individual experience of the pandemic - she wasn't a front-line worker, she had her family relatively nearby, she was living with a loved one. As well, there were parts - mostly in relation to race - that felt a bit weird when considered as public Facebook posts, as opposed to a private diary. More generally, the pacing felt a little off - despite being made up of a collection of short snippets, it took me a long time to read, and it felt that the pandemic was nearing a plateau somewhat before the book itself.
What does community look like, when everything it was previously based on has to change? I think maybe it looks a bit like this.
Although I tend to stay far away from pandemic content (Help, with Jodie Comer? - I absolutely could not do it), there was something about the blurb of this book that grabbed me. It pretty much does what it says on the tin, being an account of Rosenblum's life during the major years of the pandemic.
It was, by turns, reflective, angry, hopeful, sad, and deeply funny: I adored the snippets of conversation between Rosenblum and her husband! Both because they were very funny, and also because I think we all had those truly bizarre interactions during the lockdowns, that only really come from living in close proximity for too long. That was really the beauty of the book, that even if the day-to-day experiences were different (I wasn't working during the bulk of the 2020 lockdowns, I was living in the suburbs of an English city) it still felt fundamentally relatable. It was reassuring, to know that someone on the other side of the world was having experiences that had some essential similarity to mine, when even the other side of the city was unreachable at that time.
I do think there is room for critique. Whilst I felt that Rosenblum was generally good at reflecting on her privilege during a time that drew such chasms, it still means that this book won't be representative for everyone. Even past the differences of class, race, and dis/ability - that all likely impacted each individual experience of the pandemic - she wasn't a front-line worker, she had her family relatively nearby, she was living with a loved one. As well, there were parts - mostly in relation to race - that felt a bit weird when considered as public Facebook posts, as opposed to a private diary. More generally, the pacing felt a little off - despite being made up of a collection of short snippets, it took me a long time to read, and it felt that the pandemic was nearing a plateau somewhat before the book itself.
What does community look like, when everything it was previously based on has to change? I think maybe it looks a bit like this.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Pandemic/Epidemic
Minor: Ableism, Racism, Grief