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A review by half_book_and_co
Sick: A Memoir by Porochista Khakpour
3.0
Porochista Khakpour felt a little (or even a lot) off in her body for most of her life - there were aching, dizzy spells, and all kinds of diffuse symptoms. Her memoir "Sick" chronicles her life as being a sick person without a diagnosis. Only quite late doctors finally could put their finger onto the problem: Khakpour has got late stage Lyme disease. The book is not about a straightforward quest to health or at least an answer to the question of what is wrong. Instead, the book meanders, jumps back and forward. The chapters are roughly sorted with regards to locations as Khakpour constantly moves between Los Angeles and New York, but also Santa Fe, Leipzig (Germany), and other places, after first being displaced as a child fleeing with her family from Iran to the USA. She states: “I sometimes wonder if I would have been less sick if I had a home.” The structure makes sense since her trials to find a home, a place she feels comfortable in, is also linked to her alienation from her body. The nonlinear narrative is equally connected to some questions which might never be answered: When did she contract Lyme? And where?
Khakpour's narrative is not one to easily grapple with. She writes about drug addiction (and the mix of recreational and party drugs and drugs she (first) took to fight some symptoms), difficult relationships, and a lot of uncertainty. She acknowledges blank spaces and the decisions to leave certain aspects out of the book. This is not "the whole story", as no memoir ever is "the whole story", but in contrast to many other books, she makes this very clear.
Khakpour also writes: "I've never been good at being sick. [...] I am not a poster child for wellness." This admission, which comes late in the book but is the sentiment throughout, makes this book so interesting: Khakpour did not try to appeal to an able-bodied audience who might prefer a simple story of suffering (by a person who earned sympathy through good behaviour) with clear reasoning and plain answers. She denies this impulse and instead goes for the complexities of life. I am very glad I read this book though at times I lost interest in the particularities - not due to the content or the general structure but to the writing style which did not always work for me.
Khakpour's narrative is not one to easily grapple with. She writes about drug addiction (and the mix of recreational and party drugs and drugs she (first) took to fight some symptoms), difficult relationships, and a lot of uncertainty. She acknowledges blank spaces and the decisions to leave certain aspects out of the book. This is not "the whole story", as no memoir ever is "the whole story", but in contrast to many other books, she makes this very clear.
Khakpour also writes: "I've never been good at being sick. [...] I am not a poster child for wellness." This admission, which comes late in the book but is the sentiment throughout, makes this book so interesting: Khakpour did not try to appeal to an able-bodied audience who might prefer a simple story of suffering (by a person who earned sympathy through good behaviour) with clear reasoning and plain answers. She denies this impulse and instead goes for the complexities of life. I am very glad I read this book though at times I lost interest in the particularities - not due to the content or the general structure but to the writing style which did not always work for me.