Scan barcode
A review by salimah
Life and Other Near-Death Experiences by Camille Pagán
1.0
What an incohesive, insulting wreck of a story fronted by an emotionally inconsistent, immature protagonist. This is the kind of book that gives people the idea that anyone can write and get it published... because how hard could it really be if this passed muster?
The heroine of this story is under the impression that her mother dying of cancer when she was a child is license to act like a complete asshole for the rest of her life. The story starts with her getting a double dose of devastating news, and so a lapse or two in processing judgment could be forgiven, but she never ever, not once, has an epiphany about the ways she's contributed to some of the deeper dissatisfaction she feels with her life. Or the ways she's let herself and others down.
And when one of the two central relationships of her adult life crumbles, not once after giving herself a reasonable amount of time to freak out, does she ever give that relationship its due consideration--or the person she was in the relationship with a moment of grace or compassion. She seems to be under the impression that she is the only one who's allowed to grieve. The author spends a lot of time convincingly painting the picture of a marriage that was filled with abiding, if incomplete love. But never once does the author allow her main character to realize that the underlying compassion her erstwhile husband always showed her (and continues to try to show her) merits something other than the abject cruelty she leveraged at him at every turn.
Everything in the aftermath of the devastating blow actually undermines any claims that she ever loved her husband at all.
So, we're supposed to believe that her new love interest is the real deal--that she is, in fact, capable of love when she can't even talk to the person she purported to love most in the world until circumstances force her hand?
That she'd confide in the wife of her former husband's best friend--a woman she admitted she was only friends with because she was her husband's best friend's wife--but never confides that truth to the man she spent nearly 20 years with? If I were the new guy, I'd look at that as a roadmap for how she'll react when things ultimately get difficult for them. Of course, the book ends before there's anything other than a bright outlook on the horizon.
You know what would have been a compelling story with the same catalyzing events in place? The heroine and her husband working through her diagnosis and his realization together with compassion, grace, and honesty while they each figured out how to move forward, separately, without totally undermining the very real love we were told (repeatedly) they'd had.
I can only assume the author found her protagonist's behavior acceptable since there was nothing to indicate that the reader was invited to do anything other than be on her side. I've read other books by Pagan and her heroines are often shocked by a realization--or a departure--and then they dig in their heels like petulant children, refusing to make decisions/face facts, while simultaneously doing untold damage to others. This heroine is by far the worst of the lot.
The heroine of this story is under the impression that her mother dying of cancer when she was a child is license to act like a complete asshole for the rest of her life. The story starts with her getting a double dose of devastating news, and so a lapse or two in processing judgment could be forgiven, but she never ever, not once, has an epiphany about the ways she's contributed to some of the deeper dissatisfaction she feels with her life. Or the ways she's let herself and others down.
And when one of the two central relationships of her adult life crumbles, not once after giving herself a reasonable amount of time to freak out, does she ever give that relationship its due consideration--or the person she was in the relationship with a moment of grace or compassion. She seems to be under the impression that she is the only one who's allowed to grieve. The author spends a lot of time convincingly painting the picture of a marriage that was filled with abiding, if incomplete love. But never once does the author allow her main character to realize that the underlying compassion her erstwhile husband always showed her (and continues to try to show her) merits something other than the abject cruelty she leveraged at him at every turn.
Everything in the aftermath of the devastating blow actually undermines any claims that she ever loved her husband at all.
So, we're supposed to believe that her new love interest is the real deal--that she is, in fact, capable of love when she can't even talk to the person she purported to love most in the world until circumstances force her hand?
That she'd confide in the wife of her former husband's best friend--a woman she admitted she was only friends with because she was her husband's best friend's wife--but never confides that truth to the man she spent nearly 20 years with? If I were the new guy, I'd look at that as a roadmap for how she'll react when things ultimately get difficult for them. Of course, the book ends before there's anything other than a bright outlook on the horizon.
You know what would have been a compelling story with the same catalyzing events in place? The heroine and her husband working through her diagnosis and his realization together with compassion, grace, and honesty while they each figured out how to move forward, separately, without totally undermining the very real love we were told (repeatedly) they'd had.
I can only assume the author found her protagonist's behavior acceptable since there was nothing to indicate that the reader was invited to do anything other than be on her side. I've read other books by Pagan and her heroines are often shocked by a realization--or a departure--and then they dig in their heels like petulant children, refusing to make decisions/face facts, while simultaneously doing untold damage to others. This heroine is by far the worst of the lot.