A review by jakekilroy
Strangers by Taichi Yamada

4.0

Grief can overpower our sense of reason, whether it's the day after or a decade. Loss is immeasurable. What we would do, go for, or put ourselves through to sustain any shape, form, or hint of (re)gain is like a fever that tucks itself away inside us until a wound opens anew and it's able to bloom. It could be a lover. It could be a close friend. It could be a parent. The latter is the most curious because you come into this world expecting to see them perish. The real tragedy would be if they beheld your exit from the world. And yet that absence instantly redesigns the world. I recall a quote from Paul Rudd: "When you lose a parent, the world is off its axis and it never rights itself. You adapt or perish." This book grieves in a way that by no means plays the heartstrings. It's direct and breezy, but, above all else, it's true to its nature.