As I Lay Dying

In the last few years, I've become impulsive about my reading (or more often, listening). I've actually withdrawn from a few different book clubs, recognizing that something has shifted in my willingness to let others choose my next (audio) book.

When I finish a book, I browse Audible or Goodreads and pick what sounds good. It's whimsical and irrational, but I think that may be what I love about it; it's one area of my life not driven by needs, where I can do whatever I feel like.

And it has led to a (predictable) discovery: my reading reflects something about my state of mind. I notice themes in the books I've chosen over a season. Last spring, it was a string of funny self-help memoirs by 40-something Texas Christians. In the fall, it was books by stand-up comedians. This winter, it seems to be diaries about dying. 😳

Does this feel like a season when dying is front-and-center in my life? No. I'd bet that's why I'm willing to read them now -- they don't hit too close to home. At the same time, I increasingly see the effects of aging in my life, so on some deeper level perhaps I want to see how people have made their peace with the process of dying. It's also fascinating to see how facing death soon changes a person's choices in life.

I do not like tragedies, family dramas, Hallmark movies, or anything that makes me cry. I'm convinced life has enough drama and crying without my reading piling on. So, all of the following have mostly avoided these craters while still addressing profound issues related to the end of life. We could think of this as "cozy end-of-life stories." (Is that a thing? That's not a thing.) Still, here they are...

Still Alice

by Lisa Genova (5*)

This novel took me totally by surprise, which doesn't make sense to me since it's exactly what I thought it would be. I knew it was a memoir-style description of early-onset Alzheimers, but I expected it to be difficult to read and a little boring. 

Instead, I found myself engrossed, compelled to read it straight through in 36hours, enlightened by the experience, and yet not repulsed. Maybe it was the point of view, but I felt like the author managed to touch on so many different complicated or unexpected aspects of dealing with dementia while not getting saccharine or sentimental or melodramatic. She knew just where to cut a scene so that it was enlightening or awkward but she didn't shove your face in it. And she kept the experiences varied and paced well so I never felt bored - I was always curious what this next anecdote would reveal that I hadn't thought of yet. The characters were also nicely complex -- at times frustrating, at other times lovable. Even the author's voice fit the subject matter without being too rough or too polished.

In an odd way, this book reminded me of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, because both have given me a gentle peek into a completely different experience of the world -- one that is touching but not so emotional that it clouds my ability to learn from the facts.

If you've read my review, you know that I did not love Jojo Moyes' Me Before You. This book was everything that book wasn't -- helping the reader both understand the desire for escape from a horrific future AND appreciate the ways that future could also be of value, even enjoyable in its own way. I highly recommend it.

The Year of Magical Thinking
by Joan Didion (4*)

I've actually read this twice -- once about 12 years ago (before I had kids) and again last year. I've tried Didion's other books (essay collections) but couldn't get into them. This book was much more plain-spoken, accessible, and comfortable. She begins with a fairly "ordinary" death (if such a thing exists) and then walks through the following year to show its extraordinary impact on her life. 

Some of the details can get a bit long - it's more meandering and less compelling than "Still Alice," but it's also non-fiction, personal experience, and laced with interesting insights about how her brain processed her husband's death. 

The descriptions of their lives as successful writers living in NYC and LA were somehow simple yet lovely, in the same way Kathleen Kelley's life in You've Got Mail is charming. I also found it helpful to hear how someone with her worldview approaches mortality and faith, even as I mourned for her lack of hope. 

Finally, the reader on audible was excellent, and I'm almost hesitant to watch the Netflix doc (The Center Will Not Hold) about Didion because I know her real voice won't match Caruso's.

When Breath Becomes Air 
by Paul Kalanithi (3*)

This is my only selection where the real person who was dying wrote their own experience. That made it especially poignant and harder to criticize. I am glad he wrote this for all of us -- but particularly for his family.

On a less fraught note, I liked learning about the issues a brain surgeon faces, the choices and ethical questions they must wrestle as they have a profound impact on their patients. It was also interesting to hear his struggle with how to make plans given an uncertain prognosis. What if he has months left? What if he has years? Should he work? Should they have a child?

This is definitely a raw but thoughtful reflection of his mindset during a critical period of his life. At the same time, it wasn't especially gripping or entertaining. The draw here is his experience, not the writing itself. If it had been longer, I might not have finished it. And I should mention that his wife wrote the last part, so it is understandably more gut-wrenching than everything else in this post.

If I read others along these lines, I'll try to remember to come back and add them to this list...