Susannah Cahalan
An
Occupational Therapist at work recommended this book to me and it was a
stirring, visceral read. The author was roughly my age when her brain
rebelled against her body, regressing her to a wall-staring zombie
incapable of taking care of herself or remembering the month of her life
she almost died. She does a remarkable job of piecing together those
days off of hospital records, fragmented, fuzzy memories, eyewitness
accounts, and faithful diary entries from her parents. Susannah pulls
you down the descent into madness with her, blindfolding you to reason,
sense, and sharing every intimate detail of her deterioration. The
reader gains the benefit of a healthy brain to hear the myriad of
medical tests and theories, but stays in the dark as she and her parents
do until the real culprit is unmasked: Anti-NMDA
receptor encephalitis. You feel exhausted and relieved as she begins to
recover, and feel a satisfying sense of closure as she resumes her life
a changed woman, but a recovered mind. When Breath Becomes Air
Paul Kalanithi
Full
disclosure: this book does not have a happy ending. We start toward the
end of Dr. Kalanithi's story - he is sick, but the gravity and
prognosis is unknown. As a health care professional, and daughter to a
man who also died from cancer, this book hit close to home many times.
It was a beautiful, heartfelt read. The author manages to take a
heartbreaking, joyless topic and keep a positive slant throughout most
of the story. He speaks to what he loves in his life cut short:
learning, neuroscience and neurosurgery, writing, his background, his
wife, and his family. The story draws the reader along even as the
apprehension of disease progression lurks in the background. I found
myself wanting to read faster because of his masterful writing style,
but dreading the relapse. His writing style waxes faintly melancholy and
philosophical and when it becomes evident that he is facing an
insidious, terminal disease. His book was left unfinished as he suddenly
took a turn for the worse. The transcript was edited as minimally as
possible, but left the reader with a sense of transition, not end. His
wife, Lucy, writes the epilogue recounting his final days and hours,
passing out of this life in the very place he spent so many thousands of
hours saving others. I cried freely and extensively reading the final
pages of this book, but his wife's strength in finishing what her
husband could not stands as a testament to the profound impact he made
on people's lives in all facets. This is the mark of a great doctor and a
great man: a well-rounded, strong character who, even in his final
months of life shares his experience for the benefits of others. The Time Traveler's Wife
Audrey Niffenegger
I
didn't see the movie: this isn't my normal genre of interest. However,
the fluid timeline of the book bore merit for investigation. Overall
this book held my interest. However, I wouldn't count it as a classic,
nor as a book I would read again. I enjoyed scenery descriptions and the
idea of their life in time more than the actual plot. I found the
twists dramatic and over-emotional, and although I cried like a little
girl at the ending, it was because of the father daughter dynamics fresh
on my own father's passing, not at the authenticity of the story. The History of Love
Nicole Krauss
"Once
upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a
question he wanted to spend his whole life answering."
This
sentiment from the prologue charmed me from the first pages, and kept
me reading, pondering, wishing, and connected with the book's characters
throughout its packed intertwined story. The book is actually three
separate stories, tightly braided together, which the reader at first
knows no connection between, and gradually begins to draw inferences
about as the book progresses. These are my favorite kinds of novels: the
author is completely in control the entire time, but starts from a
seemingly arbitrary place in the story to in fact complete a full circle
by the book's end. Each story feels real, grounded, and tangible. I
could picture myself in Leo's horder apartment, kitchen littered with
baking supplies covered in a powdery flour dust. I could hear the
radiator clanking of his upstairs neighbor, and picture his face when
the door is opened. I could see the pre-pubescent girl, Alma, bored and
curious, sneakily opening letters and innocently missing romantic
undertones from her lone male friend. I let go of time and space and
reality when the stories began to come together, and let myself be wrapt
up in the author's oddly satisfying, but completely heartbreaking
crescendo and felt simultaneously completely let down and at peace when I
read the final page. I do not expect to reread this book looking for a
feel-good nothing to kill time, but rather to again appreciate the work
of an author comfortable with illuminating the hidden magic of the
ordinary and forgotten. Fire Shut Up in My Bones
Charles Blow
This
book was a total impulse pick off the shelf at the library. I was
instantly drawn in to the author's deep south upbringing. The
introduction was quick and fiery and I wondered at where the rest of the
book was headed. However, Charles takes a step back after the
introduction, going back all the way to his first memory, and gradually
recounting his life from there. The story was full of lovely
descriptions of his deep south upbringing, peppered with character
descriptions, mouth-watering meals, and places seen with significance
that changed as his world expanded. He grew up in abject poverty, but he
never complained or victimized his upbringing. Instead, he openly,
vulnerably presented himself and his perception of life in Gibsland. I
found myself rooting for him, inwardly bracing myself for the trauma I
knew from the introduction was coming, but taking delight in hearing his
story. His tone reflected the setting of each phase of his story. I
could hear his voice in my mind, sitting beside me on a rocking chair on
a hot July day, sipping sweet tea, the sound of children playing in the
background and old women rocking and gossiping beside me. I ached for
him when his innocence was taken, silently, in the night. I waited as
his character was questioned, forged, and tested time and time again,
and willed his story to be one of success, not defeat. It is, and then
some. Highly recommended. 
