The Grief of Others
By Leah Hager Cohen
384 pages;
Penguin Group
The
premise: Successful, smart, golden mom Ricky Ryrie gives
birth to a baby who, due to a neurological condition, lives for only 57
hours.
What
kept us reading, even though we were crying: The author has
a wise and thorough understanding of how families grieve—both
individually and as a group. As Ricky later describes on a drive home,
having witnessed a two-car wreck, "It wasn't as if accidents frightened
her more now. It was that they made her feel more tired, as if by
possessing a fuller understanding of the complexities of loss, she could
not help experiencing more particularly the losses of
others."
The
side character you'll long to pick up off the page and hug:
Biscuit, the young daughter of Ricky, whose confused, numinous
imagination tries to make sense of what is happening to her family. A
window into her mind, as she looks at the fire in the fireplace on the
night the baby is born: "The false embers glowed like a tiny city
half-hidden in the grate. In that city was a building, in that building
was a room, there her mother lay in a bed with nurses bustling softly
around it."
The one chapter you absolutely must read, even if you don't
buy the book and only go to the bookstore and flip through
it: The prologue, pages one through
four.
The
message behind the novel, as written by the author in a nonfiction essay
about her real-life miscarriage: "Isn't it a funny and
fine thing to realize: that being whole nearly always requires not just
the tending of ourselves but the tending of our bonds with
others?"
— Leigh Newman