Notes on Grief

Should perhaps have been titled Notes On My Grief: specific, not generic. I picked it up in late December expecting the latter, thinking it might offer wisdom for coping with 2022 and, for that matter, the rest of our lives, in which I expect grief to ever increasingly be the defining emotion. It is instead Adichie's recounting of her feelings upon the sudden death of her father. She describes all the stages of DABDA, in their usual haphazard non-sequence, but curiously without once even mentioning DABDA. She writes eloquently and with great sensitivity... but it isn't clear to me who she's writing to. (The for is easy: herself. I hope it worked, hope it was cathartic for her, that she is healing. The to, well, it's not me. I just felt uncomfortable viewing her progression.)It's oddly serendipitous to read this the day after [b:The Secret to Superhuman Strength 53968436 The Secret to Superhuman Strength Alison Bechdel https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1603447250l/53968436.SY75.jpg 55906126], in which Bechdel writes “What a tedious slog life would be without death!” On reflection I think that's what I found distancing: Adichie does not seem to have expected her 88-year-old father's death, nor even to have ever contemplated it. As someone squarely in Bechdel's camp, I just can't relate to that.[Unrated, because I'm not the target audience so it would not be fair.]

A perfect essay.