The Year of Magical Thinking

“Marriage is memory, marriage is time. Marriage is not only time: it is also, parodoxically, the denial of time”

A devastating, but exquisitely written account of grief in the wake of illness and death. Didion is a master at her craft and this work is a testament to that, and to her love and devotion to her late husband and daughter.

A totally repetitive grief-inducing book with a lot of factual and superfluous data to support its own irrational way of thinking, that is totally irrationally rational.

Ah, how could one name a book like this. First or two chapters were fine, standard courses to introduce the event of the writer's husband's death and were actually pretty captivating (and that's why I bought the book).

And the rest were...insufferable.

That self-absorbance was not quite the big reason. More of that was due to it's repetitive account of the events. Grandma's whines, again insufferable to me. Or let's assume I'm just a heartless person, anyway.

Alright, might do this book some justice. It would be better if Joan wrote the entire book wholly focused on her own writing and her personal experience, like honestly do I really need to know the causes of heart attack when I'm a biology student? Thank you, next.

Anyway, I might just drop it in the darkest corner of my home. You might rest well there.