⭐
In the latter half of 2019, Sloane Crosley’s New York apartment was broken into. Luckily she wasn’t home, but the burglar(s) had ransacked her bedroom and made off with several pieces of jewelry, much of it handed down from her maternal grandmother. That neither she nor her mother were particularly fond of said grandmother was neither here nor there, they were still Sloane’s things and now they were gone. Dealing with such an intrusion and the material loss that went along with it would be hard enough, but only one month later her best friend and one-time boss Russell Perreault hanged himself.
This sudden shock sets her adrift as she struggles to come to terms with the reality of it. He had been a constant in her life for so many years and the mere act of accepting that he was gone was challenge enough, let alone learning to live with it. In a way, having the robbery to focus on proves to be a blessing, as investigating it provides at least some brief moments of distraction. When COVID-19 sends the city into lockdown a few months later, she is left with little but time to reflect on the loss and finally try to make peace with it.
Much of this book was written essentially as it was happening to her, though of course edited and rewritten later, which gives it a confessional tone. Crosley’s writing is eloquent and often funny, but still down-to-earth and easily relatable. The affection she has towards Russell is obvious as she takes us through several fond memories, but this isn’t a hagiography, and she delves into some of his faults in an effort to try and understand what could have led him to take his own life. Despite the weighty subject matter this brief book is a joy to read. As someone who has experienced the loss of a best friend and also the suicides of others who were close by, the emotions and thoughts documented within ring true, and reading about someone else going through them is a surprisingly cathartic experience. ★★★★★
Mar 6, 2024
Related Recs
This book is a chronicle of the author’s life in the year after her husband unexpectedly passes away while their daughter is in a coma. I also happened to read this at a time in my life when I had recently:
a.) gotten married
b.) learned a friend was dying
Seems like a bummer from the summary above, and the content is definitely heavy, but this book really spoke to me at a time in my life when I was feeling a little lost amidst some big life changes. I recommend it to a lot of my friends after they get married - there’s some really great reflections on how amazing it is to share your life with someone, and the ways that you’ll miss them when they’re gone.
I’d always enjoyed reading, but this was the first time that I experienced one of those magical moments when a piece of literature, a movie, etc. can line up perfectly with your life and help you work through some of the things that are happening to and around you.
Feb 20, 2025
If you’re interested in the neurobiology and psychology of grief, I read the grieving brain for a class I took and found it accessible and fascinating (Linked)
ive also already rec’d “a grief observed” by c.s. Lewis on here but it is truly one of the most poignant and beautiful things I’ve ever read, a heartbreaking personal meditation on loss, faith, and love. if you’re cool with reading something devoutly religious, I can’t recommend this enough. I’ve attached a photo of the opening lines.
Feb 5, 2025
A really unique perspective on the fluidity of pain (primarily in relation to chronic illness) and navigating the shifting mindset to cope with the pain.
Also a really interesting take on “friends for certain activities” - a friend you go to gigs with vs the friend you go for a morning jog with. How these friendships change us.
A fantastic quick read!
Apr 15, 2024
Top Recs from @seanf
When Terry Hayes’ debut novel I Am Pilgrim burst onto the scene a decade ago, it seemed to announce the arrival of a major new talent in the thriller scene. I absolutely loved the book and was very excited to see what he would come up with when his next title, The Year of the Locust, was announced for release in 2016. Unfortunately, the year came and went without the book, as did several more, making it seem as if it might never be published. Lo and behold, 8 years later, it’s finally here, and as it turns out it was worth the wait.
The book is written from the perspective of Kane, a Denied Access Area spy for the CIA. His job is to get into the places that Americans aren’t supposed to go and get back out again without being caught, and he is one of the best in the business. When we meet him, he is being sent to the borderlands of Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Iran to try to gather information about an increasingly powerful terrorist group known as the Army of the Pure. Intel has suggested that they are planning a major attack that will endanger countless people around the world and so it is imperative that he can learn more about the organization so they can be stopped before it is too late. Of course, with these kinds of missions there is a lot that can go wrong, and Kane finds himself in some very bad scenarios, with only his wits and training to help him survive.
Written in a conversational tone and short, punchy chapters (some barely a page long), the novel’s roughly 800 pages fly by. Kane is an easy character to like, and the book can sometimes feel like he’s a friend telling you a story. That story happens to be relentlessly suspenseful though, filled with some of the tensest moments of any book I’ve read in years. I would frequently find myself feeling a palpable sense of relief at the conclusion of a mission, having been every bit as invested in its outcome as the characters involved. Speaking of which, while Kane is the star, the other characters are equally enjoyable to spend time with and help to further draw in the reader.
Hayes has clearly done his homework when it comes to spycraft, providing fascinating insights into that world throughout. Everything is so convincing that it can be hard to tell what’s in actual use or the author’s invention, and while it is all thoroughly explained it never gets boring.
The finale takes the story into some truly surprising territory that readers will never see coming and which raises the stakes to truly astronomical levels. Parts of it require some suspension of disbelief, but Hayes pulls off the shift so well that most readers won’t have any problem going along for the ride. 10 years between books is a long time to wait, but when the result is this thrilling, inventive, and even surprisingly emotional it seems like it paid off. Though, it’s still very early into the year, I’d be surprised if I read a more entertaining book than this one in 2024. ★★★★★
Feb 5, 2024
Tried and true formulas work for a reason, and there’s nothing inherently wrong with hewing to them as long as the result is still good, but it’s always exciting for me to watch a movie and feel like I’m seeing something genuinely new and different. Greek filmmaker Yorgos Lanthimos (The Favourite, The Lobster) has so far proven very adept at achieving that, even when building stories around pre-existing works, as he does here. Working off a script by Tony McNamara (The Great, The Favourite as well) based on Alasdair Gray’s 1992 novel which was itself heavily inspired by Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Lanthimos has crafted an epic tale of a woman discovering who she is when freed from the restrictive, largely male-imposed norms of the society around her.
Bella Baxter (Emma Stone) is effectively the creation of Dr. Godwin “God” Baxter (Willem Dafoe), a disfigured but respected surgeon in a strange, steampunk-inspired version of old London, whose house is filled with various creatures he’s spliced together. When he discovers the body of a recently deceased woman in the river, he inserts the brain of her unborn child into her head and so brings both back to life. Bella’s brain is not ready to inhabit an adult’s body however, and so she has difficulty walking let alone communicating. For some reason though, the procedure causes her brain to begin developing at a highly increased rate, and she starts picking up language and other more complicated concepts very quickly.
Godwin is impressed by this result and enlists one of his students, Max McCandles (Ramy Youssef) to monitor her and note her progress. Over time, Bella begins to chafe against the strict boundaries placed upon her by her “father” Godwin, demanding to be allowed out into the world, while also beginning to form a deep bond with the sweetly sympathetic (but still meekly complicit) Max. When she encounters the rakish lawyer Duncan Wedderburn (Mark Ruffalo) she is instantly taken by his promise of escape, but not fully understanding the concept of a secret, she blurts out her plans to Godwin. Surprisingly, he realizes that her need to see more of the world is not unreasonable and so he reluctantly assents to let her go. Thus begins Bella’s odyssey around the Mediterranean, in which she experiences much of the good and the bad in the world while learning to take control of her womanhood.
Stone is magnificent as Bella, completely inhabiting each phase of her growth; from the temper tantrums of a child, to the passions of a young woman discovering her body, to the cool, calm demeanor of an intelligent lady who knows exactly what she wants in life. Ruffalo’s strange, unplaceable accent from All the Light We Cannot See seems to have returned here, though it works far better with the overall unusual tone, and he nails the petulant befuddlement of a man realizing that he can’t handle himself when a woman treats him the same way he has long treated women. Dafoe is excellent as always and Youssef charms in his role, though this is truly Stone’s movie through and through.
The world that Lanthimos has dreamt up for our characters to inhabit is striking and captured beautifully by cinematographer Robbie Ryan (C’mon C’mon, The Favourite again). Likewise, the off kilter yet beautiful score by Jerskin Fendrix is a perfect complement to the story. McNamara’s script has stripped the original book to its most essential pieces and is rife with raunchy, absurdist humor, but it’s the film’s deeper themes that make it truly special.
Bella’s life is initially completely controlled by the men around her. Even if they are sometimes well-meaning in their intentions, they are still forcing their ideas of who she should be allowed to become upon her. It is only when she is granted her freedom that she is able to grow into her true self and begin to thrive. She learns several of her own lessons along the way, with the movie even going so far as to spell out one of its main points for her and us, when brothel-owner Swiney tells Bella, “We must experience everything. Not just the good, but degradation, horror, sadness. This makes us whole Bella, makes us people of substance. Not flighty, untouched children. Then we can know the world. And when we know the world, the world is ours.” Imaginative, funny, charming, filthy, wise, engaging, weird, and wonderful, Poor Things is Lanthimos’ best work yet, and a modern adult fairy tale worth treasuring. ★★★★★
RATED R FOR STRONG AND PERVASIVE SEXUAL CONTENT, GRAPHIC NUDITY, DISTURBING MATERIAL, GORE, AND LANGUAGE.
Feb 29, 2024
Mar 2, 2024