From Publishers Weekly
Former
New York Times reporter Clendinen tells how he persuaded his frail mother to sell her house and move to Canterbury Tower in Florida, a geriatric apartment building where many of her friends already lived. With caring staff, a swimming pool, spacious apartments and cocktail parties, the place seemed almost idyllic, and Mother (as the author refers to her) spent her first four years there in a whirl of social activities. But in 1998, the 83-year-old suffered a stroke and eventually moves into the nursing wing, finally succumbing in early 2007. Around this central narrative, Clendinen spins other stories and observations about the lifestyles of the new old age. He also describes how his mother's old friends ignored her completely when she was wheeled into the apartment tower for a cabaret after her stroke and his painful decision to withdraw her medications. Overall, Clendinen offers a mixed bag, with some stories coming across as poignant and others depressing, in need of some larger meaning—which could have been found, perhaps, in either Clendinen's own alluded-to midlife crisis or a more robust discussion of senior care.
(May) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
From Booklist
The “new old age” is one of longer lives and greater independence until the prospects of dementia and infirmity set in. Clendinen, a former New York Times reporter, began chronicling this journey when, at age 55, he moved into Canterbury Towers, a housing development in Tampa, Florida, where the average occupant is 86 years old. Two years earlier, following the death of his father, his mother moved there and then suffered a debilitating stroke. The Canterbury was like a “good apartment hotel, a very adult camp, a tribal quarters, or some kind of club for the elderly, spunky, and vague.” Canterbury Towers included apartments for independent elderly and a nursing wing for those in failing health. It also included a delicious and lively array of social relationships and activities, from residents’ visits with their own parents—well into their 100s—to dining, dancing, romance, and arguments, in other words, the broad range of human existence. Clendinen tackles the great confused mess of elderly care from the personal perspective of his mother’s widowhood and aging, putting faces and emotions to a complex issue. --Vanessa Bush
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