Top critical review
1.0 out of 5 starsIf you're not rich and beloved, move on to the next book.
Reviewed in the United States on January 9, 2020
This was recommended to me as a book that a friend had given others in times of grief. Reading it, I was horrified. If your grieving friend is wealthy and surrounded by caretakers of all kinds, by all means, give them this book. If they're ordinary folks expected to go back to work after 3 days of bereavement leave, do not, under any circumstances, give them this book. I'd never read anything by Joan Didion prior, so if you're a long time fan of her writing you might disagree. She certainly went through losses that would make anyone stagger. I just found that I couldn't identify with her experiences. She describes months of folks making sure she was taken care of. Can't relate. She recounts good times in a long marriage that involves luxurious travels and freedom gained through wealth. Can't relate. Am I jealous? Probably. I have to say that I feel like this book could have been one amazing essay, instead of a book length piece of rumination. Maybe she published it because she figured that as a widow she needed riches upon riches? Valid, but ridiculous. Everyone has bouts of narcissistic navel gazing, it's just unfortunate that this one was published with much acclaim.
I donated this to a local book swap, but made a note on it to the next reader that if you're recently bereaved and struggling, this is the absolute last book you should read for comfort, unless you are as well off as Didion.
