The Year of Magical Thinking has been everywhere for the past so long. I feel like everyone has read it. So, recently in my mindful thrift books haul, I picked it up. And I read it. And it was kind of sad. No wonder the last guy who had the book inscribed it with sharpie as a gift with, "To make you cry. Love, Andy."
Way to pick a gift book, Andy.
This is a book for those who don't want to feel alone. Those who have lost someone and need to simple, yet beautiful words, and definitions of medical jargon to fully understand and come to terms with how life is changed.
This book acts a journal for Didion, I believe.
A memory.
Way to pick a gift book, Andy.
“Life changes in the instant. The ordinary instant.”
I have never read a book by Joan Didion previously. I have, on the other hand, been reading a lot of memoirs recently. I came to notice this since right after I finished this book today while sitting in the library, I saw my next read in sight on the shelves...also a memoir. I have to take advantage of the library at school while I can after not doing so for so long!
But back to the book.
Honestly, I feel like to review this book isn't to review a book but to review someone's mind, that mind being Joan Didion's. In her challenges of grief after her husband of 40+ years died suddenly we read how she reacts and how she comes to terms with death and life by writing this short memoir encapsulating it all. This book if anything, was honest.
The book and its attention to emotional detail earned respect by letting everyone who read the book go through the pain and hardships that Didion went through within the single year after death and sickness throughout her family.
The only problem I ended with was, where exactly was the magical thinking?
I didn't see any.
Did I miss it?
I only read about living.
And though I do suppose that living on through hard times is magical, I didn't find what Didion went through was exactly magical. It was life that we all must go through no matter how terrible. There was no positive thinking in the end either besides how she understood finally in the end that after a year and some odd days, her husband would not be coming back looking for the shoes she donated.
There was no magical way of how she conquered drowning in grief. If anything, the magic that I found in this book was the distinct writing style.
Straight forward and easily understood, Didion's work kept me reading in the short bursts of when I sat down with it, usually before bed. It was the writing, though not entertaining as a novel would be, kept me involved and invested in what would happen next to her as a sort of individual reflecting on tragedy that has struck her today, as well as reflecting on the memories of tragedy when she was young with an imagination for the worst.
“Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it. We anticipate (we know) that someone close to us could die, but we do not look beyond the few days or weeks that immediately follow such an imagined death. We misconstrue the nature of even those few days or weeks. We might expect if the death is sudden to feel shock. We do not expect this shock to be obliterative, dislocating to both body and mind. We might expect that we will be prostrate, inconsolable, crazy with loss. We do not expect to be literally crazy, cool customers who believe their husband is about to return and need his shoes.”
This is a book for those who don't want to feel alone. Those who have lost someone and need to simple, yet beautiful words, and definitions of medical jargon to fully understand and come to terms with how life is changed.
This book acts a journal for Didion, I believe.
A memory.
227 pages
Published February 13th 2007
by Vintage
About the Author
Joan Didion was born in California and lives in New York City. She's best known for her novels and her literary journalism.
Her novels and essays explore the disintegration of American morals and cultural chaos, where the overriding theme is individual and social fragmentation. A sense of anxiety or dread permeates much of her work.
































