Starred review from November 9, 2020
New York Times columnist Jaouad (Life, Interrupted) makes a phenomenal debut with this big-hearted account of her devastating five-year battle with cancer. Symptoms first surfaced just before her graduation from Princeton, and she moved to Paris unaware of the cancer ravaging her bone marrow. After becoming ill, she returned to her family home in Saratoga, N.Y., and was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia. At 22, she wrote of the diagnosis, “I finally had an explanation for my itch, for my mouth sores, for my unraveling. I wasn’t a hypochondriac, after all, making up symptoms.” During her treatment, which was documented in a series of blog posts and videos for the Times, she was bolstered by heartfelt letters from readers, including one from a man in Ohio who wrote, “Meaning is not found in the material realm. Meaning is what’s left when everything else is stripped away.” As Jaouad’s cancer went into remission, she felt estranged as fellow cancer patient friends died and her longtime boyfriend left her. Finally, a hundred-day road trip visiting those who wrote her letters guided her “to live again in the aftermath.” Every chapter ends with a cliffhanger, adding a surprising level of suspense to a work where the broader outcome isn’t in question. This is a stunning memoir, well-crafted and hard to put down.
January 1, 2021
A thoughtful memoir of dealing with cancer and feeling "at sea, close to sinking, grasping at anything that might buoy me." "It began with an itch." So commences a story whose trajectory is sadly familiar to many survivors. Jaouad, then a student at Princeton, attributed it to some internal pest. "As my energy evaporated and the itch intensified," she writes, "I told myself it was because the parasite's appetite was growing. But deep down, I doubted there ever was a parasite. I began to wonder if the real problem was me." The problem was not her, though the post-graduation ambit of cocaine- and alcohol-filled nights didn't help. Eventually, home after living in Paris, the author learned the truth: She had a form of cancer that affects the blood and bone marrow, manifested by that itching and fatigue that no amount of coffee or uppers could overcome, "not evidence of partying too hard or an inability to cut it in the real world, but something concrete, something utterable that I could wrap my tongue around." Battling her advanced leukemia, Jaouad also wrestled with complicated issues about mortality and hope. Fortunately, all the endless hours in hospitals and clinics, all the chemotherapy and psychological therapy and bloodwork and anguish resulted in her continued habitation of the kingdom of earth--though not all of her fellow travelers were as fortunate. While still being treated and advised against traveling, she took a friend's ashes to India, "a first exercise in confronting my ghosts." The trip was also part of a program of lifting her vision from the intensely self-focused back to the larger world, which set her on a rehabilitative road trip and the memorable realization that "it all can be lost in a moment," good reason to enjoy life while you can. Memorable, lyrical, and ultimately hopeful: a book that speaks intently to anyone who suffers from illness and loss.
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Starred review from February 1, 2021
Jaouad, a columnist who chronicled her battle with cancer in the New York Times, expands on her experience in her debut memoir. At the age of 22, newly graduated from Princeton, she is diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia. She undergoes a plethora of intense treatments, including a bone marrow transplant and endless rounds of chemotherapy. Jaouad is adroit at describing the conflicting emotions she wades through, including rage, guilt, fear, longing, defiance, and gratitude. She befriends other cancer patients along the way, including a radiant artist named Melissa, who refuses to let her terminal diagnosis prevent her from traveling to India. Jaouad's relationship with a loyal boyfriend ultimately doesn't survive the years-long ordeal, but she finds a creative outlet through her column. Her writing attracts a multitude of readers and fellow survivors whom she seeks out on a 100-day road trip across the country when her health stabilizes. VERDICT The author's book title is a nod to Susan Sontag's Illness as Metaphor, in which she asserts that there is a "kingdom of the well" and a "kingdom of the sick." Jaouad does a beautiful job of writing from this place of "dual citizenship," where she finds pain but also joy, kinship, and possibility.--Barrie Olmstead, Lewiston P.L., ID
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Starred review from December 15, 2020
In her searing memoir, Emmy Award-winning speaker, writer, and activist Jaouad describes how, diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia at age 22, she found herself, as Susan Sontag described coping with cancer, as living in a world divided into two kingdoms: the healthy and the sick. Having to be a resident of the latter initially comes as a shock to this ambitious, energetic, and talented recent college graduate, who never expected her life to turn out the way it did, and who once looked at a future filled with infinite possibilities, only to see it "shrouded in doom." But Jaouad dug deep over the ensuing four years to write a column for the New York Times, "Life, Interrupted," about her cancer experiences, and here she painstakingly chronicles her treatment. Certain words stand out, including one she coined, "incanceration," which captures her feelings about her lengthy and difficult hospital stays. Readers will feel her anxiety, fear, and despair, but also moments of hope as she pursues life through chemotherapy and a bone-marrow transplant. Jaouad addresses the psychological toll of the illness, from depression to grief to PTSD, and, in the end, confides that she is haunted and humbled by the thought that "it can all be lost in a moment." Boldly candid and truly memorable.
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