Notes on Grief
Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, 11. maí 2021 - 80 síður
From the globally acclaimed, best-selling novelist and author of We Should All Be Feminists, a timely and deeply personal account of the loss of her father: “With raw eloquence, Notes on Grief … captures the bewildering messiness of loss in a society that requires serenity, when you’d rather just scream. Grief is impolite ... Adichie’s words put welcome, authentic voice to this most universal of emotions, which is also one of the most universally avoided” (The Washington Post).
Notes on Grief is an exquisite work of meditation, remembrance, and hope, written in the wake of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's beloved father’s death in the summer of 2020. As the COVID-19 pandemic raged around the world, and kept Adichie and her family members separated from one another, her father succumbed unexpectedly to complications of kidney failure.
Expanding on her original New Yorker piece, Adichie shares how this loss shook her to her core. She writes about being one of the millions of people grieving this year; about the familial and cultural dimensions of grief and also about the loneliness and anger that are unavoidable in it. With signature precision of language, and glittering, devastating detail on the page—and never without touches of rich, honest humor—Adichie weaves together her own experience of her father’s death with threads of his life story, from his remarkable survival during the Biafran war, through a long career as a statistics professor, into the days of the pandemic in which he’d stay connected with his children and grandchildren over video chat from the family home in Abba, Nigeria.
In the compact format of We Should All Be Feminists and Dear Ijeawele, Adichie delivers a gem of a book—a book that fundamentally connects us to one another as it probes one of the most universal human experiences. Notes on Grief is a book for this moment—a work readers will treasure and share now more than ever—and yet will prove durable and timeless, an indispensable addition to Adichie's canon.
Niðurstöður 1 - 5 af 29
On 7 June, there was my father, only his forehead on the screen, as usual, because he never quite knew how to hold his phone during video calls. “Move your phone a bit, Daddy,” one of us would say. My father was teasing my brother Okey ...
And I am resistant: my father read the newspaper that afternoon, he joked with Okey about shaving before his ... Okey is holding a phone over my father's face, and my father looks asleep, his face relaxed, beautiful in repose.
... me a little earlier than usual and I think, Just tell me, tell me immediately, who has died now. Is it Mummy? 4. In my American home, I like to have National Public Radio on as background noise, and whenever my father was staying ...
All those standing jokes we had, frequently told and retold, my father's expression one minute utterly deadpan and, the next, wide open with delighted laughter. Another revelation: how much laughter is a part of grief.
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LibraryThing ReviewUmsögn notanda - Beth.Clarke - LibraryThing
A beautiful reflection of her grief, Adichie shares memories of her 88-yr-old father. It's a story of her going through the early stages of grief during the COVID pandemic. Honest and beautiful. Read full review
LibraryThing ReviewUmsögn notanda - Narshkite - LibraryThing
I received this book in a Goodreads Giveaway. As always, this did not affect my review. This is a gorgeous essay. In 80 short pages Adiche tells us about ugly grief. She provides a chronicle of the ... Read full review