The Book Report: A family devastated by loss takes in a little black mutt-kitten and learns, painfully and slowly and with much trouble, to live the lives they've been allowed to keep despite the life that was lost. Marriages begin and end, relationships resemble the ones they began as not at all, and through it all, for a remarkable twenty-four years, a proud black cat runs the entire world from a succession of Kiwi then Aussie kitchens, living rooms, and Asian-run delis. One day she dies, and the pain of loss renews its hold on the current family configuration...gently, clawlessly, and with a sense of the rightness of life even in the absence of our dearly, dearly beloved.
My Review: I know that the publisher feels this is superlative writing. It's plenty good enough to tell the author's story. It's not lighting up the literary firmament. But the story is the star here. It's touching and it's heartfelt; it's amazing how honest one can feel the author being; and it's quite endearing how exasperated this woman spends her life being with her lot in life.
Reading about loss is always problematic for those who have suffered it...I lost my own son at an early age...but let me tell you now that grief and grieving end up being the constants of life so it's a damn good idea to get the coping techniques of others into your head and stat. You could do a lot worse than start here.
There is a moment near the end of the book, one which for obvious reasons I won't go into in a review, but that moment, that single page and a half, would make this book worth the US$16 it costs. Peace descends on us in the oddest ways, at the strangest times, and there is absolutely no earthly connection between the ease and the suffering it replaces. Unearthly connections, well, those I am not qualified to analyze.
So then, I hear you thinking, why'd you give the book a mingy three stars? It's about a cat. That's unforgivable.