Some readers might shy away from a novel about the struggles of patients with advanced cancer. For me, from the first page of Again & Again, I was drawn in so completely that I read nothing else until I finished the book. Wittman’s Stage 4 patients range from the delightful and rambunctious four-year-old Colin—who, everyone agrees, must not die—to the young, impetuous and emotionally-transparent Chloe, to the measured and comforting English grandmother, Doris. Paula, the nurse for these and other patients, holds the book together, allowing the several stories to dovetail smoothly.
Throughout the book, the patients’ interactions with each other and the rest of the world are both vivid and deeply moving. Wittman shows great love for a character—Chloe—who sometimes drives other people nuts. We see her outbreaks and gaffes, but because she’s young and likely to die, and knows it, and is true to her every emotion, we root for her throughout the book. I did.
With cancer always close, the drama can be fierce. The reader’s solace, on every page, is Wittman’s eloquent prose. Here’s Paula, the nurse, trying to make sense of death:
“I searched for words. No matter how many deaths I see, I can never understand how a living creature becomes a dead one. It’s unfathomable, the transformation, the difference between a limb that’s flaccid and nerveless but nonetheless living, and the odd unmoored wobbling of an arm that’s emptied of the life force. No matter how sick and wretched the dying person is, she is absolutely alive. And then, not.”
These days, this is the book I recommend to everyone.
Juliet Wittman’s Again and Again Is a moving and riveting book about cancer from the perspective of both the ones who suffer from it to the healers. It swings between two perspectives written in first person—Paula, the nurse, and Chloe, a 23-year-old suffering a terminable diagnosis. The reader is led through their lives and their battle, which includes the inequities of care for another victim, a four-year-old boy, Colin.
Wittman is no foreigner to what makes a piece a theatrical rendition of a tragedy or comedy, since she was the theater critic of Westword for years. What’s amazing about this work is how she incorporates both formulas of the tragic, death, with the comic, a wedding. There are no true endings that don’t contain both, we feel as readers, and while the subject matter is certainly focused on illness and dying, it is of those who survive and wake up, again and again, as well.
The prose is fluid and polished, the voice compassionate and vulnerable. I highly recommend this book to anyone, whether you have experienced cancer or know someone who had, or to anyone just looking to immerse themselves in the humanity of words written with care, tenderness, and the knowledge of our transitory and precious living and dying.
Last weekend I was immersed in Juliet Wittman's novel, Again & Again. I am so glad I overcame some resistance to reading about people – so richly drawn – who are facing cancer and its ravages. I feel like I lived with the irrepressible Chloe, the one too young to die, and Paula the oncology nurse and the others of their small group, and like them was nourished and uplifted while facing what at first feels impossible to face, much less, to go through. The writing is so textured, the human observations so finely tuned, the facts faced with such unflinching honesty: I came away feeling moved, uplifted and strengthened. A deeply rewarding read.
An outstanding well-written story of an oncology nurse and her patients. Focusing primarily on one rebellious young woman, the story reveals the patients' pasts and their various coping strategies. The nurse herself is dealing with infertility, so her life and marriage are experiencing turmoil too. The author is a breast cancer survivor herself, but this really isn't her personal story. It's a difficult topic and it put me through a multitude of emotions, and I'm grateful to have read it.