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Nocturne: On the Life and Death of My Brother
Helen Humphreys’ younger brother was gone before she could come to terms with the fact that he had terminal cancer. Diagnosed with stage 4B pancreatic cancer at the age of forty-five, he died four months later, leaving behind a grieving family. Martin was an extraordinary pianist who debuted at the Royal Festival Hall in London at the age of twenty, later becoming a piano teacher and senior examiner at the Royal Conservatory of Music. The two siblings, though often living far apart, were bonded on many levels.
Now Humphreys has written a deeply felt, haunting memoir both about and for her brother. Speaking directly to him, she lays bare their secrets, their disagreements, their early childhood together, their intense though unspoken love for each other. A memoir of grief, an honest self-examination in the face of profound pain, this poetic, candid and intimate book is an offering not only to the memory of Martin but to all those who are living through the death of family and friends.
Now Humphreys has written a deeply felt, haunting memoir both about and for her brother. Speaking directly to him, she lays bare their secrets, their disagreements, their early childhood together, their intense though unspoken love for each other. A memoir of grief, an honest self-examination in the face of profound pain, this poetic, candid and intimate book is an offering not only to the memory of Martin but to all those who are living through the death of family and friends.
208 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2013
5 people are currently reading
430 people want to read
About the author
Helen Humphreys
31 books421 followersHelen Humphreys is the author of five books of poetry, eleven novels, and three works of non-fiction. She was born in Kingston-on-Thames, England, and now lives in Kingston, Ontario, Canada.
Her first novel, Leaving Earth (1997), won the 1998 City of Toronto Book Award and was a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. Her second novel, Afterimage (2000), won the 2000 Rogers Writers' Trust Fiction Prize, was nominated for the Commonwealth Writers' Prize, and was a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. Her third novel, The Lost Garden (2002), was a 2003 Canada Reads selection, a national bestseller, and was also a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. Wild Dogs (2004) won the 2005 Lambda Prize for fiction, has been optioned for film, and was produced as a stage play at CanStage in Toronto in the fall of 2008. Coventry (2008) was a #1 national bestseller, was chosen as one of the top 100 books of the year by the Globe & Mail, and was chosen one of the top ten books of the year by both the Ottawa Citizen and NOW Magazine.
Humphreys's work of creative non-fiction, The Frozen Thames (2007), was a #1 national bestseller. Her collections of poetry include Gods and Other Mortals (1986); Nuns Looking Anxious, Listening to Radios (1990); and, The Perils of Geography (1995). Her latest collection, Anthem (1999), won the 2000 Canadian Authors Association Award for Poetry.
Helen Humphreys's fiction is published in Canada by HarperCollins, and in the U.S. by W.W. Norton. The Frozen Thames was published by McClelland & Stewart in Canada, and by Bantam in the U.S. Her work has been translated into many languages.
Her first novel, Leaving Earth (1997), won the 1998 City of Toronto Book Award and was a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. Her second novel, Afterimage (2000), won the 2000 Rogers Writers' Trust Fiction Prize, was nominated for the Commonwealth Writers' Prize, and was a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. Her third novel, The Lost Garden (2002), was a 2003 Canada Reads selection, a national bestseller, and was also a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. Wild Dogs (2004) won the 2005 Lambda Prize for fiction, has been optioned for film, and was produced as a stage play at CanStage in Toronto in the fall of 2008. Coventry (2008) was a #1 national bestseller, was chosen as one of the top 100 books of the year by the Globe & Mail, and was chosen one of the top ten books of the year by both the Ottawa Citizen and NOW Magazine.
Humphreys's work of creative non-fiction, The Frozen Thames (2007), was a #1 national bestseller. Her collections of poetry include Gods and Other Mortals (1986); Nuns Looking Anxious, Listening to Radios (1990); and, The Perils of Geography (1995). Her latest collection, Anthem (1999), won the 2000 Canadian Authors Association Award for Poetry.
Helen Humphreys's fiction is published in Canada by HarperCollins, and in the U.S. by W.W. Norton. The Frozen Thames was published by McClelland & Stewart in Canada, and by Bantam in the U.S. Her work has been translated into many languages.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 83 reviews
January 13, 2013
This was a luminous memoir about the life and death of Helen Humphrey's brother, a virtuoso pianist who died of cancer at 45. This slight novel packs huge emotional impact and is divided into 45 sections, one for each year of Martin's life. This is the kind of book that requires silence while reading. I could not read it on the subway or waiting in line, it was something I needed to savour in my reading chair or in bed at night. It is very sad at times, but there are also moments of joy. Humphreys gives the reader glimpses of her youth and her writing lifestyle. As always her prose is crystalline and she captures a sense of landscape and atmosphere in the fewest possible words. The book is written to and for Martin, using the second person, and at times I felt sneaky, like I was reading a private conversation between siblings. I think this speaks to the deeply personal nature of the novel/memoir.
September 7, 2016
This lovely book is not a memoir; it's a tribute to the author's late brother, and it reads like a series of small conversations with him. Near the end of the book, she explains that she decided on 45 chapters, one for each year of his life. Some are as short as a couple of lines, but all are meaningful.
Her grief is palpable throughout the book. The sense of loss, of a life cut too short by invasive cancer, is so touching that at times I cried along with her.
When she described sitting at a window, staring into the darkness unseeingly, I understood her bleakness, and ached for her.
I've read a lot of this author's works recently, and am awed by her ability to say so much in such short, concise works. This book is a gem.
Her grief is palpable throughout the book. The sense of loss, of a life cut too short by invasive cancer, is so touching that at times I cried along with her.
When she described sitting at a window, staring into the darkness unseeingly, I understood her bleakness, and ached for her.
I've read a lot of this author's works recently, and am awed by her ability to say so much in such short, concise works. This book is a gem.
May 9, 2013
A very moving memoir and testament to the life and untimely death (at 45 from pancreatic cancer) of author Helen Humphreys's brother, Martin, a concert pianist and composer. This is not an easy read. The sensitive observations of the world after one who is deeply loved has died remind readers of the rawness of their own grief. A painfully beautiful book.
July 23, 2013
I had the privilege of knowing Martin as a friend. It is not everyone who has a gifted writer as a sister, one who is able to pay tribute to a life in a way that moves and touches many readers who never knew him.
September 12, 2020
I am a total fan of Ms. Humphrey's excellent award winning fiction. This memoir has the bittersweet essence of her marvelous writing in the context of her grief over losing her equally artistic brother at the too young age of 45. Another book to be savoured rather than devoured.
November 20, 2018
Beautiful writing and a very touching book! Yes it's a memoir about the author brother death, and so it can be seen has a very personal book, but I found the experience to be very well «generalize» so it isn't anymore about her personal grief, but about grief and passing on in general, something we'll all get through somehow one day or another. It isn't a happy read but not a depressive eon either, just a very well made reflexion on the matter. Big surprise and I highly recommend it!
March 11, 2024
A beautiful book, beautifully written.
March 19, 2014
I rarely give books five stars, but I think this one deserves it. This slim book is the author's poetic and beautiful reaction to her brother's death at the age of 45. There are 45 chapters in the book. Helen Humphreys details how her brother died, what has happened since, and talks about many instances of their life together. This is a raw book about grief, and the way grief can influence how a person sees the world. It is about sibling love and how life is both beautiful and terrible.I also appreciated how Helen tied art and the practice of making art into the text.
I teared up many times while reading this book. I think it is a brave and important book and anyone who has suffered a major loss will appreciate it.
I teared up many times while reading this book. I think it is a brave and important book and anyone who has suffered a major loss will appreciate it.
January 23, 2014
A beautiful winding, nostalgic memoir of grief. Helen Humphreys' younger brother, a piano prodigy, was struck with a diagnosis of pancreatic cancer. She struggles, through her poetic writing, to come to terms with his untimely death. This book is a testament to her love and gratitude for her brother Martin, she both admired and mentored.
April 24, 2013
Beautiful. Terribly sad. Incredibly written. Heartwrenching. Read it.
September 12, 2013
Gut-wrenching, poignant, and so very sad.
November 12, 2020
This book grabbed my heart and wouldn't let go, thank you for sharing your love and grief.
January 6, 2022
Simultaneously heartbreaking and uplifting--miraculously so.
December 2, 2013
In this small miracle of a book, Helen shares the letters she wrote to her brother after his untimely death at 45. A classical pianist who was a young prodigy and with whom she grew up artistically, he was taken too young by cancer diagnosed too late.
This is a heartache of a book that details the indignities and unconscious cruelties visited on the grieving: the bargaining for a cheaper price when she was trying to sell her brother’s car, the long delay at the MTO, the doctors’ clumsy metaphors (which she sees through immediately), the detritus left behind by the dead that the living must find a way to deal with. She details the need to sleep in his sheets and wear clothing that still smelled of him, to take from his apartment small things of meaning. She revisits the early optimism and the slow progress to hopelessness, and the awful, pungent, and inexorable approach of death.
But this is also a book about a life making art, because after he died she nearly stopped writing: “I wanted to give up writing after you died, Martin. There seemed no point to it anymore. Maybe because we had grown up as artists together I felt I couldn’t go on alone.” And so it is also about the life of not just one artist but two: Martin was a musician and composer, Helen a writer, and they lent moral support to one another as artists growing up. They traveled together, shared hopes and dreams, let the other’s existence and life choices give emotional backbone to their art.
It’s a kind of luck that Helen acknowledges in various ways through the book, by affirming their bond, memories of their childhood and youth and young adulthood, and by sharing the story of these. It’s courageous and open-hearted and generous, a thing of rare beauty and wisdom fashioned from the most exquisite pain. Martin lives in these pages, and the unconscionable fact of his too-early death given meaning by the way he will live on, known in some small way by readers.
This is a heartache of a book that details the indignities and unconscious cruelties visited on the grieving: the bargaining for a cheaper price when she was trying to sell her brother’s car, the long delay at the MTO, the doctors’ clumsy metaphors (which she sees through immediately), the detritus left behind by the dead that the living must find a way to deal with. She details the need to sleep in his sheets and wear clothing that still smelled of him, to take from his apartment small things of meaning. She revisits the early optimism and the slow progress to hopelessness, and the awful, pungent, and inexorable approach of death.
But this is also a book about a life making art, because after he died she nearly stopped writing: “I wanted to give up writing after you died, Martin. There seemed no point to it anymore. Maybe because we had grown up as artists together I felt I couldn’t go on alone.” And so it is also about the life of not just one artist but two: Martin was a musician and composer, Helen a writer, and they lent moral support to one another as artists growing up. They traveled together, shared hopes and dreams, let the other’s existence and life choices give emotional backbone to their art.
It’s a kind of luck that Helen acknowledges in various ways through the book, by affirming their bond, memories of their childhood and youth and young adulthood, and by sharing the story of these. It’s courageous and open-hearted and generous, a thing of rare beauty and wisdom fashioned from the most exquisite pain. Martin lives in these pages, and the unconscionable fact of his too-early death given meaning by the way he will live on, known in some small way by readers.
March 13, 2016
I started reading this book almost a year ago, according to Goodreads, though I think I started it when I met Helen at the Sage Hill Writing workshop in the summer of 2014. So, after almost 2 years, I have finally finished it.
It is, of course, a very small book, just tickling at 200 pages without reaching it. But it is a gut punch, and one that I felt, for some reason, was best read sporadically, in small bursts of some 20 pages at a time, spanned between months. While I keep taking books down from my currently reading that I have given up on, I've never considered myself necessarily having stopped reading this one. I kept it there and kept, slowly, coming back to it, each time breaking off a little bit more of my heart.
I don't need to say much about it. It's a beautiful, painful book about Humphreys' brother (a regarded pianist) and his death at 45. The writing is bare but passioned, much like Helen herself. Today, pacing back and forth, I finally finished the last third of the book. Two years and about two thousand miles away from the little blip on the prairie where I bought it. Finally.
It is, of course, a very small book, just tickling at 200 pages without reaching it. But it is a gut punch, and one that I felt, for some reason, was best read sporadically, in small bursts of some 20 pages at a time, spanned between months. While I keep taking books down from my currently reading that I have given up on, I've never considered myself necessarily having stopped reading this one. I kept it there and kept, slowly, coming back to it, each time breaking off a little bit more of my heart.
I don't need to say much about it. It's a beautiful, painful book about Humphreys' brother (a regarded pianist) and his death at 45. The writing is bare but passioned, much like Helen herself. Today, pacing back and forth, I finally finished the last third of the book. Two years and about two thousand miles away from the little blip on the prairie where I bought it. Finally.
October 27, 2013
I found this book by coincidence. I was looking through a bookshelf at the local bookstore, just wandering, because I didn't want to go home. I just came from mom's funeral and I didn't want to return to my empty house. She died of the same cancer as Martin, the brother to whom Humphreys narrates this book. Her voice in the book is talking directly to her late brother. I relate to that action.
Still, I did not, overall, enjoy this book. There are some paragraphs that are well-written, and that resonate with my very recent loss. But much of the book, too much, is memories to which only those 2 can relate.
I'm glad I read the book. I have a feeling that it was no fluke that I found it that day, at that time.
Still, I did not, overall, enjoy this book. There are some paragraphs that are well-written, and that resonate with my very recent loss. But much of the book, too much, is memories to which only those 2 can relate.
I'm glad I read the book. I have a feeling that it was no fluke that I found it that day, at that time.
March 25, 2014
This is a beautiful book; my thanks to Alexis for reviewing it. Helen Humphreys writes with great love and longing for her younger brother, Martin - a gifted pianist, who died of cancer at a young age. It was a relatively short period of time from the diagnosis to Martin's death, and it left Helen reeling. She addresses the book to Martin and interweaves accounts of his last days with reminiscences of their time together as children, teens, and adults. Her writing is elegiac and reveals Martin as a delightful, thoughtful, caring man while also revealing the loving, caring side of the author. The book is worth reading for its own sake but it might also be a comfort for people who have lost a loved one, as it expresses a universal grief.
September 14, 2013
A moving account of Helen Humphrey's brother's life and death - encompassing his career as a pianist, her writing and their lives in the UK, Kingston, Toronto and Vancouver. She writes about the legacy of grief, that she is now "brought to my knees anytime something bad happens to a person or a creature that I love. I can't stop myself from fearing the worst, because the worst has happened."
She is always a wonderful writer and this short book is a sad and elegiac tribute as well as a vivid portrait of how losing someone close can unmoor those left behind.
She is always a wonderful writer and this short book is a sad and elegiac tribute as well as a vivid portrait of how losing someone close can unmoor those left behind.
June 16, 2013
I'm giving this 5 stars because a) Helen Humphreys is an excellent writer and b) how can you possibly rate someone's grief? A fascinating homage of a talented pianist who died too young (at the age of 45 from pancreatic cancer) by his sister. It doesn't get much more personal than this, folks. I applaud Humphreys for her courage in tackling such a painful subject. Her touching portrayal of a brother who obviously means the world to her moved me to tears. Each of us would be lucky, indeed, to have even one person in our life who loved us so fully and unconditionally.
September 13, 2013
I will read anything Humphreys writes for the sheer beauty of language she brings to the page, and this slim little memoir on grieving the death of her beloved brother is no exception. You would think a book about such a heavy subject matter would be difficult to read, but not so. Luminous, with exquisite sentences strung together to make paragraphs that leap off the page, it is written as a letter to her brother. This is not a sentimental piece of work, there is an acuteness and clarity to her grief that made for exceptional reading.
March 7, 2015
This is Helen Humphreys' beautiful and simply profound memoir about the mid-life loss of her beloved brother, concert pianist Martin Humphreys.
From a grief experience most of us could only say is 'too deep for words,' this author has listened deep, created those words, and generously shared her experience in clear, honest prose. It is a remarkable, soul-enriching gift to anyone who has lost someone they love.
From a grief experience most of us could only say is 'too deep for words,' this author has listened deep, created those words, and generously shared her experience in clear, honest prose. It is a remarkable, soul-enriching gift to anyone who has lost someone they love.
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June 1, 2015Helen Humphreya' delicate and insightful memoir about her brother, Martin, gave me language to express my feelings about the deaths of my much loved and respected mother and kid brother. They died one year to the day apart. Did not realize how permanently teardrops become fastened to a page. Thank you Helen and Martin.
May 29, 2025
L’ho riletto lentamente. Cercavo conforto, cercavo confronto con la sensibilità di un’autrice che sento vicina. Amo la sua scrittura, mi sento a mio agio fra i suoi pensieri e le sue osservazioni, provo interesse per ogni argomento di cui scrive.
May 26, 2014
Terribly sad. Terribly beautiful. This will make you cry.
March 31, 2022
TACET. Il pensiero magico di Helen
“La musica non fa che imporsi. È aggressiva. Occupa uno spazio riempiendolo di suono. Colonizza il silenzio.
…
Davvero il suono della musica è migliore del silenzio che essa invade? Questo dilemma ci sarà sempre. Capisco perché dicevi che la musica del silenzio di John Cage,…, fosse il più grande pezzo musicale mai composto. E capisco perché è ad esso che volessi tornare quando eri in punto di morte.”
“Quello che ascoltiamo è determinato dal vuoto che abbiamo dentro, da quanto siamo ricettivi; riceviamo solo nella misura in cui siamo abbastanza vuoti da poterlo fare” (J. Cage)
“A un certo punto mentre scrivevo mi sono chiesta se non dovessi rispecchiare la struttura del pezzo di Cage. Volevo organizzare i miei pensieri secondo il canone di 4’33’’…
Ma il mio dolore non è così composto, non può essere disciplinato. Avanza a grendi passi, poi si arresta di colpo. Non sono in grado di arginarlo, posso solo seguirlo passo passo…
Questo mio scrivere è anche un po’ ascoltare”
Musica, viaggi, scrittura, case, oggetti, infanzia, famiglia, cani, natura, meli, amici, alleanza, ricordi, sogni, progetti, amore, lealtà, legami…tutto sta nel TACET di questo “Notturno”.
La voce sensibile, dalla delicatezza schiva della Humpreys risuona nel pudore di questo TACET intimo, che abbraccia tutto il mondo interiore di questa scrittrice e poetessa, finanche il suo legame profondo e istintuale con la forza attrattiva della Natura.
E' il suo omaggio al fratello musicista scomparso. il suo "anno del pensiero magico".
“La musica non fa che imporsi. È aggressiva. Occupa uno spazio riempiendolo di suono. Colonizza il silenzio.
…
Davvero il suono della musica è migliore del silenzio che essa invade? Questo dilemma ci sarà sempre. Capisco perché dicevi che la musica del silenzio di John Cage,…, fosse il più grande pezzo musicale mai composto. E capisco perché è ad esso che volessi tornare quando eri in punto di morte.”
“Quello che ascoltiamo è determinato dal vuoto che abbiamo dentro, da quanto siamo ricettivi; riceviamo solo nella misura in cui siamo abbastanza vuoti da poterlo fare” (J. Cage)
“A un certo punto mentre scrivevo mi sono chiesta se non dovessi rispecchiare la struttura del pezzo di Cage. Volevo organizzare i miei pensieri secondo il canone di 4’33’’…
Ma il mio dolore non è così composto, non può essere disciplinato. Avanza a grendi passi, poi si arresta di colpo. Non sono in grado di arginarlo, posso solo seguirlo passo passo…
Questo mio scrivere è anche un po’ ascoltare”
Musica, viaggi, scrittura, case, oggetti, infanzia, famiglia, cani, natura, meli, amici, alleanza, ricordi, sogni, progetti, amore, lealtà, legami…tutto sta nel TACET di questo “Notturno”.
La voce sensibile, dalla delicatezza schiva della Humpreys risuona nel pudore di questo TACET intimo, che abbraccia tutto il mondo interiore di questa scrittrice e poetessa, finanche il suo legame profondo e istintuale con la forza attrattiva della Natura.
E' il suo omaggio al fratello musicista scomparso. il suo "anno del pensiero magico".
April 25, 2021
"è stato un errore pensare che la vita fosse come la terra solida che calpestavo, e che ogni giorno avrei potuto percorrere i miei passi sullo stesso suolo. Perdere te - proprio te, che eri alle fondamenta del mio mondo - ha reso tutto il resto così precario, mi ha lasciata a vagare come un fantasma nella mia stessa vita."
Affrontare il dolore della morte con la perdurabilità dell'arte: Helen Humphreys scrive una lunga lettera al fratello morto prematuramente. Ogni parola scritta è li per lui che non potrà leggerle, per lei che ha nella scrittura la sua catarsi, e per noi, che in quelle parole troveremo anche il nostro dolore.
Intimo, eppure universale, come il dolore.
Affrontare il dolore della morte con la perdurabilità dell'arte: Helen Humphreys scrive una lunga lettera al fratello morto prematuramente. Ogni parola scritta è li per lui che non potrà leggerle, per lei che ha nella scrittura la sua catarsi, e per noi, che in quelle parole troveremo anche il nostro dolore.
Intimo, eppure universale, come il dolore.
September 7, 2024
Beautifully written, painful, honest journey of Helen Humphreys' grief over the death of her brother Martin. He died from pancreatic cancer in a matter of months from diagnosis. They were close siblings and very similar, and Helen was left untethered by his death.
What a wonderful man Martin was. A world class pianist and composer - his piano playing was the constant soundtrack of Helen's life. He was very loved by his many friends and by his close family.
This is a profoundly deep and moving journey of grief. Of the forms it takes, how it feels, what it does to the mind and the body as related by Helen as she mourns and grapples with Martin's absence from her life.
What a wonderful man Martin was. A world class pianist and composer - his piano playing was the constant soundtrack of Helen's life. He was very loved by his many friends and by his close family.
This is a profoundly deep and moving journey of grief. Of the forms it takes, how it feels, what it does to the mind and the body as related by Helen as she mourns and grapples with Martin's absence from her life.
September 23, 2018
Gorgeous.
Breathtaking.
Crushing.
Illuminating.
Devastating.
This memoir of the grief following the death of the author's brother is tender, sweet, visceral and haunting. She oscillates between tender childhood memories and raw, gritty details about incisions and piss bags. There are stunning sections of poetic beauty and chapters recounting the sheer horror of end-of-life realities. Humphreys captures every nuance of the torrential pain that accompanies grief. This is poetry for the broken, ragged soul lamenting the loss of a loved one. Perfection.
Breathtaking.
Crushing.
Illuminating.
Devastating.
This memoir of the grief following the death of the author's brother is tender, sweet, visceral and haunting. She oscillates between tender childhood memories and raw, gritty details about incisions and piss bags. There are stunning sections of poetic beauty and chapters recounting the sheer horror of end-of-life realities. Humphreys captures every nuance of the torrential pain that accompanies grief. This is poetry for the broken, ragged soul lamenting the loss of a loved one. Perfection.
January 27, 2019
"I even wrote a line at your hospital bedside, as you lay dying, because two ideas occurred to me in that moment and I wanted to remember them. The first was just the very simple fact that, in the end, you can step out the room or you can't. That is what separates the living from the dying, that one small, enormous action. The second is the poignant truth of the flesh we live inside, that in the end the body leaks or it holds." (p. 24)
August 25, 2023
Grief is so personal. Helen found her words to sustain her as she re-lived her's and her brother's life. They were extremely close, even when apart.
Helen doesn't get distracted. She could have shared the lives and reactions of other significant people. Instead, she kept it personal between Helen and Martin.
Helen writes beautifully. Thank you for a great book.
Helen doesn't get distracted. She could have shared the lives and reactions of other significant people. Instead, she kept it personal between Helen and Martin.
Helen writes beautifully. Thank you for a great book.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 83 reviews