What do you think?
Rate this book
New Life, No Instructions
The Pulitzer Prize winner and New York Times bestselling author of Let’s Take the Long Way Home now gives us a stunning, exquisitely written memoir about a dramatic turning point in her life, which unexpectedly opened up a world of understanding, possibility, and connection. New Life, No Instructions is about the surprising way life can begin again, at any age.
“What do you do when the story changes in midlife? When a tale you have told yourself turns out to be a little untrue, just enough to throw the world off-kilter? It’s like leaving the train at the wrong stop: You are still you, but in a new place, there by accident or grace, and you will need your wits about you to proceed.
“Any change that matters, or takes, begins as immeasurably small. Then it accumulates, moss on stone, and after a few thousand years of not interfering, you have a glen, or a waterfall, or a field of hope where sorrow used to be.
“I suppose all of us consider our loved ones extraordinary; that is one of the elixirs of attachment. But over the months of pain and disrepair of that winter, I felt something that made the grimness tolerable: I felt blessed by the tribe I was part of. Here I was, supposedly solo, and the real truth was that I had a force field of connection surrounding me.
“Most of all I told this story because I wanted to say something about hope and the absence of it, and how we keep going anyway. About second chances, and how they’re sometimes buried amid the dross, even when you’re poised for the downhill grade. The narrative can always turn out to be a different story from what you expected.”
“What do you do when the story changes in midlife? When a tale you have told yourself turns out to be a little untrue, just enough to throw the world off-kilter? It’s like leaving the train at the wrong stop: You are still you, but in a new place, there by accident or grace, and you will need your wits about you to proceed.
“Any change that matters, or takes, begins as immeasurably small. Then it accumulates, moss on stone, and after a few thousand years of not interfering, you have a glen, or a waterfall, or a field of hope where sorrow used to be.
“I suppose all of us consider our loved ones extraordinary; that is one of the elixirs of attachment. But over the months of pain and disrepair of that winter, I felt something that made the grimness tolerable: I felt blessed by the tribe I was part of. Here I was, supposedly solo, and the real truth was that I had a force field of connection surrounding me.
“Most of all I told this story because I wanted to say something about hope and the absence of it, and how we keep going anyway. About second chances, and how they’re sometimes buried amid the dross, even when you’re poised for the downhill grade. The narrative can always turn out to be a different story from what you expected.”
4 pages, Audio CD
First published April 1, 2014
115 people are currently reading
2322 people want to read
About the author
Gail Caldwell
11 books226 followersGail Caldwell is the former chief book critic for The Boston Globe, where she was a staff writer and critic for more than twenty years. In 2001, she was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Criticism. She is also the author of A Strong West Wind, a memoir of her native Texas. Caldwell lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 268 reviews
February 26, 2014
Having read and enjoyed Let's Take the Long Way Home: A Memoir of Friendship, I was curious about and very happy to have the opportunity to read this "sequel" of sorts that picks up several years after Caldwell's friend Caroline's death and after the subsequent death of her parents and her beloved dog Clementine. It's a story of love, life, death, mourning and cheer, health and pain, struggle and recovery -- this time physical. It's also a story of giving up life-long suppositions and accepting change. And all of this from the need for a new hip...a quite drastic need, it turns out.
The book follows a non-linear route, taking us back and forth to her childhood in Texas, around the country briefly, to her landing point in Cambridge, Massachusetts. There may be some repetition from the first book but if there is it didn't bother me at all. The anecdotes all seemed to be new ones and most of the story is entirely new. She discusses her relationship with her parents, especially her mother, getting a new dog, a Samoyed pup, while she was in her late 50s and wondering at her decreased mobility.
To say much more would spoil what she writes, but I will try to pick out a couple of my favorite quotes.
I do wish I could leave a few notes for the dead,
to give them crucial details. to tell my mother that I am
all right: strong and safe and still planting the field
pansies and red geraniums she loved at the start of every
spring. I would like my dad to know that his memory still
causes a sensation of warmth in my heart, like being held
from the inside out. I wish I could wrap my arms around
Clementine, and tell her she's my good girl always.
And I wish Caroline knew how much my loving her, even
after her death, has made me a better friend in the world.
She would like that I think.
And on a different note, and as one who has seen both sides of rehab having worked for 30 years as an OT and been through countess sessions of PT and OT myself in recent years, there is this:
But of all the advice and support I received, the one
comment that stood out after surgery had come from a young
guy who liked to remind people how tough he was. He'd had
shoulder surgery a few years earlier, and the night I
came to the meeting to say good-bye, he broke role long
enough to slap me on the back as he was leaving. 'Rehab
sucks,' he said, but you gotta do it.'
I do recommend this book highly. In many ways Caldwell's story, while purely her own, could be yours or mine.
An advance copy of this book was provided by the publisher through NetGalley for the purpose of review.
The book follows a non-linear route, taking us back and forth to her childhood in Texas, around the country briefly, to her landing point in Cambridge, Massachusetts. There may be some repetition from the first book but if there is it didn't bother me at all. The anecdotes all seemed to be new ones and most of the story is entirely new. She discusses her relationship with her parents, especially her mother, getting a new dog, a Samoyed pup, while she was in her late 50s and wondering at her decreased mobility.
To say much more would spoil what she writes, but I will try to pick out a couple of my favorite quotes.
I do wish I could leave a few notes for the dead,
to give them crucial details. to tell my mother that I am
all right: strong and safe and still planting the field
pansies and red geraniums she loved at the start of every
spring. I would like my dad to know that his memory still
causes a sensation of warmth in my heart, like being held
from the inside out. I wish I could wrap my arms around
Clementine, and tell her she's my good girl always.
And I wish Caroline knew how much my loving her, even
after her death, has made me a better friend in the world.
She would like that I think.
And on a different note, and as one who has seen both sides of rehab having worked for 30 years as an OT and been through countess sessions of PT and OT myself in recent years, there is this:
But of all the advice and support I received, the one
comment that stood out after surgery had come from a young
guy who liked to remind people how tough he was. He'd had
shoulder surgery a few years earlier, and the night I
came to the meeting to say good-bye, he broke role long
enough to slap me on the back as he was leaving. 'Rehab
sucks,' he said, but you gotta do it.'
I do recommend this book highly. In many ways Caldwell's story, while purely her own, could be yours or mine.
An advance copy of this book was provided by the publisher through NetGalley for the purpose of review.
August 11, 2016
I was too absorbed in learning how to be a newspaper lady, as my mom called me, when Gail Caldwell won a Pulitzer for criticism in 2001. I wouldn't discover her beautiful writing until I read her wonderful second memoir, Let's Take the Long Way Home, about her friendship with Caroline Knapp. There are so few acknowledged, lovely narratives about the beautifully deep intimacy of the bonds women forge with one another -- Ann Patchett's Truth and Beauty is another -- that after reading that book, I kept an eye out for more of Caldwell's work.
New Life, No Instructions is a bit of a follow up to the last memoir Caldwell wrote, except this story centers on her hip replacement surgery because of a bout with polio that began for her in 1951. That she has to have this risky surgery after her dog has died and her friend is gone and her mother is dying and her father is gone feels like it is one bad bit of news after another. But Caldwell is a Texas woman in all the best ways -- she uses adversity, loneliness and heartache to light the way for those of us in a similarly dark place.
There were a lot of passages I liked, including:
"Most of all I told this story because I wanted to say something about hope and the absence of it, and how we keep going anyway. About second chances, and how they're sometimes buried amid the dross, even when you're poised for the downhill grade. The narrative can always turn out to be a different story from what you expected."
"We love what we love in spite of ourselves, toward something larger and more generous than the velvet prison of self."
"We need imperfection in our relationships, else we would die from the thickness of intimacy. We probably need the I-hate-yous, the spit-up on the baby blanket, to be able to bear how much we love them."
I'm inclined to relate to a lot of what Caldwell has written, since there are some overlaps in our experiences -- I once was a rower, I experienced the overlapping grief she writes about not long ago and I hope that by writing that story, it serves to remind others and myself about the miracle of resilience that shows up in the most unlikely circumstances. Dog lovers, too, will find some familiar and funny insights here worth reading and re-reading.
New Life, No Instructions is a bit of a follow up to the last memoir Caldwell wrote, except this story centers on her hip replacement surgery because of a bout with polio that began for her in 1951. That she has to have this risky surgery after her dog has died and her friend is gone and her mother is dying and her father is gone feels like it is one bad bit of news after another. But Caldwell is a Texas woman in all the best ways -- she uses adversity, loneliness and heartache to light the way for those of us in a similarly dark place.
There were a lot of passages I liked, including:
"Most of all I told this story because I wanted to say something about hope and the absence of it, and how we keep going anyway. About second chances, and how they're sometimes buried amid the dross, even when you're poised for the downhill grade. The narrative can always turn out to be a different story from what you expected."
"We love what we love in spite of ourselves, toward something larger and more generous than the velvet prison of self."
"We need imperfection in our relationships, else we would die from the thickness of intimacy. We probably need the I-hate-yous, the spit-up on the baby blanket, to be able to bear how much we love them."
I'm inclined to relate to a lot of what Caldwell has written, since there are some overlaps in our experiences -- I once was a rower, I experienced the overlapping grief she writes about not long ago and I hope that by writing that story, it serves to remind others and myself about the miracle of resilience that shows up in the most unlikely circumstances. Dog lovers, too, will find some familiar and funny insights here worth reading and re-reading.
May 8, 2014
Excellent memoir! Will write more later but for now I'll just say I highly recommend it and plan to read more of Gail's books!
Some favorite quotes - " We need to remember, I think, that dying isn't the worst thing. That getting to love someone on the way out is a great honor, easy to forget in the wake of so much sorrow."
"... run past all your sorrows, and dance and keep on going, until we all fall down."
This is a beautifully written book, very moving with lots of lessons on perseverance; never giving up and facing your fears. She also writes how she dealt with the loss of important people in her life and how dogs helped her. I really loved this book!
Some favorite quotes - " We need to remember, I think, that dying isn't the worst thing. That getting to love someone on the way out is a great honor, easy to forget in the wake of so much sorrow."
"... run past all your sorrows, and dance and keep on going, until we all fall down."
This is a beautifully written book, very moving with lots of lessons on perseverance; never giving up and facing your fears. She also writes how she dealt with the loss of important people in her life and how dogs helped her. I really loved this book!
May 3, 2014
A childhood bout with polio left Caldwell with one shorter leg than the other, a condition that caused her to walk later than usual and which caused her a great deal of pain throughout her life. A hip operation in her late fifties caused her to take stock of her life, and after the pain and frustration of physical therapy, to celebrate a new way of life. Loved her closeness and memories of her father, and of course her love for dogs which plays an important part in her life.
Good memoir, an ode to second and new chances.
Good memoir, an ode to second and new chances.
February 19, 2015
Caldwell, former chief book critic for the Boston Globe and 2001 Pulitzer Prize winner for criticism, lost her parents, her best friend, and a beloved dog all within six years. Moreover, she’d always limped and hunched in pain after having polio as a child in early-1950s Texas. She dealt with post-polio syndrome by jokingly telling people she had a “bum leg” (an editor once said to her “I always thought that was a swagger”), but gradually started having more falls. After a move to New England, she spent her thirties immersed in both freelance writing and alcoholism; she never married but has maintained a strong support system of friends.
This is a short but incisive memoir about how Caldwell changed her life through hip replacement surgery and a new puppy. The surgery, on Halloween 2011, lengthened her right leg by 5/8 of an inch; the puppy, Tula the Samoyed, made her “feel like someone just put a poultice on my heart.” One of the most touching aspects of the book is seeing the “choreography of comfort” friends put together to take care of Gail and Tula during her recovery.
There was also, always, Caldwell’s mother, Ruby. When she was one and two years old in Texas, Ruby spent two hours a day with her on the living room floor, helping her towards walking; when Gail was in AA, she gave up alcohol in sympathy. As the years pass, Caldwell has to be the one offering support, a metaphorical reversal of roles that she chronicles with real sensitivity.
The voice here is very similar to Anne Lamott’s, though I was also especially reminded of Eileen Battersby’s Ordinary Dogs and Elisabeth Tova Bailey’s The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating. Battersby is also a single literary critic whose dogs have been her family, while Bailey suffered from chronic disease and pain.
My favorite lines (very reminiscent of Lamott indeed) reflect on the way tiny alterations combine to create major life changes:
“Any change that matters, or takes, begins as immeasurably small. Then it accumulates, moss on stone, and after a few thousand years of not interfering, you have a glen, or a waterfall, or a field of hope where sorrow used to be. You have a second chance, or an unexpected kindness, or a voice singing somewhere that floods you with light. You have a leg that works a little better than you ever believed possible.”
Lovely stuff. (See a cute illustration of the premise here.)
This is a short but incisive memoir about how Caldwell changed her life through hip replacement surgery and a new puppy. The surgery, on Halloween 2011, lengthened her right leg by 5/8 of an inch; the puppy, Tula the Samoyed, made her “feel like someone just put a poultice on my heart.” One of the most touching aspects of the book is seeing the “choreography of comfort” friends put together to take care of Gail and Tula during her recovery.
There was also, always, Caldwell’s mother, Ruby. When she was one and two years old in Texas, Ruby spent two hours a day with her on the living room floor, helping her towards walking; when Gail was in AA, she gave up alcohol in sympathy. As the years pass, Caldwell has to be the one offering support, a metaphorical reversal of roles that she chronicles with real sensitivity.
The voice here is very similar to Anne Lamott’s, though I was also especially reminded of Eileen Battersby’s Ordinary Dogs and Elisabeth Tova Bailey’s The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating. Battersby is also a single literary critic whose dogs have been her family, while Bailey suffered from chronic disease and pain.
My favorite lines (very reminiscent of Lamott indeed) reflect on the way tiny alterations combine to create major life changes:
“Any change that matters, or takes, begins as immeasurably small. Then it accumulates, moss on stone, and after a few thousand years of not interfering, you have a glen, or a waterfall, or a field of hope where sorrow used to be. You have a second chance, or an unexpected kindness, or a voice singing somewhere that floods you with light. You have a leg that works a little better than you ever believed possible.”
Lovely stuff. (See a cute illustration of the premise here.)
April 20, 2014
Here's the thing: Caldwell's second memoir, Let's Take the Long Way Home, sets a really high bar. It's sad and simple and profound and totally wrenching in its portrayal of the loss of a friend. By contrast I found her first memoir about growing up on the plains of West Texas a bit boring. I was excited for this one, Number Three.
And it's disappointing. It's a bit of a melange of themes from the earlier two books: her parents, her childhood polio, her grief, and her dogs (a new one this time around). But its subtitle could also reasonably be "A Memoir of My Hip Replacement." Seriously. While Caldwell's hip replacement is bound up in the aforementioned childhood polio and while the writing is still quite lovely a lot of the time, a hip replacement just can't compete with the death of one's closest friend in terms of subject matter. I get that the transformation wrought by the hip replacement was pretty profound for Caldwell, but her writing didn't always convey this. All that said, the book is brief; it'll only take you a few hours. And in a world that mostly celebrates romantic partnership, Caldwell is still really articulate in her descriptions of the power of friendship.
And it's disappointing. It's a bit of a melange of themes from the earlier two books: her parents, her childhood polio, her grief, and her dogs (a new one this time around). But its subtitle could also reasonably be "A Memoir of My Hip Replacement." Seriously. While Caldwell's hip replacement is bound up in the aforementioned childhood polio and while the writing is still quite lovely a lot of the time, a hip replacement just can't compete with the death of one's closest friend in terms of subject matter. I get that the transformation wrought by the hip replacement was pretty profound for Caldwell, but her writing didn't always convey this. All that said, the book is brief; it'll only take you a few hours. And in a world that mostly celebrates romantic partnership, Caldwell is still really articulate in her descriptions of the power of friendship.
Read
March 27, 2014Ok, first I have to say that I don’t think I ever talked about Let’s Take the Long Way Home, which was Caldwell’s story of her relationship with her best friend, Caroline, and Caroline’s subsequent death. I read it in 2012 and it has stayed with me. I highly recommend that one – beautiful story, great writing. This one did not speak to me quite as much, mostly because it was about things I’m not as interested in, namely dogs and hip replacement surgery. But credit must go to Caldwell because I enjoyed the book despite the fact that I am decidedly not a dog person, and her description of having had polio as a child (the ultimate cause of her hip replacement) was compelling. I’m afraid I’m selling it short a little bit, because the book is about loneliness and community more than it’s about dogs, and I am a big fan of Caldwell and her writing. Recommended for: dog people, people who live alone, readers of her other work.
February 13, 2015
Another exquisitely written book from Gail Caldwell.
I also know that my living alone had a huge impact on the help I got, and not simply because people think, "Oh, she's solo; she needs a hand." It's because solitude itself makes you stretch your heart - the usual buffers of spouse and children are missing, so you reach toward the next circle of intimacy. I've appreciated this distinction for years: Single people form different depths and kinds of attachments with their principals, partly because of the time and space being vacated where a partner might have stood. [...] [T]here might be a heroic husband taking care of everything, or an ambivalent spouse dealing with her own caretaker issues, or a teenage son stealing my painkillers or deciding to go to medical school. Romantic partners and offspring always get first shot at being the main characters, and inevitably they change the plot around. Happens every time.
February 27, 2014
A big 'Thank You' to NetGalley for an e-copy of this latest book by Gail Caldwell.
This is the second book I've read by this author and have thoroughly enjoyed both of them. She's an expert at getting her point across using plain English, no bad language, and exceptional prose.
Ms. Caldwell can take ordinary happenings in life, or not so ordinary in her case in this book, and writes a story that leaves me wanting more. She has suffered immeasurable loss in recent years and writing about it seems to make her an even stronger writer.
In this memoir, she must undergo a total hip replacement after suffering so much pain for most of her life due to polio as an infant. She includes her friends, her doctors, and of course, her new dog and weaves this situation into a story with many beautiful passages. There is also emphasis on her parents, especially her mother, an extraordinary woman who helped Gail in many ways.
I love to read this remarkable author and will patently await her next novel/memoir.
This is the second book I've read by this author and have thoroughly enjoyed both of them. She's an expert at getting her point across using plain English, no bad language, and exceptional prose.
Ms. Caldwell can take ordinary happenings in life, or not so ordinary in her case in this book, and writes a story that leaves me wanting more. She has suffered immeasurable loss in recent years and writing about it seems to make her an even stronger writer.
In this memoir, she must undergo a total hip replacement after suffering so much pain for most of her life due to polio as an infant. She includes her friends, her doctors, and of course, her new dog and weaves this situation into a story with many beautiful passages. There is also emphasis on her parents, especially her mother, an extraordinary woman who helped Gail in many ways.
I love to read this remarkable author and will patently await her next novel/memoir.
April 25, 2014
Dog lover and writer pens another personal piece, this one on her hip replacement surgery. I love her clear, simple writing that cuts to the heart.
"Dogs have a present-tense alacrity that makes short shrift of yesterday's bad news. They are hard-wired to charge forth, to expect good outcomes, and that viewpoint can shape the future as much as it anticipates it."
"A lot of my adult life has been spent within shouting distance of others but in my own tent. Never married, no children, myriad levels of deep connection with men and women both. And animals..."
"I've been asked if I was resentful about getting a new diagnosis as late as I did, at least a decade beyond the initial symptoms that indicated my hip was failing. The answer is no, and not because I'm trying to be valiant. I think it's because of all the years I've spent in AA meetings, listening to people's stories. They can be terrible stories, full of anguish and fear and disrepair. But the point is not to spin the narrative; that defeats the purpose, in some way, of the story itself. You can't change the tale so that you turned left one day instead of right, or didn't make the mistake that might have saved your life a day later. We don't get those choices. The story is what got you here, and embracing its truth is what makes the outcome bearable."
[Excellent advice for my sister, Kathi.)
The book and story ends a bit too soon for my liking, but let's hope she has more to say later.
"Dogs have a present-tense alacrity that makes short shrift of yesterday's bad news. They are hard-wired to charge forth, to expect good outcomes, and that viewpoint can shape the future as much as it anticipates it."
"A lot of my adult life has been spent within shouting distance of others but in my own tent. Never married, no children, myriad levels of deep connection with men and women both. And animals..."
"I've been asked if I was resentful about getting a new diagnosis as late as I did, at least a decade beyond the initial symptoms that indicated my hip was failing. The answer is no, and not because I'm trying to be valiant. I think it's because of all the years I've spent in AA meetings, listening to people's stories. They can be terrible stories, full of anguish and fear and disrepair. But the point is not to spin the narrative; that defeats the purpose, in some way, of the story itself. You can't change the tale so that you turned left one day instead of right, or didn't make the mistake that might have saved your life a day later. We don't get those choices. The story is what got you here, and embracing its truth is what makes the outcome bearable."
[Excellent advice for my sister, Kathi.)
The book and story ends a bit too soon for my liking, but let's hope she has more to say later.
April 18, 2014
I loved Let's Take the Long Way Home so so much. Gail Caldwell just seems so spiky and cool and determined! This is a bit of a cautionary tale of medical advice as doctors put Caldwell's increasing pain down to the polio she had as a baby and corresponding limp when it turns out that she was overdue for a hip replacement. Most of us laymen can't read an x-ray but apparently, her hip was so damaged it was obvious to her. I loved the description of looking at the x-ray: "I felt like I was shaking hands with my own history. Oh, so there it is, I thought. There's a picture of all that pain."
I find Caldwell's insight into the friendships of single women vs married people really comforting somehow. She calls it the Friends of Gail group. Different people take care of her, cook, take her dog for a walk etc etc. And poor Tula, her Samoyed, is traumatised by Caldwell when she comes home from the hospital and won't go near her as if she can smell the illness! I love Caldwell's fierce love for her dogs and for her friend, Caroline.
I only wish this book was a bit longer!
I find Caldwell's insight into the friendships of single women vs married people really comforting somehow. She calls it the Friends of Gail group. Different people take care of her, cook, take her dog for a walk etc etc. And poor Tula, her Samoyed, is traumatised by Caldwell when she comes home from the hospital and won't go near her as if she can smell the illness! I love Caldwell's fierce love for her dogs and for her friend, Caroline.
I only wish this book was a bit longer!
March 11, 2014
It's very hard for a single person, living with just her dog, to face a debilitating operation, which involves huge problems of mobility, when already troubled by the after effects of polio as a child which left Gail with one leg shorter than the other. This proved to be something of a red herring and led to medical problems being misdiagnosed until her hip needed complete replacement.
Fortunately, she was blessed with wonderful friends and family, to help her through the long period of immobility.
Her beloved dog, a Samoyed, Tula, who, rather than being a sympathetic helpmeet, was rather in fear of the invalid, but they muddled through and the surgeon was able to reconstruct the damaged leg whilst replacing the hip, so in middle age, Gail had a new start in life.
It's a heart warming memoir, reinforcing that whilst there's life, there's hope.
May 7, 2014
I heard Gail interviewed on NPR recently and went and picked up this book, and her earlier memoir, Take the Long Way home. Enjoyed both immensely. Her fierce intelligence shines through - her appreciation of friendship, her love of literature, her endurance, her insight - these are what make Caldwell an approachable and likeable writer. Her love of dogs is appealing and the mindfulness of being out in nature, rowing, or walking in the woods, show a disposition that is rooted in the world, all while living a life of the mind. Her moments of anxiety are by times funny and poignant. As a ferociously independent single woman of middle age who also did not marry (yet!), and who left home to pursue a career, I relate to her story. I think I need to get a dog.
June 2, 2014
When I started this, I thought it was about dogs. And I like dogs. But it morphed into so much more than that. It just took a while for it to stop being about dogs. I will look for more writing by Caldwell and will definitely revisit this when I need some perspective during times of grief. Or if I get hip surgery. Or a dog, definitely if I get a dog, or just think about getting a dog.
Provided by publisher
Provided by publisher
July 3, 2024
This is really well done. True to her style, she combines a selection of things that only she can: adopting a new puppy, having a hip replacement, and then (briefly) her mother dies. I’m not sure anyone else could sew those things into one coherent story, but she does. It was interesting to hear her story about hip replacement surgery—it seemed to me that it may have been a semi-common story for many hip replacement patients, but what do I know?
What I especially love about Gail Caldwell is that she represents the less commonly-portrayed adult experience — unmarried, no kids. It’s just really nice to see her representing the “other” in a world full of couples and kids.
“We survive grief merely and surely by outlasting it.”
What I especially love about Gail Caldwell is that she represents the less commonly-portrayed adult experience — unmarried, no kids. It’s just really nice to see her representing the “other” in a world full of couples and kids.
“We survive grief merely and surely by outlasting it.”
January 6, 2025
Listened to this while dying extensions so I had no hands free to tag many good quotes. But I did enjoy the story and the multiple lessons I found within.
“What do you do when the story changes in midlife? When the tale you have told yourself turns out to be a little untrue. Just enough to throw the world off kilter. It’s like leaving the train at the wrong stop. You are still you but in a new place - there by accident or grace and you will need your wits about you to proceed. The revelation that there was a medical solution before me - a high tech fix to pain and infirmity that by now seemed endemic and existential - shifted the angle of my vision in some essential way. It opened up the future and tinted the past in the way that the unexpected can always disarm the reach of yesterday.”
“We are all a bit of her, blundering through life and finding purchase wherever the heart lands. It is a drama reenacted the world over and throughout time. Hope against reality, carving out a few moments of magic and mutual comfort between the pure beginning and the equally uncertain end.”
“I had been falling a lot lately and spending energy trying not to notice.”
“What do you do when the story changes in midlife? When the tale you have told yourself turns out to be a little untrue. Just enough to throw the world off kilter. It’s like leaving the train at the wrong stop. You are still you but in a new place - there by accident or grace and you will need your wits about you to proceed. The revelation that there was a medical solution before me - a high tech fix to pain and infirmity that by now seemed endemic and existential - shifted the angle of my vision in some essential way. It opened up the future and tinted the past in the way that the unexpected can always disarm the reach of yesterday.”
“We are all a bit of her, blundering through life and finding purchase wherever the heart lands. It is a drama reenacted the world over and throughout time. Hope against reality, carving out a few moments of magic and mutual comfort between the pure beginning and the equally uncertain end.”
“I had been falling a lot lately and spending energy trying not to notice.”
March 24, 2019
Through the eyes of someone who has thought their life was set, witty and down-to earth explanation of what is like in the life of Gail. Hardships and everyday life, gives reader a path to stop and think of their own path.
May 15, 2024
The topics of this memoir aren't particularly unique (a 50-something undergoing a major orthopedic surgery and slowly recovering through therapy, getting a puppy, mourning the loss of a parent), but Caldwell's writing is beautiful, so I enjoyed this work quite a bit.
May 19, 2014
I was familiar with this author from having read her earlier memoir, Let's Take the Long Way Home. In that book, the author's insights and lyrical writing just took my breath away. She articulated both the beauty and the deep pain of a close friendship.
This time, Ms. Caldwell's focus is on a dog, a debilitating medical condition and the death of her mother. Of the three topics, I was most drawn to her chapters on her mother's life. I haven't walked that particular road, although I see it coming. But I'm not a dog lover nor do I have a lot of interest in medical discussions, so the rest of the book was a tough slog for me.
On the whole, I just didn't have those moments when I was rendered breathless by the author's keen insights or skillful writing. But there is one passage I felt made the whole read worthwhile concerning regrets and would-have, could-have, should-have thinking. When asked whether she regretted that her medical condition was misdiagnosed for a decade, causing her severe and unnecessary suffering, she has this to say:
"You can't change the tale so that you turned left one day instead of right, or didn't make the mistake that might have saved your life a day later. We don't get those choices. The story is what got you here, and embracing its truth is what makes the outcome bearable."
That pretty much sums up the author's commendable life philosophy, one that is obviously hard won and serves her well, as it would us all.
This time, Ms. Caldwell's focus is on a dog, a debilitating medical condition and the death of her mother. Of the three topics, I was most drawn to her chapters on her mother's life. I haven't walked that particular road, although I see it coming. But I'm not a dog lover nor do I have a lot of interest in medical discussions, so the rest of the book was a tough slog for me.
On the whole, I just didn't have those moments when I was rendered breathless by the author's keen insights or skillful writing. But there is one passage I felt made the whole read worthwhile concerning regrets and would-have, could-have, should-have thinking. When asked whether she regretted that her medical condition was misdiagnosed for a decade, causing her severe and unnecessary suffering, she has this to say:
"You can't change the tale so that you turned left one day instead of right, or didn't make the mistake that might have saved your life a day later. We don't get those choices. The story is what got you here, and embracing its truth is what makes the outcome bearable."
That pretty much sums up the author's commendable life philosophy, one that is obviously hard won and serves her well, as it would us all.
January 25, 2015
I haven't read any of the author's previous work and so I don't know if this book was intended to be a sequel to any of her books referenced in the jacket. She explains how she was a victim of polio at birth and how the virus caused her to limp because one leg was slightly shorter than the other; the impact of this condition pervades throughout the book and strongly affects her resolve on most aspects of her life, from her quasi rebellious youth, through her determination to excel at her job and manage life alone; she displaces long-term mates with her beloved dogs- I love this part of her and wish I would have done more of that. Because her mobility (caused by polio and some negligence on her part) steadily decreases, she is forced to have a hip replacement and much of the book discusses this slow healing process. Caldwell's compassion for her dogs is clear- I think it would be difficult for her not to have one. I particularly liked the parting words and thoughts she had about her mother who was with her every step of the way from her birth to her death (and maybe still). The book is well written and I recommend it.
February 28, 2015
A beautifully written memoir about how a huge change in mid-life can throw you and be a blessing at the same time. Caldwell does a great job taking her own experience and making bits and pieces of it universal. For example:
Insights like this kept me reading, even though she made me cry and I'm not huge for crying books. I love how Caldwell is unapologetic about her life and her choices, and she seems like the sort of person I would love to meet over a cup of coffee or, better yet, while walking her dog. A very good read, and nearly four stars.
So I will choose the living, the choice we must keep on making. I will choose my living, imperfect, bossy dog over the glistening scrim of memories I have bestowed upon the past. We need imperfection in our relationships, else we would die from the thickness of intimacy. We probably need the I-hate-yous, the spit-up on the baby blanket, to be able to bear how much we love them.
Insights like this kept me reading, even though she made me cry and I'm not huge for crying books. I love how Caldwell is unapologetic about her life and her choices, and she seems like the sort of person I would love to meet over a cup of coffee or, better yet, while walking her dog. A very good read, and nearly four stars.
May 26, 2014
It took me a little bit to get into this book, but once I did I loved it. This beautifully written memoir recounts the mid-life crisis the author felt when her physical health deteriorated to the point that she feared for her future mobility and independence. Ms. Caldwell faced these issues while still dealing with the death of her mother, and of a beloved dog. Her strong circle of friends, family, and a new pet in her life, helped support her during this episode. But her strong determination to regain lost strength and function were the most impactful part of the story for me. I read this while facing some physical challenges and similar fears of my own, and Gail Caldwell's hard work to enhance her recovery were inspiring, and helped me to remind myself to keep working diligently.
February 10, 2014
While this memoir is no match for the emotionally powerful "Let's Take the Long Way Home", this is a strong follow up and speaks to the author's physical maladies that she erroneously attributes to post polio syndrome and end up requiring major surgery.
The book begins with her finding a new dog (Tula) after the death of of a beloved pet and as she is training the puppy, she sees and feels her physical decline in comparison to the puppy's strength. The author has always prided herself on her athleticism, with much time devoted to swimming and rowing in her prior book, as well as long romps with her dog, so it is with difficulty that she faces her impairment.
There is some time-shifting as she describes her mother's decline and eventual death, but it wasn't a disruptive tact in terms of the general linear nature of her story.
The book begins with her finding a new dog (Tula) after the death of of a beloved pet and as she is training the puppy, she sees and feels her physical decline in comparison to the puppy's strength. The author has always prided herself on her athleticism, with much time devoted to swimming and rowing in her prior book, as well as long romps with her dog, so it is with difficulty that she faces her impairment.
There is some time-shifting as she describes her mother's decline and eventual death, but it wasn't a disruptive tact in terms of the general linear nature of her story.
September 26, 2015
As a reticent reader of non-fiction, I was happy to discover Gail Caldwell earlier this year. Her books are just so comfortable and readable. While not packing the same punch as Let's Take the Long Way Home: A Memoir of Friendship, this book is still a good read and Ms. Caldwell's writing style makes me feel as if she is sitting across from me telling me the tale herself. If you enjoyed Long Walk, I think you will enjoy this one too. You don't necessarily have to have read the previous book to read this one, but it does help to put the story into better context.
October 28, 2015
Oh,heck, I don't know. I was excited to read this based on the description, which made it sound like a dramatic turn of events forced Caldwell to eye-examine her whole life. And yes, I suppose that did happen, but it was FAR less dramatic than I had anticipated. I don't want to wish tragedy on anyone, but I found myself asking, "Wait. That's it?!?"
Her writing is eloquent and as introspective as you would expect a memoir to be, but I was left wanting a whole lot more. I did also find the organization of the book choppy.
Overall, not a bad read/listen, but I think I had just expected something very different than what it actually was.
Her writing is eloquent and as introspective as you would expect a memoir to be, but I was left wanting a whole lot more. I did also find the organization of the book choppy.
Overall, not a bad read/listen, but I think I had just expected something very different than what it actually was.
May 23, 2014
This was such a short book, that it was over before I could really feel what it was all about. Because of her polio and long overdue diagnosis of hip arthritis, hers was not a typical hip replacement surgery. One of the reasons why I picked up this book is that I'm about to have back surgery and thought I'd find some information about a difficult journey here. I certainly hope mine isn't as difficult as hers, but she certainly worked hard to reclaim her life. I don't have to go it alone, as she did, so it makes me appreciate my husband even more.
June 30, 2014
I loved Lets Take the Long Way Home. The themes of love and friendship are universal and appealing. I like Gail Caldwell's writing it's very warm and accessible with out sounding sloppy or too familiar. Unfortunately I wasn't taken with this memoir. Hip surgery and adjusting to a new puppy are experiences people tend edit out when telling their story (for good reason). So,although I think Caldwell did a good job with her material it just didn't resonate with me.
June 22, 2014
It's rare that I finish a book in one day, but this is a short one and it really grabbed me. I related to the first half of the book, as a pet owner whose companion animal was recently diagnosed with a chronic disease. I related to the second half, as an adult who has overcome a disability. She captures the nuances of that experience as only someone who has been there can. I hope writing this memoir was as therapeutic for the author as reading it was for me.
December 9, 2014
This was a beautifully written memoir with elegant prose and a nice story to boot. Our author writes about a few topics: her surgery that helped her learn to walk properly, her relationship with animals, as well as her relationship with her mother. The book jumps back and forth with an ease that is hard to come across naturally but she does so very eloquently. This was a very short book but it was a powerful one that makes me think about my own life and how I live it.
February 5, 2015
Gail Caldwell and Caroline Knapp are by far my 2 favorite memoirists. I have read everything either of them has published and they are all excellent. This one is no exception. It's a sequel of sorts to Let's Take the Long Way Home.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 268 reviews