What if the great love of your life is friendship? In their twenties, Lissa Soep and her boyfriend forged deep friendships with two other couples—Mercy and Christine; and Emily and Jonnie—until, decades later, Jonnie died suddenly, in an accident, and Christine passed away after a mysterious illness. Christine had been a writer, Jonnie a storyteller. Lissa couldn’t imagine a world without their letters, postcards, texts—a world without their voices. Then she found comfort in a surprising place. As a graduate student, she had studied the philosophy of the Russian critic Mikhail Bakhtin, who wrote about the many voices that can echo through a single person’s speech. Suddenly, Bakhtin’s theory that our language is “filled to overflowing with other people’s words” came to life. Lissa began hearing Jonnie and Christine when least expected. In a conversation with Emily, a familiar phrase was spoken, and suddenly, there was Jonnie, with his riotous laugh, vibrant in her mind. Mercy recited an Adrienne Rich poem in just the way Christine used to and, for a moment, Christine was with them in the room. Other People’s Words shows us how we carry within us the language of loved ones who are gone, and how their words can be portals to other times and places. Language—as with love—is boundless, and Other People’s Words is an intimate, original, and profoundly generous look at its power to nurture life amid the wreckage of grief. Dialogues do not end when a friendship or person is gone; instead, they accrue new layers of meaning, showing how the conversations we share with those we love continue after them, and will continue after us.
Thank you, @spiegelandgrau, for the gifted books. I also purchased an audio copy of Other People’s Words from @librofm, which is beautifully narrated by the author. The audio version has a special interview at the end with guest appearances. 😍
I’m not sure I can do justice to Other People’s Words. Lissa Soep has penned a beautiful love letter to her dear friends, as well as a love letter about friendship. Its philosophical musings shaped by Mikhail Bakhtin add so much to the story. I would rewind them and listen to them several times over.
The book’s synopsis says: “What if the great love of your life is friendship?“ Lissa Soep and her husband form friendships in their twenties with two other couples. Years later, two of those friends pass away at different times, and this is a tribute to them and also an examination of how their memories live on in their words and stories - how language and love can live on together without end. It’s hard to describe exactly what I’m trying to say; much easier to viscerally feel.
Reading and listening to Other People’s Words was a remarkable experience: intimate, relatable, thoughtful and thought-provoking. So very grateful I read it and know it is one I will re-visit and also recommend often.
I won this book through Goodreads giveaways and I have never been happier to win a book. It was phenomenal and a gorgeous memoir about love and loss in different ways. Friends really are the best .
4.5: A book focused on friendship, grief, love, and heartbreak. Felt like this author was really just exploring relationships as things change and people get older and evolve.
I didn’t love all the comparisons to famous academics, but I loved the way the author wrote about the way we hold onto things, long after they’ve changed into something unrecognizable. I did love the way she wrote about our words and what they reflect. Sweet and heartbreaking book about the reality of change and getting older.
What a beautifully written book about friendship, love and loss. The structure of the book which had short “chapters” actually allowed me to fly through the book.
Lissa draws on her research and writing of Bahktin who dives deep into how we carry the language of those we loved and lost with us. This becomes intertwined with her loss of two close friends and allows her to understand her grief but also others.
The power of voicemail, email, texts really struck a chord with me. My father is very ill and I don’t think I have any recordings of his voice on my phone. I will eventually need to rely on VHS tapes to hear him. We don’t speak on the phone very often because his breathing is so labored due to pulmonary fibrosis that he finds it difficult to talk. I don’t even know if I have his handwriting as it’s difficult now to find the strength to write. I bought a card for my mom from him for their anniversary. He wanted me to write it out for him and I begged him to write whatever he could to her because I knew how much she’d love to see his handwriting and not mine. I was right, and now I understand even more after reading this book. The power of words is unimaginable sometimes, especially written down. I have screen shotted texts of him making me laugh or telling me he loves me and it’s brought me such joy that I will always get to look back on those conversations someday.
This all just really hit close to home for me and provided me some comfort in my feelings. It came at the right time for me personally as I prepare for the worst. Even before that dreadful time comes, I hope to carry the words of my father with me always and cherish them deeply as Lissa and her friends have done. #goodreadsgiveaway
this was also an audio book for me. between this and i cheerfully refuse i spent many a commute in my car with tears streaming down my face. [isn't it interesting how the car creates a bubble for this. i have lost count of how many people i've heard talk about crying in their car.] not the ugly desperate crying that happens upon the immediate hold that grief or anger can place on your body. but the slower, gentler, feeling seen kind of tears. the tears of - i acknowledge the world is sad. and that we all must walk thru some kind of sadness at different points in our life. it is universal. grief is the flip side of love and life doesn't bode well in the absence of love. and thank you for eloquently stating the things that i can't seem to say in such concise and beautiful language.
soep read this herself and so the emotions - the joy of her friendships. the being there for her friends. the descriptions are infused with knowing that i don't think another reader could embody.
this book is masterfully organized. flipping from past to present to more recent past to anecdotes about kaze no denwa [a wind telephone in japan where people can have one way conversations with lost loved ones] and bahktine and his circle of dissidents who philosophized over words and how they connect us. soep easily keeps moving forward describing the loss of her two close friends. their families. and bits and pieces of their own voices thru reading emails, poems, and voicemail transcripts. [the only thing i found slightly annoying was the insertion of sounds of typing, things sending or inbox alerts, or texting. didn't need those, but others might not be bothered]
i adore when someone can make academics approachable. when they have taken the time to distill complex ideas and can give us un-initiated a way into the scholarly. the whole book is a big circle. expanding out and occasionally contracting. the sea is prevalent. poetry is prevalent. family is prevalent. punctuation is prevalent. and *spoiler* in the end a new punctuation is created [one of the best assignments and closures i could have never seen coming].
Besides the emotional setting of the book, a parameter that kept me going was the writing style. The authors coaxes through the incidents of life, parallelly weaving in elements of great authors and their words. Following the life of 4 close friends and how they coped with the loss of one of their own leaving this world, followed by growing old as they became more alive in the author's words.
Here's something I encountered in the first half of the book that got me hooked: "The thing about a story is that you dream it as you tell it. Hoping, that others may then dream along with you And in this way, memory and imagination and language combine to make spirits in the head - that's often what it felt like" - Lissa Soep
Thanks for the Digital ARC @netgalley @spiegelandgrau @lissasoep Genre: #nonfiction #memoir
“Bakhtin had a metaphor for this. "I always sit on two chairs,” he scrawled in one of his notebooks. "I construct my image ... simultaneously from within myself and from the other's point of view." … The two views he refers to, from within and without, can coexist and take concrete shape through the words contained inside a single line of speech. So yes, of course, we speak our own words and project ourselves into them. But also, we can listen within those words for the echoes and accents of others, who shape our voices and allow us, even when we are quiet, in our separate seats, to be in dialogue with others and other versions of ourselves, in more than one place at a time.” - Lissa Soep
Thank you, Net Galley, for the chance to review this book. Right from the first paragraph, it felt like this reader was in a conversation with the writer. It was very relatable. The author's language was poetic and rather genius. I reread parts to dive into how this book about grief made me feel seen and heard. It came from such a deep wound that I found it rather healing. I will be getting this to gift to loved ones and keep a copy for myself to reference. On my travel bucket list is to find that telephone booth in Japan. I am hesitant to begin another read and want this one to linger longer.
“On the cusp of losing her, I imagined words to hold her here with us just a little bit longer, turning her sentences over in my mouth to express who she was, who we had been. We would need to carry her voice from here.”
What an intimate and scary, but surprisingly comforting, portrayal of grief. I never want to forget the people I love.
I received a digital ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Soep's book is her reflections upon grieving two close friends who passed a few years apart. She is extremely open and honest about her relationships, both with the friends themselves, as well as the other friends, family, and partners they left behind. Along with personal recollections, she weaves in the philosophies of a Russian author/scholar named Bakhtin. While I appreciated learning about how his philosophies on language comforted her in times of grief, I found some of the passages too long and/or too detailed, however, I have never been a great lover of philosophy. Still, this is a short book with interesting ideas that I think will serve many people.
A testimonial of how friendships wax and wane and the importance of words to people. I didn’t Pay much attention to the Russian philosopher Soep spent a lot of time discussing simply because that aspect didn’t interest me. What did stick out was her friend Emily’s folder of all the voice recordings of her husband Jonnie after his abrupt death. I found that to be the most poignant and saddest part of the book. Thanks to Spiegel and Grau for the early copy.
Between languages, there was a wordless territory where everything was still unnamed, and, therefore, nearly eternal. Meaning was all there was. ~ Ingrid Rojas Contreras, The Man Who Could Move Clouds.
Other People's Words is a beautifully written book that's thought-provoking, heartbreaking and also heartwarming.
== Soon, there was that feeling - nervous, gorgeous, and rare: the sense of choosing and being chosen. == If we could not write, would our tongues spell out sentences in each other's mouths? == Inside our words, we are never without companions. == "unfinalizability" - Mikhail Bakhtin's theory - Nothing conclusive has yet taken place in the world, the ultimate word of the world and about the world has not yet been spoken, the world is open and free, everything is still in the future and will always be in the future (Bakhtin, 1984, p. 166.). == Nothing is absolutely dead: every meaning will someday have its festival of rebirth. == The word in language is half someone else's. It becomes 'one's own' only when the speaker populates it with his own intention, his own accent. == I believe that the purpose of death is the release of love. == The thing about a story is that you dream it as you tell it, hoping that others might then dream along with you, and in this way memory and imagination and language combine to make spirits in the head. == You feel time in a different way when you know something is about to begin and when you sense it coming to an end. == "Some things, after all, wouldn't burn".
One evening last week, I found myself drawn into Mrs. Dalloway’s bookstore in Berkeley for a talk that would resonate deeply within me. Lissa Soep, the author of ‘Other People’s Words: Friendship, Loss, and the Conversations That Never End,’ was on the inaugural leg of her book tour.
Although I was initially unfamiliar with the author, I was captivated by Soep’s introductory remarks, compelling me to linger and delve deeper into her story.
As she shared poignant excerpts from her memoir, recounting her profound relationships with her departed friends Jonnie and Christine, I found myself transported into the rich tapestry of their shared experiences. Through Lissa’s beautiful prose, their voices echoed, forming an intricate mosaic of remembrance and connection.
Central to Lissa’s narrative was the influence of 20th-century Russian scholar Mikhail Bakhtin, whose philosophy illuminated the layers of dialogue embedded within our words. Through her reflection on Bakhtin’s teachings and her enduring bond with his ideas, Lissa revealed how language serves as a vessel for preserving the essence of cherished relationships. How so very relatable, indeed.
Like Lissa, I too have experienced the transformative power of literature, finding solace and kinship within the pages of my favorite authors. Her revelation of Bakhtin’s evolution from a revered philosopher to a guiding presence in her life resonated deeply with my own experiences of forging connections through literature. Borges epitomizes this notion. His words transport me to realms filled with infinite, intricate details, evoking a sense of time travel. Similarly, Cervantes's Don Quixote can spontaneously surface in my thoughts on any given day of the week!
In Lissa’s words that evening, I discovered a profound truth: that language is imbued with the essence of those we hold dear, a timeless reminder of their presence in our lives. Through her exploration of Bakhtin’s philosophy, she illuminated the infinite potential contained within our words, offering solace and reassurance in times of grief and loss. It reminded me that when I miss my mother and father most, their words are always deeply present in my life. And Borges, Cervantes, and so many other beloved authors help me understand just how deeply words are very much alive today. In the embrace of their literary creations, I find echoes of cherished memories and the comfort of enduring wisdom. Just as Lissa discovered solace in the words of Bakhtin, I too find refuge in the timeless dialogue shared between authors and readers, transcending the boundaries of time and space. Through their collective voices, I am reminded of the profound connection between past and present, weaving a tapestry of understanding and belonging that spans generations.
As I reflected on Lissa’s journey, now that I have finished her meaningful book, I realize that through her writing, she has introduced me to a legacy of love and friendship, left behind by Jonnie and Christine. In the shared embrace of their memories, I found comfort and inspiration, reaffirming the enduring power of human connection.
Lissa Soep’s book serves as a testament to the timeless bond between friendship and language, reminding us all of the profound impact that words can have on our lives. Through her heartfelt narrative, she invites us to embark on a journey of remembrance and reflection, guided by the unwavering presence of those we hold dear. I wholeheartedly recommend her book to everyone.
Other People's Words is a poignant journey through friendship, grief, and love through shared language. Words carry meaning we create together and Lissa Soep shows us how the words we say and write can carry forward beyond the moment, living in memories and documents beyond the finite life of the person who produced them. From moments of hearing the eco of a loved one in a phrase, to seeing the influence of a favorite poem on a friend's writing in a letter from years ago, to intentionally using gifted words from a therapist to get passed the emotion laden ones that carry hurt and pain in a relationship, this book goes through example after example of times words carried a lot more than a straightforward common meaning. I very much enjoyed this opportunity to reflect on how language is personal and carries shades of the network of minds near and far removed that have used it. I listened to the audiobook and I very much recommend it - I think it added something to listen to the author's words (and the words of her network) through her own voice. I particularly enjoyed the rhythm of hearing meaningful punctuation read aloud while discussing how the punctuation was carrying a lot of meaning in emails, giving the listener build in time to meditate on the meaning. Five stars! Bring tissues!
Thanks to the publisher for the ARC via NetGalley.
Wow, this book caught me completely by surprise. It’s hard to put into words exactly how this book impacted me. The relationships written about throughout the book are heartwarming and heart wrenching at the same time. Through writing about Bakhtin’s (who I hadn’t heard of before reading this book!) philosophy, Soep delves into other people’s words and the way they show up over and over again. This is something I had thought about in the past and am now looking forward to reading Bakhtin’s work and more by Soep in the future. I highly recommend this thoughtful and hopeful book!
This book destroyed me and put me back together piece by piece, gently and with care. The writing is exquisite and the intellectual framework for understanding how our loved ones never leave us - they live on in our words - is deeply researched. But I loved this book for its immense heart - love and comfort and hope bursting off each page. This book is for anyone who has lost someone but never stopped loving them.
This is a beautifully written memoir of the exploration of friendships, love, and grief. The author seems to celebrate life more than focus on grief, which I liked. This book has a very poetic tone to it.
An interesting book about how our loved ones influence our lives and how even after they are gone they are with us. A great vision of how we are all connected through the words and unspoken language we speak to one another every day. How words can be a memory of time passed. This book comforted me in my grief while mourning the loss of a loved one. A great insightful read with an interesting story.
A lovely little book, I cried at the end. To me, the most poignant moments were the ones outlining the deep love and small, sacred moments of a long close friendship, the sort of commentary that never seems to get enough attention. There are some beautiful passages I can see myself returning to during times of loss and grief and change.
I found the frequent references to Bakhtin a little forced - I hadn’t heard of him before this book, and now I’m intrigued, but we didn’t really need the conceit. The story was full without the theoretical interjections.
Highly recommend this beautiful book. I listened to the author narrated version on Spotify. It is a brilliant master work about friendship and loss and remembering.
Lissa, I hope you read this. I want to thank you for writing this. For using your words, and Bakhtin's, and M/C/J/C's, and whoever else's words washed ashore on these pages. As a linguist, nothing has brought me greater comfort in my grief than reading this book. And I know a hard day will come when I will recommend this to someone who Needs it, and hopefully, they will enjoy my company in the margins. 💖
This book took me a few attempts to get going. I'm not entirely sure what finally made it click but on the fourth attempt I finally made it past the first ten pages and was hooked. Soep reflects on the conversations, both verbal and written, she has had with friends who have passed as well as those they left behind. Intermingled with the vignette-style memories are snippets of conversational theory from the philosopher Bakhtin, which Soep uses to reframe past communications in order to imagine the voices of the dead to continue speaking.
The short chapters reminded me of little notes, as if Soep jotted down memories or ideas as they came to her and then built them out. The chapters are chronological but as it is a reflection on communication in the past there are many references to past conversations, letters etc. Revisiting past communications in such depth as a way of coping with grief was a new idea to me and one that I would like to explore further. This will be a tough read for anyone whose grief is still fairly new, but I would highly recommend it for anyone who is currently in the anticipatory grief stages or who has had some time to process the initial stages of grief and feels ready to explore their relationship to the person they have lost in a new way.
I have deducted one star only because it took me a few attempts to get started.
Thanks to Netgalley, and the publisher for the ARC.