“Offering a deeply necessary, clear-eyed look at who we are as flesh-and-bone bodies during the climate crisis, this is a book that searches and finds meaning in both the hard truths and the value of wonder.”—Ada Limón
In this luminous collection of essays, Ellen Wayland-Smith probes the raw edges of human existence, those periods of life in which our bodies remind us of our transience and the boundaries of the self dissolve. For it is in such liminal states—losing a parent, giving birth, experiencing a nervous breakdown, coping with breast cancer—that we, too, are part of “the cosmic molecular arc that binds all life.”
From the Old Testament to Maggie Nelson, these explorations are grounded in a rich network of associations. In an essay on the postpartum body, Wayland-Smith interweaves her experience as a mother with accounts of phantom limbs and Greek mythology to meditate on moments when pieces of our being exist outside our bodies. In order to comprehend diagnoses of depression and breast cancer, she delves into LA hippie culture’s love affair with crystals and Emily Dickinson’s geological poetry. Her experience with chemotherapy leads to reflection on Western medicine and its intolerance of death and the healing capacity of nature. And throughout, she challenges the false separation between the human and the “primeval, animal mode of being.”
At once intimate and expansive, The Science of Last Things peels back layers of human thought and behavior, breaking down our modern conceptions of individuality and reframing us as participants in a world of astounding elegance and mystery.
this book has haunted me ever since I finished. it has become my ghost, appearing at every corner you turn. i love a well written essay collection (where each essay has its own character but the collection as a whole feels coherent), and this was exactly that. i cannot begin to explain the feelings i felt when reading this. each sentence flowed so smoothly into the next and everything felt like it was falling into place, but it left me with this dull ache in my chest that coalesced into an insurmountable boulder of emotion at the end.
the essays are an amalgamation of deeply personal ones and many interesting historical, scientific, cultural, and literary anecdotes and tangents. through it all, she never leaves out the heart and emotions of things, which celebrates human connection and our ties to this world.
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so far, this has everything i love in literature: essay collections. effortless, brilliant writing. new things to learn about. the feeling where you can tell the author put her whole heart into it, and it echoes in yours as well.
Wonderfully written and easily relatable book on our human connection with our Earth. I was reassured that everything will be fine if you are a rock. Seriously, though, a great book.
Obsessed with the first few essays, but the last couple kind of lost me. I love this style of writing, but some of it came off very Joan Didion-esque, in the way of like ooo I’m so sad but here I am at my mansion on the shore (it’s rented tho!) and gosh I’m so sad but here I am traveling around the world to beautiful islands constantly! Sigh!!
I loved reading this collection of essays. Ellen Wayland-Smith writes on a vast variety of topics and experiences, never shying away from being vulnerable or expressing her true thoughts. She maintains a very lyric style, using beautiful language to truly tell the reader what she is thinking and feeling. Much of her writing elicits a visceral reaction in the reader and has us think deeply about difficult subjects, such as life and death and the nature of religion and spirituality. Ellen incorporates science, medicine, religion, and history into her works, adding another layer of depth to each subject. I felt like I came away from each essay having learned something new. While all of these essays are considered personal essays, they all contained elements of ruminative and lyric essays, which I thought was an engaging stylistic choice. I never once felt bored while reading. Some of her essays talk about her experiences with cancer. It was refreshing to see that the point of these essays was not to garner sympathy from the reader, but to help the reader feel less alone and more understood, cancer or not. Perhaps my only critique is that some of her essays near the end were more difficult to understand (at least for me). I was having trouble reading in between the lines when not enough context was provided or the connections just didn't seem to fit in my own mind. Other than that, this is a fantastic collection of essays and truly an example of masterful writing.
tries to do a maggie nelson thing by associating facts from all over the map to paint a sort of affective picture, but i got the sense that some (too much) of the connective tissue got chipped away during the editing process. that said there was some gorgeous funky poetic prose throughout, and real wisdom, and i underlined about one sentence per essay to quote in future dvars.
unfortunately (or perhaps not) i committed a cardinal sin and judged a book by the cover, lured by the motley of trinkets on display. i’m not a huge fan of personal essays—i always feel like i’m reading a diary meant for someone else’s eyes, “the outsider of an inside joke”—and it was clear from the first three pages that this was going to be very personal. despite that, i was impressed by her takes on pregnancy and grief and memory, and how she supplemented this with analysis of, well, other “last things”: phantom limbs, religious rites, butterfly migrations, cleansing crystals.
i’m not at the stage where i can resonate with basically any of her key events, so i feel an innate sense of wrongness trying to assess the book and her experiences. her writing style reminds me of Cold Enough for Snow (Jessica Au), flowery and poetic and a bit disconnected from the subject matter in my opinion. but, once again, what do i know?
3.5/5. in a few years i might have a different outlook and i could reread this and maybe start sobbing. or i might find the takes horrendous and rose-tinted. most likely what will happen is i’ll forget about it for a while and then one night the full weight of one of her essays will come crashing down on me. for now i shall live in blissful ignorance and pay the price in the future.
The writing is lovely. The description of what holds cancer drugs as a metal tree with a swollen IV bag as fruit was so good. I enjoyed the random facts throughout, like thinking about how all our words related to worry are about eating, like gnawing, consuming. A great passage about how children see and fear old people. The word larval was used haha weird and effective
Really brilliant, just possibly a bit too broadly brilliant for my pea brain. Ellen Wayland-Smith makes you chase a lot of connections, which I did to varying degrees of success.
This book was a pleasure to read that had me turning the page continuously. Her weaving of personal stories with scientific research was beautiful. I thought it so interesting as she spoke of her struggles with mental health and cancer but through a perspective that was unique and raw. She does an excellent job of interweaving classic poets such as Emily Dickinson, and many others through her work creating a rich narrative. She also pulled in many stories and thoughts from Christianity and the Bible, which were very thought provoking in nature, and intermingled them with science. It made me reflect on my own beliefs in God, as well as the nature of science and the role it plays in our world today. She has a strong voice with an expertise in creating imagery that grounds the reader into the scene. The stories and research she presents are a lense through which to see the bigger picture, with themes of family, relationships, and nature. She does a really good job building upon the stories and facts that are braided within the essays, coming full circle or to often tender conclusions on the nature of life. The dive into the natural world was sometimes nostalgic for me to read and made me reflect on my own childhood memories and other experiences with nature, religion, mental health, and family. She weaved tender feelings about human’s relationship with nature as well as with each other through beautiful imagery. Her perspective as a mother, and daughter as she dealt with her own grief in her writing allowed for the reader to ponder this theme themselves. All in all, a great read.
I wasn't sure about it at first, both because there needed to be some more editing (some typos, including at least one that really confused the sentence) and I had different expectations for the type of book this is based on the title.
Science is mentioned here, but this is a not a science book. It's more similar to the books of short stories my wife and I have been reading lately, exploring aspects of the human condition - but in this case, through a bit of a secular worldview. Religion does make many appearances and has many references, but this author is viewing her life and perception of time in a way more informed by literature and scientific understanding.
There's a little bit of everything here; poetry, geology, physics, etymology, history of medicine. The book is made up of relatively short essays based on specific life experiences or thoughts. I particularly enjoyed and related to the last chapter about memory, but exploring the sense of self through her experience with childbirth was fascinating, as were her discussions and perspectives on how she dealt with cancer.
On a less important note, I used to hate this writing style but this time I really enjoyed it. It's a bit flowery and almost dense, but I do think it added to the experience.
When you’re at the beach and you dig your feet into the sand and allow the tiny fraction of vast ocean bury you slightly and slightly deeper. It’s grounding, it’s why people go to the beach, to feel small and earthly and physically alive. That’s what this book felt like: a meditation that gets soil under your finger nails and salt in your hair.
Short, unbelabored essays. Exploratory and not prescriptive. Rarely did I find her metaphors cliché and often I found myself scratching my head at their cleverness. Pythagoras’ monads and dyads to the experience of giving birth and phantom limb pain. Metabolism and catholic transubstantiation. Caterpillars and depersonalization disorder. The witches in Macbeth and the chemo chair. Where does the self stop and the world begin? You might think it’s where your toes meet the water, but Wayland-Smith asks you to reconsider.
“The mystery of the self, then, is that every atom of our being is on loan from the universe, at every instant, from time immemorial.”
In her breathtaking book, Ellen Wayland-Smith contemplates both beginnings and endings. Her gorgeously descriptive essays are filled with grace, beauty and wonder as well as the blunt reality that the eventual ending is in sight, not only for all of nature’s creatures, but also all of us and the planet itself.
Whether facing cancer or global warming, all things must end. As Wayland-Smith bravely looks her own cancer in the eye, we find her courageousness comforting, as we too may someday face such a diagnosis. The inevitability of death makes living all the more intoxicating.
A wonderful read, filled with history of the constellations, geography, medicine and the human condition.
The reason for my low star rating is because I was very confused by the author’s relationship to faith. She says at the beginning of the essay collection that she is not a person of faith. But then she continually draws on spiritual references throughout the book. I grew increasingly frustrated and finally gave up towards the second half of the book.
I didn’t understand the connection of the title and the full collection of essays. And I thought the cover seemed so promising. Overall, I was disappointed in this book.
was reading this exact book sat down by the estuary when a group of 10 year old boys on bmx bikes bmx biked up in front of me and then one pointed at me and went "hahah thats ur mate" and then they all laughed and bmx biked away whilst laughing. a low. such a low. god. it stang in a deep way. like the first time you use original source mint body wash - a deep sting and a gasp. shock then the aftermath.
a really beautiful book though. some gorgeous quotes. lots of journalling lots of reflection.
🌟3.75🌟 gorgeous collection of essays ruminating on everything I think -- life, death, memory, loss. By far my favourite was Object Permanence, I was trying really hard not to cry at a public function. I also really enjoyed the first five essays. I started to slip off toward the end, particularly after the crystal essay, Quartz Contentment, but Object Permanence got me back just in time for the ending. I love writing like this because it feels like reading somebody's diary a little bit.
A beautiful book. I don’t know how to put it into words. It touched me with its beauty but it also left me feeling a little unsettled. Her words are achingly beautiful, the way she speaks of motherhood, cancer and death. It moved me beyond what I can articulate and made me question many aspects of what I thought ‘The End’ might be. This book will challenge you, frighten you, soothe you, and touch you. But most of all, it’s a book that will change you.
A powerful book, written with powerful language. There is self-exploration, insight into one's existence in the world (not just physically, but also metaphysically), and a sort of muted hope that there is more to our existence than just the here and now.
I did skip over a section where I found myself feeling too vulnerable, but otherwise I enjoyed it.
3 1/2 stars. I'm not really interested in these types of philosophical, profound essays but I can recognize that they were beautifully written. They kind of went over my head. A more thoughtful reader would probably enjoy them more, they just weren't what I was looking for at this point in my reading life.
These essays on time, illness and nature were lilting in their prose but at times disjointed. I really enjoyed the exploration of the interconnectedness consistent among groups - whether they be humans, animals, stones, constellations or terminal diseases. We are tethered to the people and things around us in ways that cannot be easily severed.
A breathlessly beautiful series of essays ruminating on our personal and collective entanglement to the four-billion-year-old "cosmic elemental broth." I have a feeling this is one of the rare books I will return to again and again. "Form doesn't have to be eternal. The simple fact that matter accommodated this beloved form passing through ("for a time") is the joy and the wonder."
beautiful little collection of essays from an incredibly gentle voice who brings us along her musings on her father's death, her cancer discovery and treatment, early religious experiences, literature, geology, and crystals...
Honestly a lot of the essays went right over my head. To be fair I read this book before bed mainly so my brain wasn’t fully functioning. The essays I did understand I really liked 😂 I think if I read this book again in like a year or two I’ll like it more
This collection of personal essays about loss, family, and self is so poetic, wise, and ruminative. It really is a balm for our times, and the sentences are worth lingering over. A beautiful book from front cover to last page.
Gorgeous, intelligent writing and beautiful passages that put our little lives into perspective. I love writing that pairs personal introspection with historical and scientific connections, and this book did exactly that.