It isn't quite 'Don't buy any green bananas'. But it's close to 'Don't start any long books'.
In his mid-40s, Simon Boas was diagnosed with incurable cancer - it had been caught too late, and spread around his body. But he was determined to die as he had learned to live - optimistically, thinking the best of people, and prioritising what really matters in life.
In A Beginner's Guide to Dying Simon considers and collates the things that have given him such a great sense of peace and contentment, and why dying at 46 really isn't so bad. And for that reason it's also only partly about 'dying'. It is mostly a hymn to the joy and preciousness of life, and why giving death a place can help all of us make even more of it.
Simon Boas was born in 1977 and spent his childhood in London and Winchester. He got the bug for Overseas Aid after delivering his first aid convoy to Bosnia (at 16) in 1993, and went on to spend his career working for development charities and the UN. He worked in Africa for many years, and lived in Vietnam, Egypt, Turkey, Nepal, India, and the Palestinian Territories, including three years running a UN office in the Gaza Strip. He spent his last eight years living in Jersey, running the Island’s Overseas Aid agency, accompanied by his beloved wife Aurelie and his scruffy French sheepdog, Pippin.
At 46 he was diagnosed with advanced throat cancer and had a year of living dyingly, during which he found himself as happy as he’d ever been. He wrote about this for his local paper, which went viral, and this encouraged him to try to expand on why hopping the twig at 46 really isn’t so bad. A Beginner’s Guide to Dying is the result.
2,5 Łatwo mówić o spełnionym życiu i spokojnym podejściu do śmierci, kiedy ma się pieniądze, bogate doświadczenie podróżnicze, satysfakcjonującą karierę i szczęśliwe życie rodzinne.
Niestety takie kombo to raczej wyjątek, a nie norma, więc ta książka w ogóle nie jest uniwersalna. A wątek psychodelików pozostawię bez komentarza.
I can appreciate that these are the words of a dying man. But the “Privilege” chapter specifically encourages readers to practice gratitude by “comparing downwards” to those living in poverty, abusive situations, or less fortunate countries and I simply can’t endorse this flavor of ableism and privilege. I tried to like this book. I really did. But this chapter specifically, combined with several other odd mentions of race, gender, and drug/alcohol usage really turned me off. Boas skims the surface of what a wild and magical experience it is to be alive but never dives deep, and I prefer my grief books to be both thought-provoking AND inclusive.
I listened to this over three days. It is read by the author who has since sadly died. What a loss he is. You don’t need to be close to death to read this book. You just need to be alive. It is wise, funny, emotional and just good.
Diagnosed with an incurable cancer, the author decided to write this book - he has since passed at the age of 46. I’ve no doubt it was difficult to write this book physically, mentally, and emotionally. I hope it gave him comfort and helped as he focused on this project as he approached the end of his life, which he seems to have done with grace and humor. As another reviewer mentioned and I wholeheartedly agree - I gained a ton more insight, information, and takeaways from When Breath Becomes Air By Paul Kalanithi than this book. I felt this book was more for the author himself and his personal reflections rather than for me, the reader. I liked the book blurb a whole lot more than the book. 2.5 stars rounded up to 3 stars. Many thanks to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review this book.
I hadn’t heard of the author but picked this up from the Bestseller display in my library. It’s a posthumous collection of writings, starting with a few articles Boas wrote for his local newspaper, the Jersey Evening Post, about his experience of terminal illness. Diagnosed late on with incurable throat cancer, Boas spent his last year smoking and drinking Muscadet. Looking back at the privilege and joys of his life, he knew he couldn’t complain too much about dying at 46. He had worked in charitable relief in wartorn regions, finishing his career as director of Jersey Overseas Aid. The articles are particularly witty. After learning his cancer had metastasized to his lungs, he wrote, “The prognosis is not quite ‘Don’t buy any green bananas’, but it’s pretty close to ‘Don’t start any long books’.” While I admired the perspective and equanimity of the other essays, most of their topics were overly familiar for me (gratitude, meditation, therapy, what (not) to do/say to the dying). His openness to religion and use of psychedelics were a bit more interesting. It’s hard to write anything original about dying, and his determined optimism – to the extent of downplaying the environmental crisis – grated.
it’s interesting how certain books find us at just the right time. i picked this one up without knowing much about-as is my habit. just drawn in by the title.
and I’m so glad I did. dealing with the loss of two close relatives in a single month made me reflect deeply on life, something we should all do more often.
this book has resonated with me at the highest level. it reinforced the truths we already know but often forget in the rush of our daily lives. it's powerful reminder to pause, step back, and reflect—not just occasionally but as a way of living.
I loved this book despite the sadness of the topic. It made me laugh out loud a number of times and made me wish that I had known the author. It has also made me rethink my priorities and hopefully have no regrets when it’s my time. I would thoroughly recommend this book to everyone.
Mimo kilku krotnego czytania opisu, tej książki przed jej rozpoczęciem, gdy ją zaczęłam nie do końca wiedziałam czego mogę się spodziewać. Okazał się to być memoir mężczyzny umierającego na raka. Taką książkę trudno jest oceniać, bo to zbiór osobistych zapisków i artykułów, które poświęcił odchodzeniu z tego świata. Choć czasami doświadczenie śmierci dzielimy z innymi, w rzeczywistości jest to najbardziej prywatny moment ludzkiego życia. To, że na kartach powieści, jesteśmy jej świadkami może nas zbliżyć do autora, ale nigdy nie będziemy mogli powiedzieć, że rozumiemy co wtedy czuł. To emocje, które przeżywa się tylko raz w życiu i każdy będzie musiał zaczekać na swoją kolej. Autor pisze o procesie umierania jako o granicznym przeżyciu i chyba nie ma bardziej trafnego sformułowania by określić ten stan. Odchodząc opowiada o swoim życiu, stoicyźmie i reakcjach otoczenia, daje też wskazówki tym, którzy towarzyszą osobą umierającym. Gdybym miała podsumować moje rozważania to powiedziałabym, że jest to książka dla dość waskiego grona odbiorców mimo podejmowania uniwersalnego tematu umierania. Moje uczucia co do jej treści pozostają mieszane i być może upływ czasu pomoże mi je nieco uporządkować.
I had the great fortune of becoming friends with Simon, my first memories of him swathed in the smoky air of Ziryab, a bar and restaurant in downtown Ramallah, back in 2005. Simon was a luminous presence: charismatic, fiercely intelligent, endlessly kind, and uproariously funny. His adventures were the stuff of legend, as was his knack for lightening any moment with an irreverent quip. That wit, combined with his deep humanity, shines through A Beginner’s Guide to Dying, a book as much about living boldly as it is about facing the end.
Simon writes with the clarity of someone unburdened by pretense, whether reflecting on faith and friendship or vanity-publishing a poem titled Cyclists Are Cunts. His vignettes are raw and beautiful, stitched together by humour that cuts through the dark and a love that humbles the soul. From the proposed original title, Cheer Up, You Buggers, to the heart-stopping beauty of his meditations on friendship and loss, Simon’s voice rings out with clarity and warmth. This extraordinary work, born from the shadow of death, is a gift to the living. I’ll carry his words, and the memory of his laughter, with me always.
I’m not apt to giving a star rating to a man’s dying word, but I will still write my thoughts nonetheless. Boas repeated himself a lot in this text and part of me wonders if, really, it’s all that simple. Rather than giving us a guide to dying, it was a reflection on how one should live in the face of death as it’s inevitable and all-defining. His advice is curt and earnest. Some of the wisdom he shared in here was insightful, too.
I’ve seen criticisms on points he makes here (i.e. comparing “downward” or forgiveness) yet I think it’s more nuanced than people think. It’s important to recognize that Boas touched some of the darkest moments and spaces in the world during his life. To compare “downward” I believe he means that it’s fruitless for us, in a privileged western world, to fret over our first world problems. He states that even in distraught regions of the world, the people were still exuding happiness and connectivity with their community. Yet not us here in the west, in a world of overindulgence and comfort.
Thank you Boas, for your brief reflection and insight.
Philosophical, reaffirming and surprisingly uplifting. In particular I think it gives really good advice on how to help people close to us who are dying e.g. always check in, but don’t expect a response, offer to help with specific things rather than generic. I really like Boas’s conversational and humble (to the point of self-depreciation) style, despite clearly being an important actor in humanitarian aid work. I am not sure still about his advice on magic mushrooms! But I think his honesty and bravery in writing this book on his deathbed is highly admirable. I just wish he was alive to write more.
Essentially a guide to living, with some advice on dealing with the death/dying of another. A positive outlook on the privilege of life. “Dwell on the quality, not the quantity”
This book defies review as the author's journal towards his own death is both a personal account and a personal response for the reader. Simon Boas’s delivers a warm and generous exploration of one of life’s most difficult topics: our inevitable mortality. He reflects on his own journey with cancer, offering readers a candid and often humorous take on death and how to approach it. This short book is divided into two parts: the first features three articles Boas wrote for a local newspaper, while the second half contains his musings and an early death and his relationship with life.
The tone is real and heartfelt, full of wonderful quotes that serve as way markers for readers to reflect on in their own lives. Boas approaches the heaviness of the subject with what can only be a natural ebullience and humour and an approachable style, making this readable book accessible and engaging. While it is occasionally repetitive and rambling, these moments feel justified given the circumstances of Boas’s own declining health and subsequent death. Overall, it’s a touching, honest, and valuable read that will stay with you long after you’ve finished it.
Great short read with many applications not just for those with terminal illness but also those dealing with major life events (including death, illnesses, trauma, etc). I loved his insights that people are inherently good - and find the best way to do the right thing and show up for one another.
Do połowy było bardzo dobrze, każda "depesza" bardzo mnie wzruszała. Druga połowa to jednak trochę takie chełpienie się autora tym, co osiągnął, bo i po co umieszczać ciekawostki na temat siebie, swój życiorys czy mowę pogrzebową? Nie do końca jest to związane z tematem. Trzeba również pamiętać, że autor dosłownie zachęca do brania psychodelików...Nie jestem ekspertem w tej dziedzinie, ale to trochę tak, jak kiedyś lekarze wmawiali nam, że lampka wina wieczorem dobrze robi na sen. Niestety, każda ilość alkoholu jest szkodliwa, tak jak każda ilość takich substancji może prowadzić do uzależnień i zaburzeń psychicznych. Kontrowersyjnie, nie powiem. Mimo wszystko z wieloma słowami się zgadzam, a Simon Boas był barwną duszą i mam nadzieję, że jest teraz w lepszym miejscu.
pierwsza polowa jest bardzo sentymentalna, przypomina o ulotnosci zycia, a zarazem zostawia nas z mysla, ze wszystko bedzie dobrze. natomiast watek z psychodelikami HALO „zalecam kazdemu choc raz w zyciu sprobowanie psylocybiny” HUH? nie ma czegos takiego jak bezpieczne spozywanie narkotykow. rozumiem chec zmiejszenia swojego cierpienia za pomoca opiatow w przypadkach terminalnych, natomiast zachecanie innych do sprobowania jednych z najmniej przebadanych substancji opierajac sie na fragmentach wybranej przez siebie ksiazki nie powinno miec miejsca.
Bardzo mi się podobało. Autor zwięźle, ale jakże pięknie opowiadał o swoim życiu z nieuleczalną chorobą oraz o swoim podejściu do nadchodzącej śmierci. Widać, że był to bardzo inteligentny człowiek, a takich zawsze warto posłuchać.
Beautiful - a great read for those considering mortality through to those taking their life a bit too seriously… would perhaps make a good gift for many
Przez pierwsze 20/30% książki jest to w zasadzie wałkowanie wstepu i opowiadanie o tym co ta książka ma dać. Dosyć dziwny zabieg biorąc pod uwagę że lektura ma nieduża objętość, więc na faktyczną treść zostaje niedużo miejsca. Natomiast zagłębiając się w dalsze rozdziały zrozumiałam że tej treści jak nie było tak i nie ma.
Niestety w ogóle ta książka w ogóle do mnie nie przemówiła. Sypanie banałami, z pozycji uprzywilejowanego bogatego mężczyzny. Na niektórych rozdziałach aż przewracałam oczami bo zdania brzmiały jak wyciągnięte ze stron typu cytaty.pl. Dziwnie to się pisze bo temat jest ciężki, a choroba autora to sytuacja jakkolwiek by nie patrzeć niesprawiedliwa i bardzo smutna, ta książka to w zasadzie zbiór personalnych ciekawostek o autorze, sytuacji z życia, coś co bardziej przypomina złote myśli niż jakiekolwiek rozważania czy refleksje.
A joyous celebration of life, love, and friendship. Simon teaches us that all we have is the present moment, that death is only a small part of a life well-lived, and that we will all enjoy life a little more if we take a moment to marvel at the sheer incalculable impossibility of our own existence, and the joyous moments we get to experience as a consequence.
A beginners guide to dying is brief and beautiful, with the intensity, honesty, optimism and clarity of one who knows death but is not afraid of it. I paused only once to put it down once (in response to a gentle nudge from my cat for attention and connection) - heeding Simon’s wise words to be present in every moment. Read this if you want to be reminded not of death, but of the beauty of life.
"It gives me a great sense of peace to think about how the world will continue after I'm gone. Children will want ice creams and people will fall head-over-heels in love and musicians will delight us and comedians will poke fun and people will tend their gardens and collect geeky things. If you can, ignore politics, consume much less news and try to stay away from social media. They all miss the big picture.....carpe that diem and keep it carped." - Simon Boas
I'll go back and read this time and time again. As someone living with cancer, the war with which will end my life in a handful of years, I found this book absolutely inspiring. Re-read various parts again and again. It's written with humour about life and death and it's really helped me articulate my thoughts in my own head and to be more confident about what's to come.
My personal book of the year.
I'd recommend it to other like me, but also to perfectly healthy people as it gives perspective to a fate that every one of us eventually face.
I absolutely loved this book. The raw (and funny) authenticity is palpable. What a gift. I just so happened to be sitting vigil with a friend while her mother was dying at home in the care of hospice, so it was especially poignant for me personally, but I think I would have loved it no matter my circumstances. It is a treatise on how to live, as much as it is a guide to dying. I'm so grateful to the publisher for making this project possible and for allowing me to read/review. I'm sure it will find its way into the hearts of many.
Written by Simon, who was dying at the time, this is an accessible book about something we all face.
It's a very easy read, upbeat. I got a lot out of it, will face my time with less trepidation (a long time away, I hope!). A unique perspective too on what matters in life. Finally there are lots of practical tips on how to handle the journey emotionally, valuable for the dying as well as those facing the imminent loss of someone they care about.