Plato famously defined a human being as a “featherless biped.” It’s hard not to sense the ironic humor in this definition, a reminder that, for all our talk about human dignity, our condition is contingent, vulnerable, and at some level even comic.
Perhaps that’s why the writer A.G. Mojtabai—known for her dry, understated, subtly humorous but ultimately honest and courageous depictions of the human condition—chose the name for her latest novel, set in the confines of Shady Rest Home for the Aged.
Mojtabai offers us a varied cast of characters at Shady Rest, Eli, who fancies himself a ladies man; Elora, anxious about her wayward nephew; the aloof but lonely scholar Wiktor; and Maddie, a bit eccentric, true, but more wise and compassionate than most. At the center of it all is Daniel, an old soul in a young man’s body, with a strange gift for caring for the elderly.
Featherless is one of those rare books that brings us news from the final frontier, the end of life. Its unflinching but humane gaze—informed by the author’s own experience—serves as a fitting capstone for a literary career of uncommon distinction.
A perfect story about the final days of an elderly friend-circle at Shady Rest Home for the Aged.
By "perfect" I mean the book (more of a novella) is superbly proportional, self-contained, and concise, especially given its mere 134 pages. Still, Mojtabai manages to probe an array of keen questions regarding the end of life and life meanwhile:
What is it like to grow (very) old? Is it worth it? What do we owe the aged? Do we ever stop desiring? Why keep a promise to a dead person? How do memory and language shape personhood? What constitutes good work?
"Featherless" offers no feigned answers or emotions, no sentimentalism; I found the story equally touching and tragic, profound and commonplace. Above all, I was fascinated by Mojtabai's development of Daniel, a young man--and orphan--charged with caring for the residents at Shady Rest.
Highly recommended.
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A few passages I underlined:
"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride" (28).
"Their faces moved with the sun like sunflowers, yet even when shining in full sunlight, they remained invisible to those passing" (41).
"But even when speech remained, words failed to bridge the distance at the end" (45).
"Forgetting can also be an unburdening" (50).
"Maddie reached the handle of the walker she could not see but knew was there, standing by the side of her bed. The cane no longer sufficient, she had been told that she must think of the walker as her friend" (128).