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Rise Above: A Memoir
An unforgettable memoir of fatherhood, grief, and the life-saving power of love and art in the wake of unimaginable loss
Renzo Rollins Schnipper was born in February 2020, a split second before the beginning of the pandemic. To his parents, he was the reason for the universe’s existence at a time when there was little hope to be found in the world. Then, on Christmas Eve 2021, a rare medical event suddenly took Renzo from them. Rise Above begins with an account of Renzo’s short, but blazingly full, life from his father’s perspective. Even as it is an account of grief, Matthew Schnipper’s memoir is about resilience in the face of the unexpected turns life takes, and how to chart a path forward.
Schnipper chronicles the tragic, frustrating, and sometimes dumb ways that grief manifests, and how he tried to rise above the friendships, text messages, carbs, a trip to Miami, phone calls with a rabbi, selling vintage clothing—and, perhaps most indelibly, his ever-changing relationship to music, his lifelong passion.
Rise Above follows this journey—from the shock and freefall following his son’s death, to the desperate struggle to remember and honor Renzo’s life. Schnipper’s candid prose and clear-eyed storytelling tackles the darkest, most unfathomable elements of living, but also the miracle of love and the shimmering moments that ultimately give life meaning.
Renzo Rollins Schnipper was born in February 2020, a split second before the beginning of the pandemic. To his parents, he was the reason for the universe’s existence at a time when there was little hope to be found in the world. Then, on Christmas Eve 2021, a rare medical event suddenly took Renzo from them. Rise Above begins with an account of Renzo’s short, but blazingly full, life from his father’s perspective. Even as it is an account of grief, Matthew Schnipper’s memoir is about resilience in the face of the unexpected turns life takes, and how to chart a path forward.
Schnipper chronicles the tragic, frustrating, and sometimes dumb ways that grief manifests, and how he tried to rise above the friendships, text messages, carbs, a trip to Miami, phone calls with a rabbi, selling vintage clothing—and, perhaps most indelibly, his ever-changing relationship to music, his lifelong passion.
Rise Above follows this journey—from the shock and freefall following his son’s death, to the desperate struggle to remember and honor Renzo’s life. Schnipper’s candid prose and clear-eyed storytelling tackles the darkest, most unfathomable elements of living, but also the miracle of love and the shimmering moments that ultimately give life meaning.
214 pages, Kindle Edition
Published July 21, 2026
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Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews
July 24, 2026
Had tears in my eyes for 50% of this book. Really moving, honest, generous, devastating. Grief as an activity will stay w me.
Side note…. Getting this book after hearing his episode was the first time How Long Gone has put me on a spiritually useful path.
Side note…. Getting this book after hearing his episode was the first time How Long Gone has put me on a spiritually useful path.
July 28, 2026
This book is so raw and beautiful. It is such an honest, authentic, and vulnerable response to grief. Grief can be so lonely and alienating – Rise Above is a gift of solace and understanding of the experience of sudden loss.
August 4, 2026
Incredible writing and story telling!
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
In this memoir, New York-based author Matthew shares his heartbreaking story of grief and acceptance after his 22-month-old son, Renzo, dies unexpectedly on Christmas Eve. The story begins with the full-force world into which Renzo entered in the months before the COVID pandemic was declared and the life-changing transition from a family of two to three. At once mundane and magical, moments of park visits, neighborhood strolls, and the long nights that define early childhood and parenthood build the beauty of this tiny life that would end too soon.
Then, one night, a silent medical event screeches Renzo's young life to an end. Everything changes, and yet everything goes on. Beneath the surface of grief, the author chronicles all the ways it shows up: moments of anger, fits of frustration, boiling resentment, unexpected connections, desperate reach-outs, and the crawling reality that time marches forward. With the exception of a few climactic moments in which grief and sadness overtake the author, the experience of grief is often simultaneously dull and bewildering in its ever-present persistence. It colors everything. And yet everything moves on just as it once had. In one of the memoir's most memorable scenes, the author describes the tragedy of marking what would have been his son's second birthday: how much he dreads it and fears its force, and then how painfully, yet ironically, uneventful it turns out to be.
This is a story no parent should have to endure, and yet I'm grateful the author shared his own story, his search for unspoken understanding from others, and his connection with those facing similarly unspeakable circumstances—a core theme of his grief journey. That this story exists as an access point to serve others grieving the loss of their children is a gift and a service.
At the same time, I found the memoir less effective as a work of narrative than I had hoped. There were significant gaps in the author's reflection and telling of events that made it harder to engage with as a reader, as though important parts of the story remained just out of reach. For example, the author intentionally shares very little about his spouse and her story. He explains that this was done out of concern for her privacy and because this was his story, not hers. This is a pragmatic choice, but in practice it means the memoir offers very few stories or experiences about their collective grief or how they navigated their relationship in the aftermath of their son's death. Several months later, they are pregnant again, and yet this major development receives only passing mention—that she was ready before he was. The reader has little sense of the conversations or emotional complexity surrounding this significant decision, how the pregnancy progressed, or, even by the end of the memoir, what their daughter's birth meant within the context of their grief.
For me, this was a significant omission. Grief can often be isolating, even among those we love, and perhaps especially among those who share the same loss, such as two spouses who have lost a child. I found it difficult to believe that their relationship was not fundamental, in both promising and challenging ways, as they moved forward after their son's death. As a result, this absence created a significant barrier for me as a reader. While I respect the author's decision to protect his spouse's privacy, I couldn't help feeling that some of the memoir's most emotionally revealing moments remained beyond the page, leaving the story feeling less complete than it might otherwise have been.
Even so, I admire the generosity it took to share such an intimate loss, and I hope this memoir provides comfort and companionship to readers navigating a similar grief, even if it ultimately left me wanting a fuller account.
Thank you #NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Then, one night, a silent medical event screeches Renzo's young life to an end. Everything changes, and yet everything goes on. Beneath the surface of grief, the author chronicles all the ways it shows up: moments of anger, fits of frustration, boiling resentment, unexpected connections, desperate reach-outs, and the crawling reality that time marches forward. With the exception of a few climactic moments in which grief and sadness overtake the author, the experience of grief is often simultaneously dull and bewildering in its ever-present persistence. It colors everything. And yet everything moves on just as it once had. In one of the memoir's most memorable scenes, the author describes the tragedy of marking what would have been his son's second birthday: how much he dreads it and fears its force, and then how painfully, yet ironically, uneventful it turns out to be.
This is a story no parent should have to endure, and yet I'm grateful the author shared his own story, his search for unspoken understanding from others, and his connection with those facing similarly unspeakable circumstances—a core theme of his grief journey. That this story exists as an access point to serve others grieving the loss of their children is a gift and a service.
At the same time, I found the memoir less effective as a work of narrative than I had hoped. There were significant gaps in the author's reflection and telling of events that made it harder to engage with as a reader, as though important parts of the story remained just out of reach. For example, the author intentionally shares very little about his spouse and her story. He explains that this was done out of concern for her privacy and because this was his story, not hers. This is a pragmatic choice, but in practice it means the memoir offers very few stories or experiences about their collective grief or how they navigated their relationship in the aftermath of their son's death. Several months later, they are pregnant again, and yet this major development receives only passing mention—that she was ready before he was. The reader has little sense of the conversations or emotional complexity surrounding this significant decision, how the pregnancy progressed, or, even by the end of the memoir, what their daughter's birth meant within the context of their grief.
For me, this was a significant omission. Grief can often be isolating, even among those we love, and perhaps especially among those who share the same loss, such as two spouses who have lost a child. I found it difficult to believe that their relationship was not fundamental, in both promising and challenging ways, as they moved forward after their son's death. As a result, this absence created a significant barrier for me as a reader. While I respect the author's decision to protect his spouse's privacy, I couldn't help feeling that some of the memoir's most emotionally revealing moments remained beyond the page, leaving the story feeling less complete than it might otherwise have been.
Even so, I admire the generosity it took to share such an intimate loss, and I hope this memoir provides comfort and companionship to readers navigating a similar grief, even if it ultimately left me wanting a fuller account.
Thank you #NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Rise Above is a memoir about the time that followed the sudden death of the author's toddler son. So heartbreaking and so honest, and so accessible, which doesn't make any sense, because if you the reader haven't lost a child as well, then what exactly does that mean? By "accessible" I mean to say the way in which the author deals, or fails to deal, with his grief is relayed in a way that you can actually imagine it. Not necessarily the death of your firstborn child part, but the grief part, and how his response alienated people as much as it drew people together. Schnipper is very clear about his rage, his attempts to distract himself (with music, among other things), about how alone he often felt (even in a room full of people), and how he had absolutely no idea how to navigate the grief landscape. How it was often a day-by-day, one step forward, two steps back, type of thing. I especially appreciated that this was his story to tell, and that he didn't attempt to speak for anyone else, including his wife. There was one part ( I am paraphrasing here) where he explained how he initially resisted the idea of remembering his son with love rather than grief. Grief, in those early days, felt like the best way to keep his son's memory close to him at all times. If he was grieving, then his son was there with him. But when he was being encouraged to let some of the grief go, he felt that would be like letting his son go, and he wasn't willing to do that at that time. It became "easier" at some point, and by easier, I don't mean that the grief became less. But that the author learned, over time, what really seemed to help to get him through each day, and which things only served to make situations worse. In a sense, rather than navigating grief, he learned to navigate himself, and that seemed to be the better approach. A sad book, a hopeful book. A book that I wish the author would never have had to write in the first place. ** Thank you to NetGalley for sending this ARC to my inbox. All opinions are my own.
July 26, 2026
Rise Above is a profoundly moving and beautifully written memoir that explores the unimaginable realities of loss while illuminating the enduring power of love, memory, and resilience. Matthew Schnipper writes with remarkable honesty and emotional clarity, creating a deeply personal narrative that speaks to the universal human experience of grief and the difficult work of finding meaning after heartbreak.
At the heart of the memoir is the unforgettable life of Renzo, whose brief time in the world is portrayed with extraordinary warmth, tenderness, and joy. Schnipper captures not only the devastating impact of losing a child but also the immeasurable love that continues long after loss. Every chapter honors Renzo's life while reminding readers that the depth of grief is inseparable from the depth of love.
What makes this memoir especially powerful is its refusal to offer simplistic answers or easy resolutions. Instead, Schnipper portrays grief as a complex and evolving journey, revealing how it reshapes relationships, identity, faith, creativity, and everyday life. His reflections on music, family, friendship, and the search for moments of hope are deeply authentic, allowing readers to witness both profound sorrow and remarkable resilience.
The writing is compassionate, intimate, and emotionally resonant without ever becoming sentimental. Schnipper's willingness to share vulnerability creates an immediate connection with readers, offering comfort not through certainty but through honesty. His ability to find beauty amid heartbreak transforms this memoir into more than a story of loss. It becomes a testament to the enduring strength of love and the resilience of the human spirit.
Rise Above is an extraordinary memoir that will remain with readers long after the final page. It is a deeply compassionate exploration of fatherhood, grief, healing, and remembrance, offering hope to anyone who has experienced loss while celebrating the lasting impact of a life filled with love.
At the heart of the memoir is the unforgettable life of Renzo, whose brief time in the world is portrayed with extraordinary warmth, tenderness, and joy. Schnipper captures not only the devastating impact of losing a child but also the immeasurable love that continues long after loss. Every chapter honors Renzo's life while reminding readers that the depth of grief is inseparable from the depth of love.
What makes this memoir especially powerful is its refusal to offer simplistic answers or easy resolutions. Instead, Schnipper portrays grief as a complex and evolving journey, revealing how it reshapes relationships, identity, faith, creativity, and everyday life. His reflections on music, family, friendship, and the search for moments of hope are deeply authentic, allowing readers to witness both profound sorrow and remarkable resilience.
The writing is compassionate, intimate, and emotionally resonant without ever becoming sentimental. Schnipper's willingness to share vulnerability creates an immediate connection with readers, offering comfort not through certainty but through honesty. His ability to find beauty amid heartbreak transforms this memoir into more than a story of loss. It becomes a testament to the enduring strength of love and the resilience of the human spirit.
Rise Above is an extraordinary memoir that will remain with readers long after the final page. It is a deeply compassionate exploration of fatherhood, grief, healing, and remembrance, offering hope to anyone who has experienced loss while celebrating the lasting impact of a life filled with love.
August 10, 2026
Rise Above is a deeply moving memoir about fatherhood, grief, love, and the difficult journey toward finding meaning after unimaginable loss. Matthew Schnipper writes with remarkable honesty, transforming profound personal tragedy into a story of resilience and human connection.
What immediately stands out is the intimate portrait of Renzo's short but extraordinary life. By sharing both the joy of fatherhood and the devastation of losing his son, Schnipper gives readers an emotional understanding of how deeply one life can shape another.
I was particularly impressed by the unconventional ways grief is portrayed. Music, friendships, food, travel, faith, and everyday experiences become part of Schnipper's struggle to remember, process, and ultimately honor his son. These details make the memoir feel intensely personal and authentic.
Ultimately, Rise Above is more than a memoir about loss. It is a powerful reflection on love, memory, resilience, and the ways art can help us continue living after tragedy.
What immediately stands out is the intimate portrait of Renzo's short but extraordinary life. By sharing both the joy of fatherhood and the devastation of losing his son, Schnipper gives readers an emotional understanding of how deeply one life can shape another.
I was particularly impressed by the unconventional ways grief is portrayed. Music, friendships, food, travel, faith, and everyday experiences become part of Schnipper's struggle to remember, process, and ultimately honor his son. These details make the memoir feel intensely personal and authentic.
Ultimately, Rise Above is more than a memoir about loss. It is a powerful reflection on love, memory, resilience, and the ways art can help us continue living after tragedy.
August 10, 2026
In the fall of 2009, I had three days with my daughter, Violet October, before she left us. I picked up this book in honor of her, unsure if I could get through it. I’m grateful I did.
Was afraid it would bring up emotions I wouldn’t understand. It didn’t.
Was afraid I’d be brought back to places I used alcohol to run from, and would be unprepared. I wasn’t.
This book is important to me. It’s interesting, because, in the same way he feels pulled to speak with Rollins about grief, I feel pulled to reach out to him. Why? I don’t really know. Just to be like “me too,” man …
But I won’t. Because it feels kinda wonky. I’m just glad this memoir is out there for dudes like me who feel like we are the only ones.
Sadly, we aren’t the only ones.
Renzo. Violet. So many more.
Thanks for this, Matthew.
Was afraid it would bring up emotions I wouldn’t understand. It didn’t.
Was afraid I’d be brought back to places I used alcohol to run from, and would be unprepared. I wasn’t.
This book is important to me. It’s interesting, because, in the same way he feels pulled to speak with Rollins about grief, I feel pulled to reach out to him. Why? I don’t really know. Just to be like “me too,” man …
But I won’t. Because it feels kinda wonky. I’m just glad this memoir is out there for dudes like me who feel like we are the only ones.
Sadly, we aren’t the only ones.
Renzo. Violet. So many more.
Thanks for this, Matthew.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
While obviously an unbelievably sad topic, I found "Rise Above: A Memoir" carefully composed, super touching, and insightful in understanding such a void too unimaginable to fathom. Highest recommendation possible, bonafide mandatory purchase.
Loved all the cultural references throughout; It opens with a Morbid Angel anecdote and concludes with a brief Sonic Youth treatise. Loved to see the inclusion of recurring appearances of stalwarts of the early 2000s Washington DC/Dischord Records scene. Enjoyed the retelling of the worrisome La Monte Young performance I also attended.
Loved all the cultural references throughout; It opens with a Morbid Angel anecdote and concludes with a brief Sonic Youth treatise. Loved to see the inclusion of recurring appearances of stalwarts of the early 2000s Washington DC/Dischord Records scene. Enjoyed the retelling of the worrisome La Monte Young performance I also attended.
July 25, 2026
Surprisingly, I did not cry throughout the reading of this book. I sobbed at the end, in relief that the author found a way to survive this unthinkable family tragedy. And because it appears that his marriage not only survived it, but grew stronger as he and his wife gave each other what they needed.
His vulnerability and openness will undoubtedly serve as keen guidance, if not inspiration, for others in similar circumstances, or anyone dealing with profound grief.
Kudos to Matthew for openly sharing so much of yourself with your readers.
His vulnerability and openness will undoubtedly serve as keen guidance, if not inspiration, for others in similar circumstances, or anyone dealing with profound grief.
Kudos to Matthew for openly sharing so much of yourself with your readers.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Read
April 18, 2026This memoir is a love story to both the author’s son and his lifelong passion for music. He writes with vulnerability, offering meaningful insights into grief in the wake of his devastating loss. It is well written, and readers who are knowledgeable about or passionate about music will appreciate it most fully.
Did Not Finish
April 24, 2026I was excited to receive an invitation to this ARC from Random House. The description of grief pulled me in immediately. However, 20% in and no obvious grief has occurred. A lot of build up to what I imagine was a horrible time in this man’s life, but I could not get over the redundant comparison to music and push through this one.
July 23, 2026
This book was such a disappointment. Memoirs are one of my favourite genre, especially really sad ones (I have no idea why that is? but I love them) 80% of the story seemed to revolve around the authors musical tastes, rather than the tragedy of losing his adorable young son, and coming to terms with that.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
I received a free copy of, Rise Above, by Matthew Schnipper, from the publisher and Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. Parents should never have to bury their child, no matter what age said, child is. This is a sad read, losing a child so young, is heartbreaking.
July 27, 2026
Read in one sitting, gobsmacked by how beautifully written it was. Lots of bits of wisdom tucked in; 'you learn nothing from bad luck,' and loved the pop culture stuff interspersed. Don't even know how I stumbled upon this, I'm sure glad I did, will re read. Hope it gets the attention it deserves
July 30, 2026
I tried to listen to the audio version but found the narration very boring. Eventually I gave up.
August 1, 2026
What a generous gift, what an incredible achievement. Intimacy, heartbreak, love, and music. I'm floored.
August 4, 2026
such a devastating and beautiful portrait of grief.
August 6, 2026
I have a tag “I love you and thank you” on rateyourmusic reserved for Elliott Smith and Frank Ocean. Same here.
Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews