The adage that that everyone has a novel in them is rather old and tiresome. Everyone lives a life, and to them that life is interesting. It is very likely they had mountains to climb and demons to tackle — that is part of being a human after all. The question is whether that story is going to be entertaining enough for people to want to buy it and devote time to it. There are many such self-published personal stories — self-published for a very good reason: they were interesting for the author to write, and possibly for their friends and family to read, but that’s it. They may well have proved therapeutic for the author. None of that is to say they should never have been published, however. There is a niche for such things.
Cultivating mad cow is not in that category of memoir. It is well written and is engaging. The life journey of the author has been far from an ordinary one — being on the very extremes of human experience. It will make you question life and what it means to you, as you follow Kathryn’s story. It is not a light read, though it is funny to in a tragicomedy sort of way. I started reading it whilst under pressure at work and feeling a little stressed, and had to stop as it was freaking me out a bit, so I read The Water Babies instead, returning to Cultivating Mad Cow when I was on a more even keel.
I mentioned funny bits — I believe we have the author’s permission to laugh, even though it is in a slightly uncomfortable way as it is humorous in a mad sort of way — literally. You question whether you are laughing with and not at the protagonist.
It makes you start to question the meaning of mental illness and normality and just how thin the divide between them is. It is a book with a happy ending however. I make no apologies for that spoiler —read it, learn from it, enjoy it and take comfort from knowing it will all work out in the end.
You could describe it as a muesli bar of a book — it has something to chew on, is good for you, but still enjoyable. It is certainly not a marshmallow book — full of air, cloying and lacking in substance.