"With a writing style that is as clear-minded and straightforward as it is absorbing, Without Jenny pulls the reader in to family’s great depths of emotion." —Foreword Reviews Joy Rosenberg thinks she’s the luckiest person in the world, with satisfying work, a passionate marriage, an excellent bicycle and two great kids. But when ten-year-old Jenny is killed, Joy’s life is destroyed. Tortured by visions of the accident and twisted by guilt, she feels doomed to a life of unremitting darkness. Family, Judaism, work, athletics—nothing will deliver what she wants the Jenny. Joy struggles to live a life of purpose and compassion while grief is tearing it apart. Can she forgive herself and learn to love again, or will she lose her husband and son forever? An emotional story told in honest and haunting detail, Without Jenny is an intimate portrait of a loving marriage stretched to the breaking point by the unspeakable.
Several years after I started my teaching career in the mid-1990s, I returned to graduate school to earn a degree in counseling psychology. As part of that program, I read many books about grief and thought that I had a pretty detailed understanding of grief and how to respond to it as a clinician. Then, as a parent, we lost our middle son to an accidental overdose almost six years ago. While I had lost other loved ones before his death and thought I knew how to handle my own grief, I was not prepared to grieve for my beloved son. So I read books about parental grief, trying to find help to survive our reality. There were many books that talked about nutrition, religion, therapy, and other ways to handle grief, but none of them resonated with me. While we read those books, we also listened to the well-meaning comments on how his death would destroy our marriage and our family, and had to figure out how to make our own new reality with our family intact. This past month, I picked up the novel Without Jenny by Mark Gunther. The book was suggested by a writer who knows my work as well as Gunther's work. A novel about grief? I was intrigued. When it arrived, the gorgeous cover pulled me right in, and I didn't even bother to read the "about the author," which I usually do before starting a book. Within pages, I was holding back sobs as I read about the main character's pain and anguish as her beloved daughter was killed in a freak accident. I could feel her loneliness, the guilt, the uncertainty, the not wanting to eat, wanting to or not being able to sleep, the feeling that life would never be the same again. I read each page of the struggles Joy's family endured trying to figure out their new lives, and how to keep their family together, rooting for them, but also knowing how hard just surviving on a daily basis can be. I relished the depiction of grief within the Jewish community of faith and wished for a moment that my religious community had such simple but beautiful rituals for grief. I felt her absolute devotion to her living son, and her desire to figure out how to keep their family together, even as their lives were so completely changed with Jenny's death. Beyond it being a truly beautiful story of love, healing, and hope, Without Jenny is exquisitely written. Gunther's use of descriptive language is tight and lyrical, clear but not overwhelming. I am amazed at his ability to write from a woman's point of view. I marveled at his ability to depict a parent's grief, and his ability to explain the complexities of family life after the death of a child, and to do so in a work of fiction. Later, as I finished the book, I read the acknowledgments and Gunther’s biography. Reading that he too is a grieving parent (something I hadn't known until then) made me reflect on how writers often wrestle with their own demons as they write fiction. Without Jenny is a beautiful book that is uplifting even if you aren't grieving yourself.
“Without Jenny” by Mark Gunther is a powerful story about love and loss, and one family’s journey through grief.
The Rosenberg’s had the perfect life. A loving and passionate marriage, two great kids, and fulfilling, satisfying careers. It only took a split second to change their lives forever when ten-year-old Jenny is killed in what can only be considered a freak accident. Joy Rosenberg is consumed with guilt as she relives the terror over and over again. She tries everything to get through the grief relying on her faith, her family, her job and exercise – but nothing even comes close to numbing or releasing the pain. As Joy struggles to find some semblance of a new normal, her family is falling apart. Powerless and without hope or purpose, how does she go on living without Jenny?
Oh wow. How to start? There is no greater loss a parent can face than the death of a child. Before reading “Without Jenny” I would have said that I could not even comprehend the spectrum of emotions one endures, but Mark Gunther writes with such feeling and clarity I could actually imagine “what-if-it-happened-to-me” scenarios. The result, a haunting chill that won’t soon be forgotten by this reader as I felt like I was getting a glimpse into his soul. Indeed, the pages are steeped with a disturbing reality that can only come from first-hand knowledge.
Readers experience different levels of grief through the characters as related by each, with the focus on Jenny’s mother, Joy Rosenberg. Her anguish is mortifying and sobering, yet we also get clear insight into the strength and depth of her character as she tries to manage and cope. Her personality shines through, whether she is steering well-intentioned but ill-prepared well-wishers into silence, or trying to be present for her husband and son.
I was moved by every element of this story. The characters, the storyline, the settings, the impact of such a tragic accident – everything written in a way that both compels and repulses the reader at the same time. You want to stop reading, the tragedy is so unbearable – but you can’t. Like watching a horror movie snuggled underneath a blanket, peeking out at the screen with one eye and a hand over your mouth to quiet a scream. It’s hard to adequately articulate the eloquence of the writing and the influence it has on the reader. That Gunther is able to so meticulously relay the feelings of a grieving woman speaks volumes to his power with the written word.
I highly recommend “Without Jenny” and commend Mark Gunther on the authenticity and brilliance of his debut novel. This is a must-read story that will leave an imprint on your heart forever.
Everything was going perfect for Joy’s family when a mishap occurred. Her life came to stand still along with her daughter's loss. Family, Judaism, work, athletics--nothing will deliver what she wants the most: Jenny. Joy struggles to live a life of purpose and compassion while grief is tearing it apart. The lifetime loss of the comfort and succor of a living child was impossible to value because the adult capacities of any given child were unpredictable. Each person has their own way of dealing with loss and grief. Being together is very important in these situations.
This book is captivating and heart-wrenching.No words can express the emptiness and pain one goes through. It is a really challenging story to write as a debut author and the readers can experience how hard grief actually is.
I loved the way the author introduces each family member and friends.
Relatable issues in the family, relationship, and society from practical life are dealt with. Trust the people who love you and it takes some years to find the new normal.
This story will leave an imprint on your heart forever.
Grief is a subject often described but difficult to truly capture. The desire to fix it, or to sensationalize it, or to normalize it often becomes the theme of grief books. Memoirs want to traverse the scope of grief; novels to place it in a context, whether personal, familial or societal. (You can find my 'theory of grief' in my essay "Grief's Cradle:" https://centering.org/grief-digest-ar...). In Without Jenny, though, my goal was to communicate the lived experience of parental bereavement, the implacable day-to-day reality of the destroyed world. To Joy, despair and sadness seem the only legitimate response to the crushing fact of Jenny's death, but the mind is both plastic and desperate. For a time Joy occupies both worlds, of the living and of the dead. The palpable presence of the Other World shapes her day to day perception. She dialogs with a mystically embodied other who may be Jenny. Yet time's passage inevitably brings daily life back to her. She fights it. How does living become acceptable when you betray your dead child with every breath you take? The struggle to reconcile these mutually exclusive experiences forms the heart of my narrative.
This is a family with a lot of advantages--financial success, strong family ties, loving friends, the community and practice that Judaism provides--but it doesn't make Jenny's loss any less horrible. The novel is raw, painful, often achingly sad, an unflinching journey through the reality of child loss, yet hope haltingly asserts itself as Joy so imperfectly confronts the new life emerging from the ashes of the old. Judaism is deeply intertwined in the narrative and speaks to this family in ways that surprise them; Joy forms an unexpected connection to ritual, to Torah and to her rabbi. Her marriage is turned inside out, is stretched to the breaking point, yet Jenny's death becomes one more bond tying the family together. Writing this book was one more step I took on the road toward what is true. Life goes on. I hope that both bereaved parents and the people who love them can find support and recognition in Without Jenny.
Shattering. An incredibly sad story, which explores the grief journey of a “perfect” family nearly destroyed by the death of the big sister in a freak accident. It centers on Joy, the Mom, who just can’t believe Jenny is dead and the many ways she tries to cope with that cold hard fact. We also learn about Danny’s efforts to understand it all, while supporting his wife and trying to keep life “normal” for Jenny’s adoring little brother Jake because Joy is just incapable at first to help their son. And the marriage hits rocky ground, too. Gradually they work through the darkness, and in the end, we’re left with the impression that the family has achieved a “new normal” albeit after year’s of gut-wrenching struggle.