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The Baltimore Book of the Dead
Approaching mourning and memory with intimacy, humor, and an eye for the idiosyncratic, the story starts in the 1960s in Marion Winik's native New Jersey, winds through Austin, Texas, and rural Pennsylvania, and finally settles in her current home of Baltimore.
Winik begins with a portrait of her mother, the Alpha, introducing locales and language around which other stories will orbit: the power of family, home, and love; the pain of loss and the tenderness of nostalgia; the backdrop of nature and public events. From there, she goes on to create a highly personal panorama of the last half century of American life. Joining the Alpha are the Man Who Could Take Off His Thumb, the Babydaddy, the Warrior Poetess, El Suegro, and the Thin White Duke, not to mention a miniature toy poodle and a goldfish.
Winik begins with a portrait of her mother, the Alpha, introducing locales and language around which other stories will orbit: the power of family, home, and love; the pain of loss and the tenderness of nostalgia; the backdrop of nature and public events. From there, she goes on to create a highly personal panorama of the last half century of American life. Joining the Alpha are the Man Who Could Take Off His Thumb, the Babydaddy, the Warrior Poetess, El Suegro, and the Thin White Duke, not to mention a miniature toy poodle and a goldfish.
138 pages, Hardcover
First published October 9, 2018
96 people are currently reading
1055 people want to read
About the author
Marion Winik
30 books94 followersLongtime All Things Considered commentator Marion Winik is the author of First Comes Love, The Glen Rock Book of the Dead and seven other books. The Baltimore Book of the Dead is forthcoming from Counterpoint this fall. Her award-winning column on BaltimoreFishbowl.com appears monthly, and her essays have been published in The New York Times Magazine, The Sun and elsewhere. She is the host of The Weekly Reader radio show and podcast and reviews books for Newsday, People, and Kirkus Review. She is a board member of the National Book Critics Circle and a professor in the MFA program at the University of Baltimore. More info at marionwinik.com.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 97 reviews
January 17, 2019
At 130 pages, this slim volume could be read in a couple of hours, but it deserves to be read slowly. I savored each essay and gave myself time to reflect on what I had read before moving on to the next.
Each 2 page essay is a eulogy of sorts for people the author has either known personally or the lives of those who have had an impact on her life. None are named, but instead are given a title and the year of their death: The Alpha, died 2008, The Volunteer, died 2013, Portrait of a Lady, died 2017…etc. Each piece is written in beautiful spare prose with no wasted words. Some are funny and others are heartbreakingly poignant. What an amazing talent to convey so much in so few words.
Never maudlin, no one depicted here is sugarcoated, they are celebrated for their uniqueness, flaws and all. Some lives are well-lived while others are more complicated. But all are remembered.
It made me reflect on the people in my life who have gone before me and the impact I myself will leave behind one day.
This book has earned a permanent place on my nightstand, where I can dip in and out of it at will. Highly recommended.
Many thanks to my friend Victoria who recommended this book to me.
Each 2 page essay is a eulogy of sorts for people the author has either known personally or the lives of those who have had an impact on her life. None are named, but instead are given a title and the year of their death: The Alpha, died 2008, The Volunteer, died 2013, Portrait of a Lady, died 2017…etc. Each piece is written in beautiful spare prose with no wasted words. Some are funny and others are heartbreakingly poignant. What an amazing talent to convey so much in so few words.
Never maudlin, no one depicted here is sugarcoated, they are celebrated for their uniqueness, flaws and all. Some lives are well-lived while others are more complicated. But all are remembered.
It made me reflect on the people in my life who have gone before me and the impact I myself will leave behind one day.
This book has earned a permanent place on my nightstand, where I can dip in and out of it at will. Highly recommended.
Many thanks to my friend Victoria who recommended this book to me.
October 7, 2018
Death is the subtext of life, there is no way around it. It is the foundation of life’s meaning and value. From the author’s introduction
While the title sounds macabre, this is anything but, instead offering thoughtful remembrances in a series of short essays. Every essay is a mini eulogy of a life lived, sometimes well, sometimes painfully, but each brings forth a picture of its subject in a beautifully constructed, almost poetic way. There is nothing extraneous, no maudlin ramblings, only memories boiled down to their essence and each is remarkable.
Like her previous book, The Glen Rock Book of the Dead--which I haven’t read, but plan to immediately--the individuals eulogized are people she knew and others as she notes, ‘that she admired from afar,’ but none are identified beyond The Mensch, The Warrior Poetess, The Artist and so on. These titles lend an almost mythical quality to each life…and also a haunting memorial.
I loved this tiny little book so much that I’ve read it twice, savoring the essays slowly the second time around just as Ann Patchett recommended. And I can’t recommend it highly enough to those who love beautiful writing stripped bare yet offering an emotional resonance that provides both insights into Winik’s life, but also our own. How will we be remembered, after all?
Thank you to Amy, my ARC Fairy Godmother for introducing me to this wonderful writer and for sharing her book with me.
While the title sounds macabre, this is anything but, instead offering thoughtful remembrances in a series of short essays. Every essay is a mini eulogy of a life lived, sometimes well, sometimes painfully, but each brings forth a picture of its subject in a beautifully constructed, almost poetic way. There is nothing extraneous, no maudlin ramblings, only memories boiled down to their essence and each is remarkable.
Like her previous book, The Glen Rock Book of the Dead--which I haven’t read, but plan to immediately--the individuals eulogized are people she knew and others as she notes, ‘that she admired from afar,’ but none are identified beyond The Mensch, The Warrior Poetess, The Artist and so on. These titles lend an almost mythical quality to each life…and also a haunting memorial.
I loved this tiny little book so much that I’ve read it twice, savoring the essays slowly the second time around just as Ann Patchett recommended. And I can’t recommend it highly enough to those who love beautiful writing stripped bare yet offering an emotional resonance that provides both insights into Winik’s life, but also our own. How will we be remembered, after all?
Thank you to Amy, my ARC Fairy Godmother for introducing me to this wonderful writer and for sharing her book with me.
November 3, 2018
5 stars! ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️
This stunning little book could almost fit in your pocket. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around all that is contained within the pages and deep within Winik’s words. I challenged myself to make this review bite-sized, too, and to hit at the heart of what this book is.
Beginning with the story of her mother, Winik pens the memories of those who have passed away in brief essays. The writing is straightforward but filled with tenderness and hope. The themes are universal and about what anchors us- family and home. I’ve read nothing like it, and I’m grateful a Goodreads’ friend (Victoria) reviewed it so highly. She read it based on a recommendation from none other than Anne Patchett.
In summary, this book is poetic, simple, emotional, and absorbingly profound. Even with me doing my best to describe how it made me feel, I guarantee when you pick it up, it will feel different to you. It will become something bigger, and my hope is that it will fit neatly into your heart as it did mine.
Thank you to Counterpoint Press for the complimentary copy. All opinions are my own.
My reviews can also be found on my blog: www.jennifertarheelreader.com
This stunning little book could almost fit in your pocket. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around all that is contained within the pages and deep within Winik’s words. I challenged myself to make this review bite-sized, too, and to hit at the heart of what this book is.
Beginning with the story of her mother, Winik pens the memories of those who have passed away in brief essays. The writing is straightforward but filled with tenderness and hope. The themes are universal and about what anchors us- family and home. I’ve read nothing like it, and I’m grateful a Goodreads’ friend (Victoria) reviewed it so highly. She read it based on a recommendation from none other than Anne Patchett.
In summary, this book is poetic, simple, emotional, and absorbingly profound. Even with me doing my best to describe how it made me feel, I guarantee when you pick it up, it will feel different to you. It will become something bigger, and my hope is that it will fit neatly into your heart as it did mine.
Thank you to Counterpoint Press for the complimentary copy. All opinions are my own.
My reviews can also be found on my blog: www.jennifertarheelreader.com
November 18, 2018
This is an interesting concept of relating her life through short descriptions of people in her life who have died. The author is a poet and there are some great, quotable phrases throughout. It’s impressive how she is able to create a vivid portrait of a person in just a few paragraphs. 3.5⭐️
October 17, 2018
"Our lives are so full of dead people that any sane way of living involves constant remembrance. My days and my thoughts are shaped almost as much by people who are no longer here as those who are. That to cast this remembrance as depressing is to deprive ourselves of our history, our context, and even one of our pleasures, if a bittersweet one…Death is the subtext of life, there is no way around it.”
Marion Winik’s “The Baltimore Book of the Dead” is highly reminiscent of the wonderful Eduardo Galeano’s final book “Children of The Days”. I hold the latter in great esteem so this is one of the highest compliments I can give it. Galeano’s book takes men and women from history who may be either forgotten or not well known and writes a 1-2 page eulogy of sorts for them. It is a beautiful work and clearly something from Galeano’s heart. Winik’s book follows the same format, 1-2 page eulogies, but these are of people who touched Winik’s life in some way but are otherwise unknown (that is with the exception of eulogies to David Bowie, Prince, and Lou Reed who also touched her life in their own way).
Many of her eulogies are from people she knew in Baltimore, (this book is actually a companion to an earlier work titled “The Glen Rock Book of the Dead”) a city that is no stranger to death, particularly of the violent variety.
One only has to read Winik’s wonderful description of Baltimore to understand the context of the lives she writes about:
“To the left and right of this spinal cord of gentrification is another Baltimore, the stubbled flanks of the city: crumbling projects, blocks and blocks of boarded-up row homes, crowded bus stops, street-corner car washes, churches, hairdressers, liquor stores, and chicken shacks.”
The city, Black and White, rich and poor, sheltered and dangerously exposed is inextricably linked to the lives she describes. The message is no matter your station in life, or whether you do good or do harm, death will find you.
What is most remarkable about these vignettes is how unremarkable on the surface these people are. They are middle managers, moms, dancers, teachers, advisers, strippers, a fish, two dogs, and random acquaintances who lived for the most part normal lives. What distinguishes them however is how they touched the author’s life. Some made herculean sacrifices for her, some offered their homes, others simply provided a hug or smile when she needed them most. Wink describes one such friend in one of the more beautiful passages:
“Being his friend was like some kind of painless cosmetic surgery, leaving you just a little prettier and more interesting than you were before.”
In the end, as we find our friends passing on and ourselves increasingly and seemingly alone in this world, is there anything more beautiful in this world than the thought that we had friends like this?
There are few books about people I have never met that have the ability to move me and yet that’s exactly what this book did. It’s a testament to Winik’s skill as a writer as well as to the emotion that pours from each and every life presented here.
Marion Winik’s “The Baltimore Book of the Dead” is highly reminiscent of the wonderful Eduardo Galeano’s final book “Children of The Days”. I hold the latter in great esteem so this is one of the highest compliments I can give it. Galeano’s book takes men and women from history who may be either forgotten or not well known and writes a 1-2 page eulogy of sorts for them. It is a beautiful work and clearly something from Galeano’s heart. Winik’s book follows the same format, 1-2 page eulogies, but these are of people who touched Winik’s life in some way but are otherwise unknown (that is with the exception of eulogies to David Bowie, Prince, and Lou Reed who also touched her life in their own way).
Many of her eulogies are from people she knew in Baltimore, (this book is actually a companion to an earlier work titled “The Glen Rock Book of the Dead”) a city that is no stranger to death, particularly of the violent variety.
One only has to read Winik’s wonderful description of Baltimore to understand the context of the lives she writes about:
“To the left and right of this spinal cord of gentrification is another Baltimore, the stubbled flanks of the city: crumbling projects, blocks and blocks of boarded-up row homes, crowded bus stops, street-corner car washes, churches, hairdressers, liquor stores, and chicken shacks.”
The city, Black and White, rich and poor, sheltered and dangerously exposed is inextricably linked to the lives she describes. The message is no matter your station in life, or whether you do good or do harm, death will find you.
What is most remarkable about these vignettes is how unremarkable on the surface these people are. They are middle managers, moms, dancers, teachers, advisers, strippers, a fish, two dogs, and random acquaintances who lived for the most part normal lives. What distinguishes them however is how they touched the author’s life. Some made herculean sacrifices for her, some offered their homes, others simply provided a hug or smile when she needed them most. Wink describes one such friend in one of the more beautiful passages:
“Being his friend was like some kind of painless cosmetic surgery, leaving you just a little prettier and more interesting than you were before.”
In the end, as we find our friends passing on and ourselves increasingly and seemingly alone in this world, is there anything more beautiful in this world than the thought that we had friends like this?
There are few books about people I have never met that have the ability to move me and yet that’s exactly what this book did. It’s a testament to Winik’s skill as a writer as well as to the emotion that pours from each and every life presented here.
September 3, 2021
This book is so lovely and heartbreaking and heartwarming at once. I love the tiny postcard-sized vignettes of the people who have died, and I think Marion Winik's choice to write about people of varying connection to her shows how far reaching grief can be, how deeply a death can impact other people, even those who are seemingly distant from the person who died. A special little book for sure.
December 8, 2022
Beautiful, short, bittersweet, and sometimes downright sad. This is a book of gems to be savored one at a time and slowly. I really enjoyed reading it.
June 14, 2019
This jewel of a book, a companion volume to “The Glen Rock Book of the Dead,” contains 60+ short portraits of people who Winik has known, or known of, who have died in the decade that she has lived in Baltimore. It sounds like a strange premise, but it works beautifully to not only memorialize these people but also remind of us of the fleeting and precious moments of living. Winik has a colloquial and humorous style, and some of her sentences are pure poetry.
February 21, 2019
The book is charming, sincere. It almost reminds me of Goodnight Stories for Rebel Girls, with each chapter devoted to a different person.
The most poignant parts for me were the brief descriptions of people with Alzheimer's Disease. Just little snippets that sum up the cruel world of dementia.
The most poignant parts for me were the brief descriptions of people with Alzheimer's Disease. Just little snippets that sum up the cruel world of dementia.
March 2, 2020
I chose a book by a woman author to read for Women's History Month, and so I picked Marion Winik. For those of you not familiar with her work, she was a local regional writer in Austin, TX and then relocated to the East Coast and became a contributor to NPR's All Things Considered. She has published a series of books including "First Comes Love" about her experiences being married to a gay man that died from HIV. She has also written books about parenting her two boys from that marriage, "Lunchbox Chronicles", and a series of Books of the Dead. She had gotten feedback that talking about death was depressing. I identify with her tales because we are both Jewish, we are about the same age, and both lived in Austin, TX. I admire her strong spirit and her ability to transform her unconventional life into stories that are relatable to many women from our generation. We didn't want conventional families, we wanted careers and to be to follow our dreams. At our age too, we have outlived many close friends and family members, and surviving those deaths increasingly becomes a part of your daily experiences. At the university I work at, we have students that unfortunately die while they are enrolled here. Often it is traffic accidents as the cause of death, but sometimes it is drugs or alcohol. It is a terrible tragedy that their potential and their young lives are cut so short, but we honor their deaths by having Silver Taps ceremonies in the evenings for the students that have passed away. It is certainly sobering, but honoring the dead is not depressing.
June 6, 2019
It's hard to classify this collection of short essays. They are obituaries and character sketches, only a few paragraphs long. Although these were all real people the stories make it feel like fiction. Despite the title it isn't morbid, but a little melancholy. It isn't a complete downer, there are luminous moments, humor and hope.
The entries have intriguing titles, most are profiles of relatives and other people Winik knew though. She includes a few famous people. She also includes victims of violence, writing about the person more than what happened.
I especially liked her animal profiles and I am jealous she got to see Prince live three times.
The entries have intriguing titles, most are profiles of relatives and other people Winik knew though. She includes a few famous people. She also includes victims of violence, writing about the person more than what happened.
I especially liked her animal profiles and I am jealous she got to see Prince live three times.
October 16, 2019
This is a heartbreaking collection of micro-essays of the lives and deaths of people that Marion Winik has known. Marion's ability to capture the heart and soul of a person in two pages or less is quite impressive and often very moving. I felt equal amounts of loss and sadness from reading Marion's essays on the death of total strangers to me (one of her classmates in high school, the grandmother of one of her daughter's friends, and her neighbor's dog) as I did reading essays of the lives of people that I have mourned (Prince and David Bowie).
Just like I try not to eat an entire bag of potato chips in one sitting, I tried not to read this collection too quickly. I have often found that when I read short stories or short essays too quickly, they blend together...and the bag of chips is gone.
I recommend this collection to anyone who wants to ponder the important things in life.
Just like I try not to eat an entire bag of potato chips in one sitting, I tried not to read this collection too quickly. I have often found that when I read short stories or short essays too quickly, they blend together...and the bag of chips is gone.
I recommend this collection to anyone who wants to ponder the important things in life.
May 3, 2019
Really a 3.5 - loved the writing style!
October 11, 2022
Tiny obits. Mostly proving: humans can be wonderful, and sad.
May 29, 2019
This is a terrific book, especially if you are like me and love to read the NY Times obituaries. I used to feel weird admitting that, but two things made me change my mind. 1. The NY Times still prints them, and that can't possibly be just for the friends and family. and 2. They made a documentary about the NY Times writers of those obituaries, appropriately called, Obit. But I digress, sorry. This beautifully-designed, pocket-sized edition (I know adorable is not an acceptable literary term, but still) is tempting to devour in one sitting, but I suggest you take your time. Winik does not use people's names, which I liked, (This is a follow-up to her original Glen Rock Book of the Dead, which I couldn't get a copy of in my local book store.) but I did spend some additional time trying to google to figure out who some of them were. (The Playwright, anyone?) So yes, I read it in two days instead, but really, this one is worth savoring.
October 10, 2018
This book about dead people has more life than any other 10 books. By turns funny, poignant and ironic, this touching memoir is told though those who have left this mortal coil although the author, nor you, will forget them. Highest rating!
April 5, 2019
Anyone who knows me, knows how much I dislike short stories. But these - these are no ordinary stories. Miniature worlds that pack a punch.
October 3, 2018
Brevity is the soul of wit, and all the departed souls are residing in this slim paperback.
February 25, 2019
Read the ebook, borrowed from the library.
I really liked the format and idea of this book. And I enjoyed reading it and found it generally successful and sometimes specifically transcendent.
I really liked the format and idea of this book. And I enjoyed reading it and found it generally successful and sometimes specifically transcendent.
March 26, 2019
The Baltimore Book of the Dead is a compassionate, funny tribute to dead friends, acquaintances and people the author would have enjoyed knowing. I couldn't put it down even though one needs to take a breath after each two-page vignette to savor the beautiful writing, the pinpoint characterization. An unexpected treasure which I started again as soon as I'd finished.
This is from her forward:
"As far as death at the dinner table goes, some respectful space must be made for grief. Grief is socially awkward, if not all-out anti-social, difficult to accommodate even in one-on-one conversations. Even now, when I mention that I widowed in my first marriage, or that my first baby was stillborn, I see people's faces fall, and I rush to explain that it was a long, long time ago and it was very sad but I am fine now. I really am. But I am also trying to spare them the awkwardness of having to come up with some appropriate or more likely inappropriate response, perhaps making some well-intentioned but doomed attempt to help me get over it, possibly by implying that it was God's will.
Which brings me back to the time when I was not fine, after those deaths and others, as well, and there I find part of my motivation for writing these books, for dwelling so long in the graveyard for finding a way to talk about it. Ultimately, instead of attempting to flee from the pain of loss, I decided to spend time with it, to linger, to let these thoughts and feelings bloom inside me into something else.
Why do we build memorials, decorate grave sites, set up shrines, stitch an AIDS quilt, paint three murals for Freddie Gray; what are these ghostly white bicycles woven with flowers on Charles and Roland avenues?"
This is from her forward:
"As far as death at the dinner table goes, some respectful space must be made for grief. Grief is socially awkward, if not all-out anti-social, difficult to accommodate even in one-on-one conversations. Even now, when I mention that I widowed in my first marriage, or that my first baby was stillborn, I see people's faces fall, and I rush to explain that it was a long, long time ago and it was very sad but I am fine now. I really am. But I am also trying to spare them the awkwardness of having to come up with some appropriate or more likely inappropriate response, perhaps making some well-intentioned but doomed attempt to help me get over it, possibly by implying that it was God's will.
Which brings me back to the time when I was not fine, after those deaths and others, as well, and there I find part of my motivation for writing these books, for dwelling so long in the graveyard for finding a way to talk about it. Ultimately, instead of attempting to flee from the pain of loss, I decided to spend time with it, to linger, to let these thoughts and feelings bloom inside me into something else.
Why do we build memorials, decorate grave sites, set up shrines, stitch an AIDS quilt, paint three murals for Freddie Gray; what are these ghostly white bicycles woven with flowers on Charles and Roland avenues?"
December 1, 2024
The kind of memories one might write in a sympathy card to the family of the deceased
Full disclosure: I'm particularly taken with obituaries right now. They've played a large part in the genealogy research that fill my days and from them, I'm compiling a list of specific phrases used to describe the dead—phrases that go beyond the dates of birth and marriage and the lists of employers, survivors, and family members who predeceased them and that help me form a more complete picture of who my (or my husband's) ancestor was. But that's only one reason I enjoyed this short book of memories and tributes.
This companion book to The Glen Rock Book of the Dead is clever, witty, and warm.
Each entry is no longer than the typical obituary; the prose is respectful and filled with gratitude for the relationship Winik had with each of the dead and the impact that relationship had on her life. Instead of filling these sentimental tributes with names and dates that hold meaning only for the author, Winik refers to each subject by nickname—a nickname that immediately reveals how Winik wants readers to meet those who were so important to her. Some examples: The Man Who Could Take Off His Thumb, The Classmate, The Statistic, The Mother of Four, The Very Tiny Baby, His Dog.
As a whole, the sixty-one tributes of this book are a scrapbook that documents part of Winik's life. But most of all, The Baltimore Book of the Dead is a gift to the loved ones of those highlighted on its pages and encouragement to the rest of us: use sympathy cards to share memories in addition to condolences.
Full disclosure: I'm particularly taken with obituaries right now. They've played a large part in the genealogy research that fill my days and from them, I'm compiling a list of specific phrases used to describe the dead—phrases that go beyond the dates of birth and marriage and the lists of employers, survivors, and family members who predeceased them and that help me form a more complete picture of who my (or my husband's) ancestor was. But that's only one reason I enjoyed this short book of memories and tributes.
This companion book to The Glen Rock Book of the Dead is clever, witty, and warm.
Each entry is no longer than the typical obituary; the prose is respectful and filled with gratitude for the relationship Winik had with each of the dead and the impact that relationship had on her life. Instead of filling these sentimental tributes with names and dates that hold meaning only for the author, Winik refers to each subject by nickname—a nickname that immediately reveals how Winik wants readers to meet those who were so important to her. Some examples: The Man Who Could Take Off His Thumb, The Classmate, The Statistic, The Mother of Four, The Very Tiny Baby, His Dog.
As a whole, the sixty-one tributes of this book are a scrapbook that documents part of Winik's life. But most of all, The Baltimore Book of the Dead is a gift to the loved ones of those highlighted on its pages and encouragement to the rest of us: use sympathy cards to share memories in addition to condolences.
January 10, 2019
Read this on Anne Patchett's recommendation. If it had been longer, I"d probably not have finished it. It is a series of essays (2-3 pages each) which are in essence a obituary for someone the author knew wished to memorialize. That's a lot of death. I didn't find much of it memorable. In fact, hard pressed to remember any specifics. She memorializes a couple celebrities, but honestly, I saw better writing about Bowie and Prince on facebook. If you need to be reminded that life is fleeting, that accident, illness and old age come to all - read this. If you're pretty comfortable with that idea, this is not a necessary read.
November 30, 2018
This is an extremely fast read that really should be read much slower. Each page is a perfect, beautiful eulogy to a person I have never met or known, but feel as though I have. A reminder to see the beauty in everything, every person, every moment.
February 7, 2019
A little gem!
January 15, 2019
"Death is the subtext of life," writes the author in her introduction of THE BALTIMORE BOOK OF THE DEAD, and she would be right. Poetic vignettes of 60+ individuals (including one dog and one goldfish), Winik captures the beauty of living in this slim book.
Longtime commentator of NPR's "All Things Considered" (1991-2006), Marion Winik is a new-to-me author. I'm so glad I've had the opportunity to relish in her poetic, yet sparse writing.
And relish, I did. Although THE BALTIMORE BOOK OF THE DEAD is a slim volume (heck, it could almost fit in your pocket), you might be tempted to breeze right through it in one sitting.
But don't.
Every short essay (2-3 pages at most) deserves your full attention, a careful read. I was amazed and awed with how vivid a portrait Ms. Winik could paint with few words. There's hope, love, family, pain all succinctly wrapped in a tidy package.
THE BALTIMORE BOOK OF THE DEAD features 'death' in the title, and you might be wondering if you want to sit and read about death ...because doesn't that sound a bit depressing? Well, do it anyway. It's not as dull or macabre as it might sound. Winik writes with a graceful and amazingly light hand about a less-light subject and in essence, her observations are more of a lesson for the living, a glimmering memorial, and nuanced observations of the world we live.
There were just a few stories that I had difficulty connecting, or wondering what, exactly, I read. But that could have just been me. Overall, I found THE BALTIMORE BOOK OF THE DEAD most insightful, though unusual, with a cumulative affect that will keep me thinking long after the last page.
For all my reviews, including author interviews, please see: www.leslielindsay.com
Special thanks to Counterpoint Press for this review copy. All thoughts are my own.
Longtime commentator of NPR's "All Things Considered" (1991-2006), Marion Winik is a new-to-me author. I'm so glad I've had the opportunity to relish in her poetic, yet sparse writing.
And relish, I did. Although THE BALTIMORE BOOK OF THE DEAD is a slim volume (heck, it could almost fit in your pocket), you might be tempted to breeze right through it in one sitting.
But don't.
Every short essay (2-3 pages at most) deserves your full attention, a careful read. I was amazed and awed with how vivid a portrait Ms. Winik could paint with few words. There's hope, love, family, pain all succinctly wrapped in a tidy package.
THE BALTIMORE BOOK OF THE DEAD features 'death' in the title, and you might be wondering if you want to sit and read about death ...because doesn't that sound a bit depressing? Well, do it anyway. It's not as dull or macabre as it might sound. Winik writes with a graceful and amazingly light hand about a less-light subject and in essence, her observations are more of a lesson for the living, a glimmering memorial, and nuanced observations of the world we live.
There were just a few stories that I had difficulty connecting, or wondering what, exactly, I read. But that could have just been me. Overall, I found THE BALTIMORE BOOK OF THE DEAD most insightful, though unusual, with a cumulative affect that will keep me thinking long after the last page.
For all my reviews, including author interviews, please see: www.leslielindsay.com
Special thanks to Counterpoint Press for this review copy. All thoughts are my own.
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October 30, 2019Except for love, nothing toys with our emotions quite like death. The death of a loved one has made me laugh, cry, laugh and cry at the same time, sob so hard that my chest heaved heavily up and down, and, once, I even surprised myself when I let out a blood-curdling scream from a deep-seated rage that I thought only happened in the movies. Turns out it happens in real life too. Marion Winik states, "Death is the subtext of life," and I agree, which is why the latest collection of flash-nonfiction, memoir pieces from her Baltimore Book of the Dead resonates as strongly with me as her first collection in Glen Rock Book of the Dead. In both collections, Winik honors those she knew and/or loved and lost through elaborate yet concise narratives that paint a clear vision of each of the deceased. Similar to Glen Rock, I read all of Baltimore in a single sitting and I look forward to revisiting each piece, or person if you will, at a much slower pace to fully appreciate Winik's mix of quick wit and nostalgic recounting of a life lost. Winik states, "My days and my thoughts are shaped almost as much by people who are no longer here as those who are. How many times have you thought or has someone said to you, "If [fill in the name] were here, you know what he/she would say." ' I feel most readers can relate to this sentiment. It's what drew me in to Glen Rock and made it a no-brainer to read Baltimore. Winik wrote each of these 250-word (or less) eulogy-like pieces to stand alone, but her clever arrangement of each story provides a natural progression, and, in the end, she tells a full, non-morbid story—a second memoir inspired by the dead.
February 1, 2024
The Baltimore Book of the Dead by Marion Winik is not a memoir, but it is a book about people who touched her life who have died. It is a brilliant book with engaging portraits, short, succinct, engaging with great description that exemplifies the time and place. There are many stories out of Texas, Baltimore, outside and around Washington DC, New York City, and the Bay area. In Baltimore we learn about Jones Falls, and why the highway was built in jagged twists and turns was to follow the river, she learned where the river comes out and hikes through underbrush to see it pouring out of a huge pipe! This is a book filled with people, and authors she doesn't name, and place. It is as if we are learning inside information, secrets whispered over a back fence. Getting the nit and gritty of a life. She delivers!
It is her companion book to "The Glen Rock Book of the Dead." A book I half read because I had to return it to the library! I took out this book thinking it was the same book, then realized I was reading different stories. I need to get that book again because I love her writing. There are notes in the back and she follows through with some of the characters from the first book (Glen Rock) in this second book (Baltimore). Both these books are gems, Marion Winik is an excellent describer and portrait writer.
It is her companion book to "The Glen Rock Book of the Dead." A book I half read because I had to return it to the library! I took out this book thinking it was the same book, then realized I was reading different stories. I need to get that book again because I love her writing. There are notes in the back and she follows through with some of the characters from the first book (Glen Rock) in this second book (Baltimore). Both these books are gems, Marion Winik is an excellent describer and portrait writer.
November 24, 2018
This little book of bighearted essays, The Baltimore Book of the Dead, by Marion Winik is truly about life, how we live our lives, how we should be grateful for having had certain people in our lives. Each essay is only a couple of hundred words and fall under generic titles, including my favorites: "The Mensch," "The Camp Director," "The Brother-in-Law," "The Father of the Bride," "El Suegro." The titles aren't my favorites, but the stories behind these men are -- imperfect, loving, giving, often broken men are my favorites. They remind me of my Pop. There are essays on women too, and they are complicated, difficult women , several who die too young of cancers, breast, uterine. These are deeply, beautifully scored pieces. But for me, it was the essays about our imperfect men that captured my heart, that made me re-read them, and made me think of my Pop, may he rest in peace. By the end of this book, which travels to Texas, Pennsylvania and ends up in Baltimore, you mourn these people too, sometimes by laughing or smiling along with the author at the oddity and absurdity of life (this isn't an overtly sad book), but most of all, you are grateful that you have had the chance to meet these dead--and that they live on. Thank you, Marion Winik.
January 9, 2019
Non-fiction, slim volume of two-three page essays about people that the author has known in her life that have died. The essays are nameless and often the Chapter is titled with a nickname or one word descriptor of the deceased. And, somehow the book is not maudlin. It made me think of what I want to be most remembered for, what differences I would like to make in my own little tiny corner of the world, and who I might have made an impression on when I pass. It makes you examine your own mortality and the mortality of those you love. Somehow, most of the book is uplifting and written so succinctly that it sometimes feels poetic. What a talent to choose your written words so carefully that it can evoke emotions in just a few paragraphs!
I volunteered to read this book in exchange for my honest review and found that I could highly recommend it. The only portion that I found extremely difficult to read were the chapters describing the sudden loss of a child. Horrific thought and my worst nightmare.
As I was reading this book, I was watching the PBS Newshour one evening around Christmas in which two renowned authors recommended what they considered to be the best of 2018 as gifts of the season. I was surprised to see author, Ann Patchett include this one, too.
I volunteered to read this book in exchange for my honest review and found that I could highly recommend it. The only portion that I found extremely difficult to read were the chapters describing the sudden loss of a child. Horrific thought and my worst nightmare.
As I was reading this book, I was watching the PBS Newshour one evening around Christmas in which two renowned authors recommended what they considered to be the best of 2018 as gifts of the season. I was surprised to see author, Ann Patchett include this one, too.
September 22, 2019
1) Clever writing
2) Quirky
3) Sublime stuff!
Enjoyment: 5
How do we remember others?
What do we choose to remember?
What do our memories mean to our own lives?
"Being his friend was like some kind of painless cosmetic surgery, leaving you just a little prettier and more interesting than you were before." -"The Southern Gentleman," p.93
This is the perfect bait and switch...But one that you'll want to be tricked. What a paradox! What appears to be a malnourished, breezy, and maybe even morbid read, is instead surprisingly fulfilling and gorgeously consuming. Although this a book about death, it screams with life and emotions. What an intriguing way to remember those you have known. Winik displays how remembering such loss offers gravity and stamina, and a smirk or two. This collection charms, chuckles, and creatively commemorates.
Each concise portrait is like an odd, insightful, and evocative obituary with a title like how we remember people - not by name, but with a generic yet apt description: The Alpha, The Warrior Poetess, The Werewolf, The Statistic. Some entries have connections between the deceased (Winik notes those who appear in her similarly-themed previous book) - squeezing out a little more life about these lives.
I'm not sure how you read a book like this. Do you read one death/life a day? Surely reading too many entries and feeling the bodies pile up in your mind leads to something unsettling. Or perhaps it is ironically comforting, as we begin to recognize how our lives are so similar through all of our differences.
2) Quirky
3) Sublime stuff!
Enjoyment: 5
How do we remember others?
What do we choose to remember?
What do our memories mean to our own lives?
"Being his friend was like some kind of painless cosmetic surgery, leaving you just a little prettier and more interesting than you were before." -"The Southern Gentleman," p.93
This is the perfect bait and switch...But one that you'll want to be tricked. What a paradox! What appears to be a malnourished, breezy, and maybe even morbid read, is instead surprisingly fulfilling and gorgeously consuming. Although this a book about death, it screams with life and emotions. What an intriguing way to remember those you have known. Winik displays how remembering such loss offers gravity and stamina, and a smirk or two. This collection charms, chuckles, and creatively commemorates.
Each concise portrait is like an odd, insightful, and evocative obituary with a title like how we remember people - not by name, but with a generic yet apt description: The Alpha, The Warrior Poetess, The Werewolf, The Statistic. Some entries have connections between the deceased (Winik notes those who appear in her similarly-themed previous book) - squeezing out a little more life about these lives.
I'm not sure how you read a book like this. Do you read one death/life a day? Surely reading too many entries and feeling the bodies pile up in your mind leads to something unsettling. Or perhaps it is ironically comforting, as we begin to recognize how our lives are so similar through all of our differences.
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