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The Book of Grief and Hamburgers
Winner of the 2023 Trillium Book Award for best book published in Ontario in 2022.
A poignant meditation on mortality from a beloved Canadian poet A writer friend once pointed out that whenever Stuart Ross got close to something heavy and "real" in a poem, a hamburger would inevitably appear for comic relief. In this hybrid essay/memoir/poetic meditation, Ross shoves aside the heaping plate of burgers to wrestle with what it means to grieve the people one loves and what it means to go on living in the face of an enormous accumulation of loss. Written during the second wave of the COVID-19 pandemic, shortly after the sudden death of his brother left him the last living member of his family and as a catastrophic diagnosis meant anticipating the death of his closest friend, this meditation on mortality -- a kind of literary shiva -- is Ross's most personal book to date. More than a catalogue of losses, The Book of Grief and Hamburgers is a moving act of resistance against self-annihilation and a desperate attempt to embrace all that was good in his relationships with those most dear to him.
A poignant meditation on mortality from a beloved Canadian poet A writer friend once pointed out that whenever Stuart Ross got close to something heavy and "real" in a poem, a hamburger would inevitably appear for comic relief. In this hybrid essay/memoir/poetic meditation, Ross shoves aside the heaping plate of burgers to wrestle with what it means to grieve the people one loves and what it means to go on living in the face of an enormous accumulation of loss. Written during the second wave of the COVID-19 pandemic, shortly after the sudden death of his brother left him the last living member of his family and as a catastrophic diagnosis meant anticipating the death of his closest friend, this meditation on mortality -- a kind of literary shiva -- is Ross's most personal book to date. More than a catalogue of losses, The Book of Grief and Hamburgers is a moving act of resistance against self-annihilation and a desperate attempt to embrace all that was good in his relationships with those most dear to him.
152 pages, Paperback
First published April 5, 2022
4 people are currently reading
160 people want to read
About the author
Stuart Ross
38 books124 followersStuart Ross published his first literary pamphlet on the photocopier in his dad’s office one night in 1979. Through the 1980s, he stood on Toronto’s Yonge Street wearing signs like “Writer Going To Hell: Buy My Books,” selling over 7,000 poetry and fiction chapbooks.
A tireless literary press activist, he is the co-founder of the Toronto Small Press Book Fair and now a founding member of the Meet the Presses collective. He had his own imprint, a stuart ross book, at Mansfield Press for a decade, and was Fiction & Poetry Editor at This Magazine for eight years. In fall 2017, he launched a new poetry imprint, A Feed Dog Book, through Anvil Press.
Stuart has edited several small literary magazines, including Mondo Hunkamooga: A Journal of Small Press Stuff, Syd & Shirley, Who Torched Rancho Diablo?, Peter O’Toole: A Magazine of One-Line Poems, and, most recently HARDSCRABBLE.
He is the author of two collaborative novels, two solo novels, two collections of stories, and twelve full-length poetry books. He has also published two collections of essays, Confessions of a Small Press Racketeer and Further Confessions of a Small Press Racketeer (both from Anvil Press), and edited the anthology Surreal Estate: 13 Canadian Poets Under the Influence (The Mercury Press) and co-edited Rogue Stimulus: The Stephen Harper Holiday Anthology for a Prorogued Parliament (Mansfield Press).
Stuart has taught writing workshops across Canada and works one-on-one with authors on their manuscripts. He lives in Cobourg, Ontario. In spring 2009, Freehand Books released his first short-story collection in more than a decade, Buying Cigarettes for the Dog, to almost unanimous critical acclaim.
Stuart was the fall 2010 writer-in-residence at Queen's University in Kingston, Ontario, and the winter 2021 writer-in-residence at the University of Ottawa.
In 2017, Stuart won the eighth annual Battle of the Bards, presented by the International Festival of Authors and NOW Magazine. In spring 2023, Stuart received the biggest book award in Ontario, the Trillium Book Prize, for his memoir The Book of Grief and Hamburgers. In fall 2019, Stuart was awarded the Harbourfront Festival Prize for his contributions to Canadian literature and literary community. His other awards include the Canadian Jewish Literary Prize for Poetry and the ReLit Award for Short Fiction. His work has been translated into Russian, French, Spanish, Estonian, Slovene, and Nynorsk.
Stuart is currently working on ten book projects.
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April 12, 2022
What is grief? Is this grief?
i picked this book up on the first day of april, thinking it would be a fine way to celebrate the start of national poetry month.
turns out, it was a fine way to celebrate april fool's day, because this is not a poetry collection.
i don't know why i assumed this was poetry. i have read five other books by stuart ross, and only two of them have been poetry, but his prose always seems filtered through a poetic sensibility, emphasizing cadence and imagery and even the way he lays it out on the page is verse-shaped:
or maybe that's all just the rationalization of an april fool.
i also don't know why i thought it was such a great idea to read a book about grief so close to my own personal grief-anniversary, but decisions were made, tears were shed, and here we are.
this book is short enough that it can be read in one little sitting, but that's not to say it ought to be read that way—quite the contrary.
it's sad and beautiful and meditative, and it needs time to work its way into your soft little feeling bits, the way sand niggles at an oysterbody with, "why are you crying? why are you crying?" until the oyster suffocates all that emotional shit into an impenetrable pearl and gets on with its life.
not a great analogy, but a decent life lesson.
anyway, grief. death has taken a lot of stuart ross' people: family, friends, mentors, dogs, and even though writers are meant to take all the universal experiences of life and distill them into art, stu has some emotional roadblocks when it comes to the experience of grief.
the premise of this collection of...essays? prose poetry? thoughts? is that stuart ross—the affable canadian vegetarian poet—has an unusual writer-tic: whenever his work skews too close to something uncomfortable or "heavy," a hamburger is sure to find its way into the mix.
here, hamburgers are code for grief, and, as he tries—repeatedly—to wrap words around his "enormous accumulation of loss," inevitably he veers off into a hamburgery tangent.
it should be jarring, the incongruous image of a hamburger defusing the emotional tension with comic relief, pulling back to keep grief at arm's length, but once you internalize the subtext, the hamburgers become, somehow, even more emotionally resonant.
this collection is a series of digressive memories, ruminations, anecdotes, but they keep coming back to hamburgers, and he keeps finding clever and affecting ways to talk about grief without talking about grief.
in one piece, he revisits a poem he wrote nearly two decades ago, whose narrator is a hamburger. he's going through and critiquing it and it isn't until the closing lines that he remembers what the poem is about.
but it's not all hamburgers and suppressing the painful examinations of loss, it's also full of wisdom:
reading this while feeling hyper-vulnerable by my own calendar-reminder of loss was therapeutic and reassuring, and it left me feeling a little scoured afterwards.
for someone who isn't sure they've ever truly experienced grief, this book pulsates with it.
in these pages, we are confronted by the unexpected pathos in a stapler. i think the first time i cried whilst reading this book was the last sentence of page 18. it's not even a sad line—it wraps up an almost entirely factual piece about c.s. lewis, but it's the buildup to that line, the tonal shock as ross shifts the reader back into the place where his grief lives with five emphatically neutral words that could have been taken from lewis' wikipedia page, but are—when contextually connected to what seemed like a non sequitur on the previous page—absolutely fucking devastating.
i mean, but that's grief, innit? you're going about your life, doing something completely ordinary, when suddenly something resonates, twanging a memory or a mood, and you're caught off guard and left absolutely walloped.
there are several interstitial bits in-between the longer pieces—poems (his own and others'—take THAT, poetry month! i have honored you after all!), fragments of song lyrics or the last words of famous people with the word "hamburger" inserted somewhere, and, in an admirably determined stalling tactic (game recognizes game/staller recognizes staller), searching for the word "hamburger" in other people's work.
it's the kind of book you can pick up and revisit—and i already have—rereading a passage here and there. it's moving, elegiac, and deeply sad, but it's also a comfort, and i hope that writing it was a comfort to him, too.
come to my blog!
i picked this book up on the first day of april, thinking it would be a fine way to celebrate the start of national poetry month.
turns out, it was a fine way to celebrate april fool's day, because this is not a poetry collection.
i don't know why i assumed this was poetry. i have read five other books by stuart ross, and only two of them have been poetry, but his prose always seems filtered through a poetic sensibility, emphasizing cadence and imagery and even the way he lays it out on the page is verse-shaped:
or maybe that's all just the rationalization of an april fool.
i also don't know why i thought it was such a great idea to read a book about grief so close to my own personal grief-anniversary, but decisions were made, tears were shed, and here we are.
this book is short enough that it can be read in one little sitting, but that's not to say it ought to be read that way—quite the contrary.
it's sad and beautiful and meditative, and it needs time to work its way into your soft little feeling bits, the way sand niggles at an oysterbody with, "why are you crying? why are you crying?" until the oyster suffocates all that emotional shit into an impenetrable pearl and gets on with its life.
not a great analogy, but a decent life lesson.
anyway, grief. death has taken a lot of stuart ross' people: family, friends, mentors, dogs, and even though writers are meant to take all the universal experiences of life and distill them into art, stu has some emotional roadblocks when it comes to the experience of grief.
the premise of this collection of...essays? prose poetry? thoughts? is that stuart ross—the affable canadian vegetarian poet—has an unusual writer-tic: whenever his work skews too close to something uncomfortable or "heavy," a hamburger is sure to find its way into the mix.
here, hamburgers are code for grief, and, as he tries—repeatedly—to wrap words around his "enormous accumulation of loss," inevitably he veers off into a hamburgery tangent.
It may be that I have grieved and grieved, but I did not recognize it because I don't know what grief is. I have felt pain in my chest and at the same time an unfulfillable longing. Tears have trickled down my cheeks. I am a man of sixty-one and tears often trickle down my cheeks. I sob and curse.
I don't know if this is anger or frustration or sadness. I don't know if it is sadness, the degree of sadness that reaches the depths that people identify as "grief."
Do you like pickles on your hamburger? Mayo? I've got some grainy mustard in the fridge. Pull up a chair.
it should be jarring, the incongruous image of a hamburger defusing the emotional tension with comic relief, pulling back to keep grief at arm's length, but once you internalize the subtext, the hamburgers become, somehow, even more emotionally resonant.
this collection is a series of digressive memories, ruminations, anecdotes, but they keep coming back to hamburgers, and he keeps finding clever and affecting ways to talk about grief without talking about grief.
in one piece, he revisits a poem he wrote nearly two decades ago, whose narrator is a hamburger. he's going through and critiquing it and it isn't until the closing lines that he remembers what the poem is about.
It's the only thing I've ever written about 9/11. And it is jam-packed with hamburgers.
but it's not all hamburgers and suppressing the painful examinations of loss, it's also full of wisdom:
Michael, I worry that I am too tired from grieving to grieve for you too.
But at the same time, I don't even know if I have grieved. I still can't figure out exactly what grieving is. Maybe because it's a thing that doesn't seem to ever end. If I grieved right, wouldn't it end? If it's a constant state, isn't it just living?
reading this while feeling hyper-vulnerable by my own calendar-reminder of loss was therapeutic and reassuring, and it left me feeling a little scoured afterwards.
for someone who isn't sure they've ever truly experienced grief, this book pulsates with it.
in these pages, we are confronted by the unexpected pathos in a stapler. i think the first time i cried whilst reading this book was the last sentence of page 18. it's not even a sad line—it wraps up an almost entirely factual piece about c.s. lewis, but it's the buildup to that line, the tonal shock as ross shifts the reader back into the place where his grief lives with five emphatically neutral words that could have been taken from lewis' wikipedia page, but are—when contextually connected to what seemed like a non sequitur on the previous page—absolutely fucking devastating.
i mean, but that's grief, innit? you're going about your life, doing something completely ordinary, when suddenly something resonates, twanging a memory or a mood, and you're caught off guard and left absolutely walloped.
there are several interstitial bits in-between the longer pieces—poems (his own and others'—take THAT, poetry month! i have honored you after all!), fragments of song lyrics or the last words of famous people with the word "hamburger" inserted somewhere, and, in an admirably determined stalling tactic (game recognizes game/staller recognizes staller), searching for the word "hamburger" in other people's work.
To search for a single word in a physical book is time-consuming. If you recall the particular word, you may remember that it appeared, for example, in the top third of a left-hand page somewhere in the first half of the book. But with electronic books, you can just do a search.
The word hamburger does not appear in A Grief Observed.
The word burger does not appear in A Grief Observed.
C.S. Lewis does not veer from his subject matter; he does not hide or evade. There are no hamburgers, culinary or metaphorical, in his book A Grief Observed.
As I write these words, I wonder when I will turn unflinchingly to my own grief in this book. That is the particular corner I am trying to paint myself into. But I worry that I may be too clever for myself. Or too weak.
it's the kind of book you can pick up and revisit—and i already have—rereading a passage here and there. it's moving, elegiac, and deeply sad, but it's also a comfort, and i hope that writing it was a comfort to him, too.
This book feels like one big hamburger. My intention was to make myself face things I don't think I've succeeding in facing...I want to force myself to come to terms. That's what I'm trying to do here.
Won't you please join me?
come to my blog!
April 17, 2022
Wait: Am I grieving yet?
Grief and Hamburgers is ultimately a good book about grief, but it took me a little while to get the hang of it. . . or the sizzle of it. As you get older you lose more and more of your friends and family and Stuart Ross makes this clear. The hamburgers? Over the years, Ross inserted references to hamburgers into his work whenever he became too uncomfortable to talk directly about grief and similar issues. So that happens here, in this short book, which is not a collection of poems but sort of stream-of-conscious serpentine reflections and ramblings that are like talking about hamburgers; they are most often a distraction from the Important Thing that he increasingly faces (or wants to avoid on some level facing): Loss. And he lists all of his losses here that he can think of, including dear pets, though he can never quite get to what grieving really is for him:
“It may be that I have grieved and grieved, but I did not recognize it because I don't know what grief is. I have felt pain in my chest and at the same time an unfulfillable longing. Tears have trickled down my cheeks. I am a man of sixty-one and tears often trickle down my cheeks. I sob and curse.
I don't know if this is anger or frustration or sadness. I don't know if it is sadness, the degree of sadness that reaches the depths that people identify as ‘grief.’
Do you like pickles on your hamburger? Mayo? I've got some grainy mustard in the fridge. Pull up a chair.”
Here’s the way of it, the almost absurdist logic of it: I was thinking about my friend Michael the other day. He died two months ago. I miss him. I wish I could play chess with him again. Do you know who also played chess? C.S. Lewis. Lewis wrote perhaps the most famous book on grief, A Grief Observed, which he initially published under a pseudonym, and folks actually gave him a copy because of the loss of his wife, Joy. Lewis was an atheist who became a Christian. Joy was a Jew who became Christian. I don’t know if they liked eating hamburgers together. I am reading Lewis now. Lewis never detracts from talking about his grief. No hamburgers. You know you can get a hamburger without a bun in some restaurants? But I have not had a hamburger since 1996. I’m a vegetarian. And an atheist Jew. I would give everything in the world for one more chance to talk to my mother. And Michael. Okay, just my mother if I get one choice.
So he's making it clear he is actively avoiding the pain. And he does this kind of thing throughout:
"Inside a hamburger is too dark to read." As if, what if other writers also inserted hamburgers into their writing?
I was referred to as an “honorary Jew” for a few years when I lived in New York (because I was married to a Jewish woman then) and it was there I attended several Jewish bar mitzvahs, weddings, and funerals. I can say I never laughed as hard in a total of ten Dutch Calvinist ceremonial events as much as I did “sitting shiva” for my first time in a Long Island condo. This is what I think I know about being Jewish: Someone dies, you cry, you laugh til you cry, you cry til you laugh. And so much food is brought that you could eat yourself to death. As a non-Jew, I may be presumptuous here. Your own actual Jewish experience might be very different than my limited one! Maybe you never laugh, I don't know.
But for me Jewish weddings are an occasion for joy, so different than what I grew up with experiencing weddings in my western Michigan Dutch Reformed Church tradition (respectful, gray, serious, no alcohol, no dancing, receptions always held in church basements served cake and jello and coffee and ham buns by church ladies). So listening to Ross read his own book was a little like sitting shiva, in my experience, though I never actually laughed aloud while he read. You know he’s not really wanting you to laugh. He wants you to really hear him through his obfuscations and distractions and jokes. Okay, he really does want you to laugh at him at times, and to find your own way to laugh in and through your own grief.
I have a brother who makes jokes when any serious subject such as death or dying comes up, so I even have some gentile experience with this kind of sleight of hand, this kind of misdirection. Let's just say that this may be my brother’s and Ross’s way of grieving.
Grief and Hamburgers is ultimately a good book about grief, but it took me a little while to get the hang of it. . . or the sizzle of it. As you get older you lose more and more of your friends and family and Stuart Ross makes this clear. The hamburgers? Over the years, Ross inserted references to hamburgers into his work whenever he became too uncomfortable to talk directly about grief and similar issues. So that happens here, in this short book, which is not a collection of poems but sort of stream-of-conscious serpentine reflections and ramblings that are like talking about hamburgers; they are most often a distraction from the Important Thing that he increasingly faces (or wants to avoid on some level facing): Loss. And he lists all of his losses here that he can think of, including dear pets, though he can never quite get to what grieving really is for him:
“It may be that I have grieved and grieved, but I did not recognize it because I don't know what grief is. I have felt pain in my chest and at the same time an unfulfillable longing. Tears have trickled down my cheeks. I am a man of sixty-one and tears often trickle down my cheeks. I sob and curse.
I don't know if this is anger or frustration or sadness. I don't know if it is sadness, the degree of sadness that reaches the depths that people identify as ‘grief.’
Do you like pickles on your hamburger? Mayo? I've got some grainy mustard in the fridge. Pull up a chair.”
Here’s the way of it, the almost absurdist logic of it: I was thinking about my friend Michael the other day. He died two months ago. I miss him. I wish I could play chess with him again. Do you know who also played chess? C.S. Lewis. Lewis wrote perhaps the most famous book on grief, A Grief Observed, which he initially published under a pseudonym, and folks actually gave him a copy because of the loss of his wife, Joy. Lewis was an atheist who became a Christian. Joy was a Jew who became Christian. I don’t know if they liked eating hamburgers together. I am reading Lewis now. Lewis never detracts from talking about his grief. No hamburgers. You know you can get a hamburger without a bun in some restaurants? But I have not had a hamburger since 1996. I’m a vegetarian. And an atheist Jew. I would give everything in the world for one more chance to talk to my mother. And Michael. Okay, just my mother if I get one choice.
So he's making it clear he is actively avoiding the pain. And he does this kind of thing throughout:
"Inside a hamburger is too dark to read." As if, what if other writers also inserted hamburgers into their writing?
I was referred to as an “honorary Jew” for a few years when I lived in New York (because I was married to a Jewish woman then) and it was there I attended several Jewish bar mitzvahs, weddings, and funerals. I can say I never laughed as hard in a total of ten Dutch Calvinist ceremonial events as much as I did “sitting shiva” for my first time in a Long Island condo. This is what I think I know about being Jewish: Someone dies, you cry, you laugh til you cry, you cry til you laugh. And so much food is brought that you could eat yourself to death. As a non-Jew, I may be presumptuous here. Your own actual Jewish experience might be very different than my limited one! Maybe you never laugh, I don't know.
But for me Jewish weddings are an occasion for joy, so different than what I grew up with experiencing weddings in my western Michigan Dutch Reformed Church tradition (respectful, gray, serious, no alcohol, no dancing, receptions always held in church basements served cake and jello and coffee and ham buns by church ladies). So listening to Ross read his own book was a little like sitting shiva, in my experience, though I never actually laughed aloud while he read. You know he’s not really wanting you to laugh. He wants you to really hear him through his obfuscations and distractions and jokes. Okay, he really does want you to laugh at him at times, and to find your own way to laugh in and through your own grief.
I have a brother who makes jokes when any serious subject such as death or dying comes up, so I even have some gentile experience with this kind of sleight of hand, this kind of misdirection. Let's just say that this may be my brother’s and Ross’s way of grieving.
January 31, 2022
I had a really difficult time engaging with this book, since it's about a man having trouble engaging with his grief for his family, friends, loved ones, and colleagues that have died over the past years and decades. It was really well written and it was an interesting window into the life of a current day poet and the thoughts and (repressed?) feelings of someone who doesn't know how to let themselves grieve, but it was hard to feel the stakes since I didn't feel the strong connection that he did to those who dies and because he couldn't engage with grief it was hard to get that emotional impact by proxy! That said, it was fascinating seeing his writing elide (to hamburgers frequently) every time the emotion looked like it would break through. I'm not sure I've ever read anything like this before.
**Thanks to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for a free copy in exchange for an honest review.
**Thanks to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for a free copy in exchange for an honest review.
September 24, 2023
This is beautiful. A friend sent this to me, knowing that I've had a tough year, full of sadness and grief. It was exactly what I needed. If you've lost people in your life and "good vibes only" isn't working for you, reading Stuart Ross's own struggles with knowing how to grieve and process the mortality of everyone he loves will help you feel seen.
April 13, 2022
Title:
The Book of Grief and Hamburgers
Author: Stuart Ross
Genre: Poetry
Rating: 3.25
Pub Date: April 5, 2022
Thanks to ECW Press for sending me an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
T H R E E • W O R D S
Personal • Poetic • Empathetic
📖 S Y N O P S I S
The Book of Grief and Hamburgers, written during the second wave of Covid-19, shortly after the death of beloved Canadian poet, Stuart Ross's, brother, is a meditation on grief and mortality. It wrestles with what it means to grieve those we love, and what it means to go on living. As a whole, Ross is attempting to make sense of his life and the losses.
💭 T H O U G H T S
With a mix of prose, poetry and stream of consciousness, the author explores the complexity of his thoughts and feelings. For me, the structure worked especially well. While it can be seen as disjointed, in my opinion, the flow mirrors what it is like to grieve - not everything always make sense, and there's no linear direction. This book is a reminder that we are not alone in grief, despite grief being an extremely personal journey. Our western society has the tendency of shying away from anything hard, and over the years, Ross has often used hamburgers as comic relief. But no longer. This account shows there's no wrong way grieve and that we need to grief the way that works for us.
I had a bit of a difficult time engaging directly with the book, yet it was still enjoyable. This isn't a book you'll come away having gained a great insight, rather it's a deeply personal (at times almost autobiographical) and heartfelt meditation of grief.
📚 R E C O M M E N D • T O
• anyone recently bereaved
• abstract poetry fans
⚠️ CW: grief, death
🔖 F A V O U R I T E • Q U O T E S
"But how strange it feels to forge into the future, when it is a future that my closest friend will not experience."
Author: Stuart Ross
Genre: Poetry
Rating: 3.25
Pub Date: April 5, 2022
Thanks to ECW Press for sending me an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
T H R E E • W O R D S
Personal • Poetic • Empathetic
📖 S Y N O P S I S
The Book of Grief and Hamburgers, written during the second wave of Covid-19, shortly after the death of beloved Canadian poet, Stuart Ross's, brother, is a meditation on grief and mortality. It wrestles with what it means to grieve those we love, and what it means to go on living. As a whole, Ross is attempting to make sense of his life and the losses.
💭 T H O U G H T S
With a mix of prose, poetry and stream of consciousness, the author explores the complexity of his thoughts and feelings. For me, the structure worked especially well. While it can be seen as disjointed, in my opinion, the flow mirrors what it is like to grieve - not everything always make sense, and there's no linear direction. This book is a reminder that we are not alone in grief, despite grief being an extremely personal journey. Our western society has the tendency of shying away from anything hard, and over the years, Ross has often used hamburgers as comic relief. But no longer. This account shows there's no wrong way grieve and that we need to grief the way that works for us.
I had a bit of a difficult time engaging directly with the book, yet it was still enjoyable. This isn't a book you'll come away having gained a great insight, rather it's a deeply personal (at times almost autobiographical) and heartfelt meditation of grief.
📚 R E C O M M E N D • T O
• anyone recently bereaved
• abstract poetry fans
⚠️ CW: grief, death
🔖 F A V O U R I T E • Q U O T E S
"But how strange it feels to forge into the future, when it is a future that my closest friend will not experience."
May 25, 2022
I did not know what to expect when I began this book. The vulnerability displayed was unexpected. I felt like Stuart Ross was personally talking to his reader(s), each and every one of us, sharing precious moments. I'm so use to Ross's zany phrasing and surreal approach to poems, yet even the insertion of the word hamburger seemed real, down to earth and understandable. This book was written with a heavy heart. Condolences to you Stuart Ross.
March 19, 2022
I really enjoyed listening to this audiobook narrated by the author! THE BOOK OF GRIEF AND HAMBURGERS by Stuart Ross is an emotionally devastating yet humorous book as he shares his thoughts on losing friends and family. A whole book about grief is very heavy to read and I appreciated all the hamburgers thrown in to lighten the mood. I haven’t read any of his poetry before but I’m so curious to do so now after reading this book. This is a book I couldn’t read all at once but it’s always interesting to read how people deal with grief.
Thank you to ECW Audio via NetGalley for my ALC!
Thank you to ECW Audio via NetGalley for my ALC!
June 27, 2023
this book is so creatively written and struck a cord with me.
as i’ve told many now, you know a book is good when you tear up on the go train. and that’s what i did. also, the author signed it for ME
it’s a canadian novel that is truly a special and artist piece.
as i’ve told many now, you know a book is good when you tear up on the go train. and that’s what i did. also, the author signed it for ME
it’s a canadian novel that is truly a special and artist piece.
October 6, 2021
Hamburgers have featured heavily in Stuart Ross’ poems over the years. Usually introduced, according to the poet himself, when emotions were running high and some levity was needed, they work overtime in this remarkable book.
In the mostly autobiographical, aptly-titled “The Book of Grief and Hamburgers”, Stuart Ross discusses vegetarianism, Jewishness, Kafka, hamburgers and even people called Hamburger, but mostly he writes about grief; grief following the death of his brother, (something I can relate to), the death of friends and about famous writers who wrote about grief….and hamburgers. A book-length essay, written in verses much like a long poem, the text flows easily, its length unnoticed or irrelevant, like a conversation with an old friend. Famous quotes from films and notable last words pepper the book, albeit after having been “hamburger-fied” (my word for having key words removed and replaced with “hamburger”. Drawings, family photos and poems by other poets also make poignant appearances.
If you hadn’t already guessed, this is a tough book. As it progresses, the reader gets the impression that Ross is using hamburgers as a “safe space” (to use a modern term) to avoid facing his grief. And there is a lot of it, as friend after friend contacts him to tell him they are either ill or already facing death. Being surrounded by death prompts him to consider suicide. Correctly identifying grief as more of a process of coming to terms, he invites the reader along for the ride. He asks difficult questions - what were his brothers’ last thoughts? Did they know they were dying? Questions that we have undoubtedly asked ourselves at such times.
Ross makes the profound and affecting observation that he is alive in a world where he will never talk with his parents or brothers again, and wishes he could not be alive himself. At one point he realises that he is procrastinating about facing his own grief in the book, but the reader is happy to stick with him, especially when it’s this well-written.
This stunning work is a eulogy for those who have already passed, and a pained scream for connection with those who are still living. Cathartic, profound, remorseful and brilliant, “The Book of Grief and Hamburgers” is about grief and learning how to grieve, about seeing someone for what might be the last time, and as someone who has been very recently bereaved, at times the book is almost too much to bear. Anyone holding out for a happy ending will be disappointed, but as a way of working through grief this book is a therapy session that you’ll be glad you signed up for.
In the mostly autobiographical, aptly-titled “The Book of Grief and Hamburgers”, Stuart Ross discusses vegetarianism, Jewishness, Kafka, hamburgers and even people called Hamburger, but mostly he writes about grief; grief following the death of his brother, (something I can relate to), the death of friends and about famous writers who wrote about grief….and hamburgers. A book-length essay, written in verses much like a long poem, the text flows easily, its length unnoticed or irrelevant, like a conversation with an old friend. Famous quotes from films and notable last words pepper the book, albeit after having been “hamburger-fied” (my word for having key words removed and replaced with “hamburger”. Drawings, family photos and poems by other poets also make poignant appearances.
If you hadn’t already guessed, this is a tough book. As it progresses, the reader gets the impression that Ross is using hamburgers as a “safe space” (to use a modern term) to avoid facing his grief. And there is a lot of it, as friend after friend contacts him to tell him they are either ill or already facing death. Being surrounded by death prompts him to consider suicide. Correctly identifying grief as more of a process of coming to terms, he invites the reader along for the ride. He asks difficult questions - what were his brothers’ last thoughts? Did they know they were dying? Questions that we have undoubtedly asked ourselves at such times.
Ross makes the profound and affecting observation that he is alive in a world where he will never talk with his parents or brothers again, and wishes he could not be alive himself. At one point he realises that he is procrastinating about facing his own grief in the book, but the reader is happy to stick with him, especially when it’s this well-written.
This stunning work is a eulogy for those who have already passed, and a pained scream for connection with those who are still living. Cathartic, profound, remorseful and brilliant, “The Book of Grief and Hamburgers” is about grief and learning how to grieve, about seeing someone for what might be the last time, and as someone who has been very recently bereaved, at times the book is almost too much to bear. Anyone holding out for a happy ending will be disappointed, but as a way of working through grief this book is a therapy session that you’ll be glad you signed up for.
January 22, 2022
My thanks to NetGalley and the publisher ECW Press for an advanced copy of this essay collection on grief, life and hamburgers.
To Freud a cigar was sometimes just a cigar, but to Stuart Ross, poet, essayist, publisher and writer of The Book of Grief and Hamburgers, a hamburger can sometimes be a stand in for grief, love, loss, pain, wonder, and fear. A simple meat patty on a bun allows Mr. Ross to write about the recent loss of both his brother, and last surviving family member and and close friend. Mr. Ross "grills" his psyche to find out what these losses have done to him, how he can continue, and how amazingly life goes on.
A friend once mentioned that when things got heavy or "real" in poems by Mr. Ross a hamburger would appear. Usually for comic relief, maybe to hide something more. This book is a essay collection, with some prose poem scattered among a memoir. The work is hard to categorize. However it is powerful in both the grief he writes about feeling, and how he writes about going on. The Year of Magical Thinking as written by Wimpy, the friend of the sailor Popeye in the Thimble Theatre comic strips. There are many burger references, film references, book and poems, which for someone who loves to get to know someone from what they enjoy I loved.
I was unfamiliar with Mr. Ross as a poet, but his writing here is very strong, and flows well. As one travels through life it does amaze how many people that have been apart of your journey, fall away and leave, before our journey ends. Mr. Ross discusses this, as being the last member of his family, in a sometimes raw, sometimes humourous way, that I'll be honest made me cry quite a bit. I was glad he was persisting, and writing this is a way of going on. I hope he is doing well.
In my opinion this is a good book for a person who is recently bereaved, but with some caveats. The person might not take the book in the way that Mr. Ross meant. Death and flame broiling might be a little too much for someone. However the book really is a very good meditation on loss, and how to get through. The poet endures, so will you. And someday someone will raise a hamburger in our honor, I hope that person will be ok with that loss.
To Freud a cigar was sometimes just a cigar, but to Stuart Ross, poet, essayist, publisher and writer of The Book of Grief and Hamburgers, a hamburger can sometimes be a stand in for grief, love, loss, pain, wonder, and fear. A simple meat patty on a bun allows Mr. Ross to write about the recent loss of both his brother, and last surviving family member and and close friend. Mr. Ross "grills" his psyche to find out what these losses have done to him, how he can continue, and how amazingly life goes on.
A friend once mentioned that when things got heavy or "real" in poems by Mr. Ross a hamburger would appear. Usually for comic relief, maybe to hide something more. This book is a essay collection, with some prose poem scattered among a memoir. The work is hard to categorize. However it is powerful in both the grief he writes about feeling, and how he writes about going on. The Year of Magical Thinking as written by Wimpy, the friend of the sailor Popeye in the Thimble Theatre comic strips. There are many burger references, film references, book and poems, which for someone who loves to get to know someone from what they enjoy I loved.
I was unfamiliar with Mr. Ross as a poet, but his writing here is very strong, and flows well. As one travels through life it does amaze how many people that have been apart of your journey, fall away and leave, before our journey ends. Mr. Ross discusses this, as being the last member of his family, in a sometimes raw, sometimes humourous way, that I'll be honest made me cry quite a bit. I was glad he was persisting, and writing this is a way of going on. I hope he is doing well.
In my opinion this is a good book for a person who is recently bereaved, but with some caveats. The person might not take the book in the way that Mr. Ross meant. Death and flame broiling might be a little too much for someone. However the book really is a very good meditation on loss, and how to get through. The poet endures, so will you. And someday someone will raise a hamburger in our honor, I hope that person will be ok with that loss.
April 2, 2022
Perhaps someone familiar with Ross’s ‘writings’ might find an appeal to this, but certainly I didn’t.
I feel for how many people he has lost in his lifetime - and he being little older than I myself. I appreciate the pain of he being the only person in his family ‘who will have died in the right order’ (p34). And I can relate to the phone calls after midnight - as it can only mean that ‘someone is in the hospital or is dead’ (p99), or wishing to speak to someone just ‘one more time’ (p117).
But in as much as individual parts resonate, on the whole this comes across as little more than a collection of random ‘bits and pieces’ - I’m not even sure how to properly describe them. The sections where he focuses on his family are deeply moving, but so much is about other people who have figured in his life - and while I am saddened, as a human, that they have passed and that he is grieving them - I have no connection and nothing vested. I need more.
Then there is the text itself, which is very disjointed… and the recurring ‘hamburger(s)’ - nominally to break the tension, to provide some ‘relief’ - do/es nothing for me. I certainly get that grief does not necessarily follow a linear course… so why should a book about grief? True. But… I need more structure.
There is a reader for this, I am sure. That person is not me however…
I feel for how many people he has lost in his lifetime - and he being little older than I myself. I appreciate the pain of he being the only person in his family ‘who will have died in the right order’ (p34). And I can relate to the phone calls after midnight - as it can only mean that ‘someone is in the hospital or is dead’ (p99), or wishing to speak to someone just ‘one more time’ (p117).
But in as much as individual parts resonate, on the whole this comes across as little more than a collection of random ‘bits and pieces’ - I’m not even sure how to properly describe them. The sections where he focuses on his family are deeply moving, but so much is about other people who have figured in his life - and while I am saddened, as a human, that they have passed and that he is grieving them - I have no connection and nothing vested. I need more.
Then there is the text itself, which is very disjointed… and the recurring ‘hamburger(s)’ - nominally to break the tension, to provide some ‘relief’ - do/es nothing for me. I certainly get that grief does not necessarily follow a linear course… so why should a book about grief? True. But… I need more structure.
There is a reader for this, I am sure. That person is not me however…
April 22, 2022
I really wanted to like this more than I did. Part of the issue was definitely the narration for me. It felt a little too formulaic, instead of filling the space of the poetry. Being that it was the author providing the narration, I wanted to feel more emotion than I got out of the readings.
I also didn't care for the hamburgers. I understood the point of it and loved the concept behind it, but often it made me feel like the text was choppy or veering off course.
However, all of this is a personal reflection and my appreciation for and understanding of loss and grief is different than that of the authors. I did love Ross' ability to weave in these deeper feelings with memoir-style stories and anecdotes. It created an idea of who he was in my head and helped develop his "character" when it came to matching him to his words. I did find myself doing a lot of reflection after pieces too which I enjoyed, anything that makes me think feels like it's worth my time.
I wouldn't say that this would be something I'd turn back to again, but I definitely suggest it as a representation of grief. It's exploration of the topic, and avoidance of, provides an interesting perspective. A solid three stars, but only from a personal standpoint. Thank you to NetGalley for the advanced copy.
I also didn't care for the hamburgers. I understood the point of it and loved the concept behind it, but often it made me feel like the text was choppy or veering off course.
However, all of this is a personal reflection and my appreciation for and understanding of loss and grief is different than that of the authors. I did love Ross' ability to weave in these deeper feelings with memoir-style stories and anecdotes. It created an idea of who he was in my head and helped develop his "character" when it came to matching him to his words. I did find myself doing a lot of reflection after pieces too which I enjoyed, anything that makes me think feels like it's worth my time.
I wouldn't say that this would be something I'd turn back to again, but I definitely suggest it as a representation of grief. It's exploration of the topic, and avoidance of, provides an interesting perspective. A solid three stars, but only from a personal standpoint. Thank you to NetGalley for the advanced copy.
November 11, 2021
This is a strange little book. Stuart Ross uses the motif of hamburgers to try and come to terms with his grief at the loss of his brother during COVID and to tackle the floodgates of grief that open because of it. He looks back at his family losses and the wider losses of his friends and community and tries to make sense of what is happening to friends who have been diagnosed with terminal illness.
He chose hamburgers because they are a recurring theme in his writing and a friend noted that he uses the term to avoid having to express complex emotions and sadness, so it seemed apt to test it out in this meditation on loss.
It isn't really a book that teaches you anything or comes to any meaningful conclusions. It's more a deeply personal, heartfelt wander around a subject that is notoriously hard to talk about and come to terms with. I liked it because it didn't have any big life lessons to give. If there is any bigger message to take here it is that grief is a uniquely personal event and that we can mourn and grieve however we like.
He chose hamburgers because they are a recurring theme in his writing and a friend noted that he uses the term to avoid having to express complex emotions and sadness, so it seemed apt to test it out in this meditation on loss.
It isn't really a book that teaches you anything or comes to any meaningful conclusions. It's more a deeply personal, heartfelt wander around a subject that is notoriously hard to talk about and come to terms with. I liked it because it didn't have any big life lessons to give. If there is any bigger message to take here it is that grief is a uniquely personal event and that we can mourn and grieve however we like.
January 11, 2022
I received this book from a publishing company (ECW Press) in return for a review . I have to start by saying that this is not a book that I would have purchased for myself, and ,if not for the fact that I had commited to reviewing this book, I would not have finished reading it.
While the book had some interesting portions and some thought provoking prose, I found it very disjointed.
The author writes of grief for people lost, regrets for things not said. briefly touches on relationships with friends and family members who have passed, and discusses information surrounding the passing of some of the aforementioned people.
I have not read Stuart Ross prior to this book and that may be why the hamburger reference was lost on me. I do understand(because it is explained in the book) that he uses "hamburger" as a means of dealing with difficult subjects, but all in all, this book just did not make sense to me.
While the book had some interesting portions and some thought provoking prose, I found it very disjointed.
The author writes of grief for people lost, regrets for things not said. briefly touches on relationships with friends and family members who have passed, and discusses information surrounding the passing of some of the aforementioned people.
I have not read Stuart Ross prior to this book and that may be why the hamburger reference was lost on me. I do understand(because it is explained in the book) that he uses "hamburger" as a means of dealing with difficult subjects, but all in all, this book just did not make sense to me.
March 8, 2022
"Inside a hamburger is too dark to read." -From The Book of Grief and Hamburgers
3 stars
This is a personal, disjointed collection, quite different than most poetry. The author hasn't really addressed their grief, and backs away before getting too deep into anything; demanding comic relief by substituting the word hamburger in for things. A lot. It creates a disconnect for the reader with the subject matter. I'm someone who cries at the drop of a hat for anything sad, but I made it through the whole thing with dry eyes because you never really sat with any feeling. A lot of choices made are painstakingly explained to the reader, like how they are using present tense because they wished the person was still alive. I wish the author trusted the intelligence of the reader more.
Thank you to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.
3 stars
This is a personal, disjointed collection, quite different than most poetry. The author hasn't really addressed their grief, and backs away before getting too deep into anything; demanding comic relief by substituting the word hamburger in for things. A lot. It creates a disconnect for the reader with the subject matter. I'm someone who cries at the drop of a hat for anything sad, but I made it through the whole thing with dry eyes because you never really sat with any feeling. A lot of choices made are painstakingly explained to the reader, like how they are using present tense because they wished the person was still alive. I wish the author trusted the intelligence of the reader more.
Thank you to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.
March 10, 2022
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for an opportunity to read "The Book of Grief and Other Hamburgers." I found the opening of the book compelling. I enjoyed the unexpected juxtaposition of grief and loss and lightness and "hamburgers." I had a hard time connecting with this text, however. I am not familiar with Ross' previous work, unfortunately. I think I would feel differently if I had read other work by Ross, or the authors he is grieving. I respect the art that Ross has created through his grief. While there are some elements of universality - grief, loss, survival - reading this felt a little bit like showing up at a party where you don't really know anybody. They seem great, but you just need more time to get to know them. Much respect to Ross and "The Book of Grief and Hamburgers." I'll try this again some time and maybe my perspective will shift/evolve a bit.
May 5, 2022
As someone who enjoys poetry in all forms and understands the waves of grief, this book was a decent listen for me.
Nothing absolutely changed my soul, but it was still worth the listen. I guess that's fair when the topic of grief is at hand, because everyone experiences and voices grief differently. It wasn't my particular grief language.
Nothing absolutely changed my soul, but it was still worth the listen. I guess that's fair when the topic of grief is at hand, because everyone experiences and voices grief differently. It wasn't my particular grief language.
July 7, 2022
Just saying, a darn hard read on the bus today. So many times I had to put the book down, take off my glass and stare into the distance thinking only of hamburgers, while the tears came.
Thank you so much for writing this!!
Thank you so much for writing this!!
January 29, 2022
Format of this work offers readers the opportunity to tackle a heavy subject in smaller, more manageable, pieces.
July 6, 2022
I didn't think I'd be able to read a book about grief right now. Too heavy, I thought. In April, I lost a dear friend, a phenomenal writer and a magnificent human being. So, I thought I'd read some "lighter" books and would eventually, when my mind was up for it, read The Book of Grief and Hamburgers by Stuart Ross. Because I know Stuart's work, I've enjoyed many of his books, and I knew this book would be a very good one.
It is. I admire Stuart Ross for writing it. And I'm thankful he did.
In it, he shares some very deep wounds. And that is a brave gift, I believe. Because when someone in your family dies, or a close friend dies, it feels impossible. The weight of loss is incalculable. But it can sometimes feel like too heavy a burden, one you may not be able to bear. Stuart Ross speaks to that in this book, after losing his entire family, and many dear and beautiful friends, as well as his beloved dog, Lily (a beloved family member as well of course). Ross lives near a lake. He admits he sometimes thinks about walking into the lake. And he's not a strong swimmer.
He acknowledges a feeling many of us have shared — how now can I go on? That takes courage. And, for the most part, Stuart Ross moves the humour to the side of the plate here. Yes, there are a few hamburgers on that plate, but mostly what he gives us is a huge portion of grief, and mourning, and reflections on what those two things even mean.
Sometimes we can use words like grief so often that they lose their meaning. Ross is aware of this. Time and again, he asks himself, "Is this grief?" He asks this of us as well.
Near the end of the book, Stuart Ross tells us he's a reading a book his therapist told him about; it's called Bereavement: Studies of Grief in Adult Life. Ross finds the book tedious, and so he jumps to the end and shares the ending paragraph, which honestly reads like way too many fancy, empty words from a textbook, not something someone experiencing severe mental duress would find comforting.
"Oh, fuck off," Ross writes.
I set down the book for a few minutes after that. I knew exactly how Mr. Ross felt, or pretty close anyhow, I think; in the same ball park — I would have gently tossed that book across a room.
But not The Book of Grief and Hamburgers. This is a hard book to read at times, but it's so honest and sincere and vulnerable, saying the things a lot of people think when a loved one dies, and going that extra bit further in describing what psychiatrists sometimes call "intrusive thoughts", but really they're very human thoughts. The sort that many people find difficult to say. And the unpleasant, candid details Stuart Ross shares with us — about his friends' last moments, his brothers' falling to the floor, his dog's last day, and so on — these are precious gifts as well. We will all experience such losses in our lives. Stuart Ross, in sharing so many personal moments from his own life, says, in a way, this, this is how I've gone on. Endured. Remained alive and sane. In Ross's case, "this" means words. Writing down the words. He's done that, and as often is the case with his writing, it looks simple (it's not) yet sounds wonderful, and poetic, and true.
This book is a generous gift. One I will think of fondly and gratefully for many years. And one I will likely tell my own therapist about. He likes it when I do that; he writes down the names of every book I find helpful, and he says he'll recommend them to other folks down the road. Which is wonderful, because this book should have legs, and a lot of people, I think, will benefit from reading it. And that just might keep someone else safely on shore. Thankfully. As hard as it may feel.
It is. I admire Stuart Ross for writing it. And I'm thankful he did.
In it, he shares some very deep wounds. And that is a brave gift, I believe. Because when someone in your family dies, or a close friend dies, it feels impossible. The weight of loss is incalculable. But it can sometimes feel like too heavy a burden, one you may not be able to bear. Stuart Ross speaks to that in this book, after losing his entire family, and many dear and beautiful friends, as well as his beloved dog, Lily (a beloved family member as well of course). Ross lives near a lake. He admits he sometimes thinks about walking into the lake. And he's not a strong swimmer.
He acknowledges a feeling many of us have shared — how now can I go on? That takes courage. And, for the most part, Stuart Ross moves the humour to the side of the plate here. Yes, there are a few hamburgers on that plate, but mostly what he gives us is a huge portion of grief, and mourning, and reflections on what those two things even mean.
Sometimes we can use words like grief so often that they lose their meaning. Ross is aware of this. Time and again, he asks himself, "Is this grief?" He asks this of us as well.
Near the end of the book, Stuart Ross tells us he's a reading a book his therapist told him about; it's called Bereavement: Studies of Grief in Adult Life. Ross finds the book tedious, and so he jumps to the end and shares the ending paragraph, which honestly reads like way too many fancy, empty words from a textbook, not something someone experiencing severe mental duress would find comforting.
"Oh, fuck off," Ross writes.
I set down the book for a few minutes after that. I knew exactly how Mr. Ross felt, or pretty close anyhow, I think; in the same ball park — I would have gently tossed that book across a room.
But not The Book of Grief and Hamburgers. This is a hard book to read at times, but it's so honest and sincere and vulnerable, saying the things a lot of people think when a loved one dies, and going that extra bit further in describing what psychiatrists sometimes call "intrusive thoughts", but really they're very human thoughts. The sort that many people find difficult to say. And the unpleasant, candid details Stuart Ross shares with us — about his friends' last moments, his brothers' falling to the floor, his dog's last day, and so on — these are precious gifts as well. We will all experience such losses in our lives. Stuart Ross, in sharing so many personal moments from his own life, says, in a way, this, this is how I've gone on. Endured. Remained alive and sane. In Ross's case, "this" means words. Writing down the words. He's done that, and as often is the case with his writing, it looks simple (it's not) yet sounds wonderful, and poetic, and true.
This book is a generous gift. One I will think of fondly and gratefully for many years. And one I will likely tell my own therapist about. He likes it when I do that; he writes down the names of every book I find helpful, and he says he'll recommend them to other folks down the road. Which is wonderful, because this book should have legs, and a lot of people, I think, will benefit from reading it. And that just might keep someone else safely on shore. Thankfully. As hard as it may feel.
March 23, 2022
I received this audiobook from NetGalley as an advanced listening copy (ALC). Thank you to NetGalley, ECW Press Audio, and Stuart Ross for allowing me to listen in exchange for my honest review.
I plan to review this audiobook with soft spoilers, so read at your own risk. My review style for audiobooks is to rate the book and the narration separately with the average being the final rating (i.e. a 3 star book with a 5 star narration= 4 star overall rating).
Narration:
Stuart Ross narrates his own memoir and that is the way I prefer it most of the time. There’s an authenticity to a memoir that is exacerbated when it is read by the author. Even if the author isn’t the best at narrating their own story, the vulnerability that comes along with it makes it so much better.
Narration: 4/5 stars
Story Structure:
This is a poetic memoir/essay about Stuart Ross, his methods of writing poetry, and his use of “hamburgers” in his work when things are getting a bit too bogged down. The word “hamburger” invokes a chuckle that helps ease tension when a subject is too intense.
Story: 4/5 stars
Overall:
This memoir is everything I want in one. It’s dryly funny, sarcastic, heartwarming, thought provoking, and tragic.
Overall rating: 4/5 stars
I plan to review this audiobook with soft spoilers, so read at your own risk. My review style for audiobooks is to rate the book and the narration separately with the average being the final rating (i.e. a 3 star book with a 5 star narration= 4 star overall rating).
Narration:
Stuart Ross narrates his own memoir and that is the way I prefer it most of the time. There’s an authenticity to a memoir that is exacerbated when it is read by the author. Even if the author isn’t the best at narrating their own story, the vulnerability that comes along with it makes it so much better.
Narration: 4/5 stars
Story Structure:
This is a poetic memoir/essay about Stuart Ross, his methods of writing poetry, and his use of “hamburgers” in his work when things are getting a bit too bogged down. The word “hamburger” invokes a chuckle that helps ease tension when a subject is too intense.
Story: 4/5 stars
Overall:
This memoir is everything I want in one. It’s dryly funny, sarcastic, heartwarming, thought provoking, and tragic.
Overall rating: 4/5 stars
Read
February 28, 2022Stuart Ross is the first to admit that "when things get a little too heavy," he's apt to throw a comic relief hamburger into his poetry. Ross's resolution is The Book of Grief and Hamburgers, abandoning the burger and accepting the "heavy"— too many losses and unresolved grief.
Somewhere between prose, poetry and stream of consciousness, Ross delves into the complexity of his thoughts and emotions in coping with lost family and friends. At the same time, he pays tribute to those remembered. Though the topic is still "heavy" and worthy of a hamburger or two, he handles his process of coming to grips with grief with humour and realism without overt sentimentality.
In his dreams, the past is present. During the mundane, reminders come and send present to past. He decries the disorderly; consoles himself that, when his day comes, it will be in the correct sequence. “Part of my grief,” says Ross, “perhaps, is wanting my mother, my father, my brothers. And also Richard Huttel, John Lavery, Dave McFadden, Nelson Ball and Lily — the dog in my adult life — to tell me what it’s like to be dead”.
The Book is thoroughly enjoyable — perhaps a strange description given the subject matter — and empathetic. More so, Ross’s story reassures us that we aren’t alone in the seeming insanity of grief.
Somewhere between prose, poetry and stream of consciousness, Ross delves into the complexity of his thoughts and emotions in coping with lost family and friends. At the same time, he pays tribute to those remembered. Though the topic is still "heavy" and worthy of a hamburger or two, he handles his process of coming to grips with grief with humour and realism without overt sentimentality.
In his dreams, the past is present. During the mundane, reminders come and send present to past. He decries the disorderly; consoles himself that, when his day comes, it will be in the correct sequence. “Part of my grief,” says Ross, “perhaps, is wanting my mother, my father, my brothers. And also Richard Huttel, John Lavery, Dave McFadden, Nelson Ball and Lily — the dog in my adult life — to tell me what it’s like to be dead”.
The Book is thoroughly enjoyable — perhaps a strange description given the subject matter — and empathetic. More so, Ross’s story reassures us that we aren’t alone in the seeming insanity of grief.
June 21, 2023
The Book of Grief and Hamburgers by Stuart Ross.
Is … hamburgers.
This is probably the shortest and most profound book about loss and grief I have ever read. It’s part poetic, memoir, and just journal type entry.
Ross is the last of his first family unit. Just like me. And though some of the deaths happened decades ago, you still feel the pains
The author is trying to understand what grief is, and does it end? The dreams, the panic etc. What is interesting is the inability to deal with it all at once and thus the hamburgers.
I found being sad, grieving in dreams so very true to me. Waking some days being happy to wake so as to not dream they are alive, all the time knowing they are dead. It’s a mind fuck. It was nice to hear it happens to others too.
This book is for anyone who likes yellow books, grief books and are a fan of Stuart Ross.
Is … hamburgers.
This is probably the shortest and most profound book about loss and grief I have ever read. It’s part poetic, memoir, and just journal type entry.
Ross is the last of his first family unit. Just like me. And though some of the deaths happened decades ago, you still feel the pains
The author is trying to understand what grief is, and does it end? The dreams, the panic etc. What is interesting is the inability to deal with it all at once and thus the hamburgers.
I found being sad, grieving in dreams so very true to me. Waking some days being happy to wake so as to not dream they are alive, all the time knowing they are dead. It’s a mind fuck. It was nice to hear it happens to others too.
This book is for anyone who likes yellow books, grief books and are a fan of Stuart Ross.
June 24, 2023
I am a fan of Stuart’s work and I think this is one the best books he’s written. As a literary memoir it captures the last days and final moments of several iconic Canadian poets (Nelson Ball, David McFadden and Michael Dennis), but even readers who may not be familiar with the poets above will still relate to the book on a personal, human level regarding the loss of loved ones. And yet the book is ultimately a celebration of life, and attending to what we cherish most. I gave this book to friends for Christmas, but I’m also thinking of handing it out on Halloween, and hiding it inside people’s homes for Easter.
January 11, 2023
I love this book - deeply meaningful to me.
February 12, 2023
A creative observation on the loss of friends and family, this brief book brings lightness and humour to a difficult topic.
December 10, 2023
Still hurts all the same reading it a second time. When I first read the book, it felt like a slow plow through the book. But the second time around, I think the poetry resonated with me a little more.
Read
April 12, 2024Beautiful story! I got an audiobook version on accident, and it is easily one of my favorite stories yet! Absolutely inspiring.
November 8, 2023
I'm grateful for the companionship of this book
April 22, 2024
Read this in one sitting on a plane ride to my grandmothers funeral. It was amazing. Stuart Ross is a beautifully stubborn and honest author. He visited my poetry workshop class and I was in awe of the way he worked. I immediately bought this book from him and I have no regrets. The honestly in this work helped me find some solace in my own moments of grief, in the fact that we are not alone in our grief. I especially loved the seemingly mundane details he added in about each person he spoke of. It’s details like that that truly show his love and dedication to the memory of each person he has lost. My favourite moment was the ending. There was a mixed media portrait of a dog. My first thought was “that looks like coco” (the dog I lost last summer), and on the next few pages, the last of the book, he spoke about his dog and the love he had for her. I felt seen.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
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