In Drawing Breath: Essays on Writing, the Body, and Loss, PEN/Bellwether Prize-winning writer Gayle Brandeis’ essays explore both the writing life and the embodied life, along with potent intersection between the two. From the title essay investigating the connection between writing and breath to the final essay, which delves into Brandeis’ experience with long-haul Covid and its impact on her creative voice, this collection is infused with the urgency of mortality, thrumming with grief, authenticity, and a deep love for both language and the world of the senses.
Gayle Brandeis is the author, most recently, of Drawing Breath: Essays on Writing, the Body, and Loss (Overcup Press). Earlier books include the memoir The Art of Misdiagnosis (Beacon Press), the novel in poems, Many Restless Concerns (Black Lawrence Press), shortlisted for the Shirley Jackson Award, the poetry collection The Selfless Bliss of the Body (Finishing Line Press), the craft book Fruitflesh: Seeds of Inspiration for Women Who Write (HarperOne) and the novels The Book of Dead Birds (HarperCollins), which won the PEN/Bellwether Prize, Self Storage (Ballantine), Delta Girls (Ballantine), and My Life with the Lincolns (Henry Holt BYR), chosen as a state-wide read in Wisconsin.
Gayle's essays, poetry, and short fiction have been widely published in places such as The Guardian, The New York Times, The Washington Post, O (The Oprah Magazine), The Rumpus, Salon, and more, and have received numerous honors, including the Columbia Journal Nonfiction Award, a Barbara Mandigo Kelly Peace Poetry Award, Notable Essays in Best American Essays 2016, 2019, and 2020, the QPB/Story Magazine Short Story Award and the 2018 Multi Genre Maverick Writer Award. She was named A Writer Who Makes a Difference by The Writer Magazine, and served as Inlandia Literary Laureate from 2012-2014, focusing on bringing writing workshops to underserved communities. Gayle teaches in the low residency MFA programs at Antioch University and University of Nevada, Reno at Lake Tahoe. She currently lives in Highland Park, IL with her husband and youngest child.
These essays are more like musings, and they are very moving at times. Brandeis has the ability to turn on an Ephron-like charm when recounting her life story, but the strength of this collection is when she focuses on the universal mystery of things: a non-working door in her dying father's nursing home room, childhood scents akin to a French perfume, the ink marks left by writers (sometimes, on their own mothers' backs). The essays in this collection that read most like prose poetry took my breath away; the ones that read more like memoir, made less of an impression. For instance, I am left with incandescent images of the dramatically changing landscape between California and Nevada, just south of Lake Tahoe, rather than her story of seeing Obama speak at a conference in Lake Tahoe. There are many instances where she manages to transform memory into poetry, and that's what really sticks out. The book is broken down into seven parts, with each one named after a "breath state" (eupnea, apnea, and everything in between) swirling around numerous themes in the book, including birth, death, grief, even COVID. At times, these musings lean on etymology, cultural critiques, and literary references--which may or may not add to your experience as the reader--but you will be mesmerized by certain passages and sentences that unveil certain truths. Favorites include: "Please help me let go of this story. Please help me to give my heart over to my mother." "Diabetes mellitus literally means "honeyed siphon," a misleadingly beautiful name one that sounds like being deep in creative flow." "You've worried about him dying in every place he's ever lived, even your childhood home," Brandeis writes, looking back on her father's final days after a long life. I have not read other books by this author, but I am guessing Drawing Breath falls right in line with a beautiful body of work.
The gorgeous cover drew me in. The exquisite prose held me there. This is not a book about which I could say, “I couldn’t put it down.” I HAD to put it down—to hold those words before moving on, sometimes not until the next day. One of my favorite essays in the collection, ‘Get Me Away From Here, I’m Dying” packs a lifetime of loss and love into fewer than seven pages. Family, death, birth, loss, love and all the heartache and beauty that comes with the whole package.
The book is organized around the metaphor of the title essay, “Drawing Breath,” which discusses writing and the breath. Sections are built around different types of breathing, Eupnea: Quiet Breathing, Hyperaeration: Increased Lung Volume, for example, but are not simply related to the breath, though some are.
The essays deal with broad categories of writing, loss, and the body, as the subtitle suggests. Some of the essays may be familiar if you’ve read The Art of Misdiagnosis, covering some of the same topics in different ways. I enjoyed reading this material which was not included in the book. As a writer who has been writing about the same thing for many years myself, it was interesting to see how someone who had written a book also covers the same material in so many different ways and in so many iterations.
I enjoyed the creativity of some of the essays. In one essay, no doubt pulled together from research as she wrote her book, she creates an essay about her mother by using quotes from other writers. The title essay is laid out as if it is inhaling and exhaling on the page.
Brandeis also provides an interesting essay showing what it is like to write about such a personal experience. In, “self interview” she asks herself the same question over and over again. “How did writing your memoir change you?” is the question I imagine many would-be memoirists project upon themselves as they write their memoir. I know it is right up there with, “Why did you write your memoir?” in the imaginary interviews I’ve done in my head. Reading Brandeis’ essay shows what it is really like to put a personal story out into the world.
It will sound clichéd to say I am breathless after reading this stunning collection of essays. But I am. Like its gorgeous cover, the writing is rooted in the heart, in the author’s deepest pain and suffering—that unavoidable consequence of loving—and branches off into the inhale and exhale of life that produces so many colorful blossoms.
Gayle Brandeis breathes in her greatest griefs, fears, and regrets—her mother’s suicide, the loss of her beloved father, a foolish affair, a faltering marriage, recurring health issues—and breathes them out onto the page with beauty and grace and unfettered honesty.
With this cover image in mind as I read, I also kept seeing a similar figure, one of a tree whose roots stretch deep into Mother Earth, whose trunk yields branches that yield more branches, each bursting with life at its tips—as it reaches toward the light. That’s exactly how I felt as I read about her life: childhood, motherhood, losing and then finding love, fear of Covid, political turmoil—all the while struggling to breathe, to stay alive, not just to survive, but to grow and change. Her final essay does just that as she reaches for the light.
This is a beautiful series of essays, creatively arranged, with layers of life and love we can all relate to, and written with the gentle yet bold spirit of Gayle Brandeis.
I love that this book spans twenty years of writing, and even more of living, and yet it reminded me of the desire, and want, and breath of the women who came before me. How none of that ends as we age, as we face crisis. It reminded me that Gayle didn’t have to share her secrets, and she did—in reading them, I felt my own self opening, turning shame into something else. This is some of the best writing on disability I’ve read in a long time as well, Gayle has examined her whole being, scraped out intimate parts, conjured inherited scents, brought in a child, left and returned to marriages, to love, thrust herself into building, maintaining, modeling. This is a book of excavation, the very best kind—of honesty, even when, perhaps we’ll face judgment. I loved it.
This is a beautiful collection of essays, ones in which you truly take an inhale as you dive in. Tense breathe during Brandies’ raw, honest and unapologetically human explorations of the physical and existential self as well as examinations of the collective voice. By the final essay, a joyous satisfactory exhale, a lifting of sorts. The journey through these essays felt almost as much an excavation for the reader’s self as it did for the writer. A worthwhile read, an exercise in mental and emotional breathing.
I originally came to Brandeis' writing through her memoir, THE ART OF MISDIAGNOSIS, so this collection of essays was a reminder of what drew me in the first place. This is intimate, honest, and lyrical prose, with details that sometimes are the centerpiece of an essay ("Joy", "Room 205") or stand out amidst headier writing ("Drawing Breath," "We Too"). I read slowly. I took deep breaths. A truly enjoyable collection.
Maggie Smith called it breathtaking and I can’t think of a more fitting description — a meditation on life, death, body, mind, all woven together with the power of the written word. In absolute awe of this collection.
Not since I read Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird in the late nineties have I been this taken by another book on writing. And by a book on writing, I don’t mean on the mechanics of writing. If you’re looking for that kind of book, look elsewhere. There are tons of books on how to become a writer. Many of them are good and cover the basics. Drawing Breath: Essays on Writing, the Body, and Loss is refreshingly different.
It sweeps you up in a way that allows you to feel safe to explore your feelings about your body and spirit, your relationship with friends and family, and the way you experience the world through your senses.
From the intriguing cover to the illustrations that divide the book into sections, to the font and formatting in some sections that resemble inhaling and exhaling, I found myself aware of my own breathing as I delved into the book. I reflected on how easy it is to take breathing for granted, until of course you’ve experienced trouble breathing or know a loved one who has.
And the writing. Oh, the writing is exquisite! I admire the author’s ability to share such personal details of her life in such a way, I was free to examine and explore aspects of myself that I often shove aside because they make me uncomfortable. The author explores such things as how women of all ages feel about our thighs, our necks, our bodies in general.
She writes about loss and grief in a way that is raw and real. In the passages where the author shares about her mother’s suicide, I stopped and acknowledged how suicide/attempted suicide has impacted my own close circle of people I care about. In the passages where the author shares about her elderly father’s decline and death, I paused and remembered the phases of my own father’s life from my first memories of him to those final moments when he took his last breath. Not all those memories are happy ones, but I opened myself up to acknowledge all of them.
A special note to writers: If you’re like me and have grown weary of all the assumptions and expectations of what writers are supposed to do and not do, this book is for you. And if you’re a woman who’s been wounded by life, regardless of your age, Drawing Breath is a healing balm for our wounded psyches.
Drawing Breath embodies what it means to write a memoir with utter transparency, rawness, and vulnerability. This memoir is a collection of essays that revolve around themes of grief, body image, the naked truths of womanhood, regret, health, and the abundant power of writing. The careful thought behind the memoir's structure allowed for a subtle yet powerful execution of the essay's main messages. Gayle Brandeis' honest voice invites the audience to reflect on their creative processes and the sheer power of one's voice. Gayle Brandeis brilliantly frames a unique perspective on "breathing." What appears to be a simple biological function, Gayle Brandeis intersects Breath with the writing process, understanding language, BIPOC representation, and women's rights. Brandeis further utilizes an array of point-of-views such as first-person, third-person, and second-person. The thoughtfulness behind employing a range of point-of-views promotes a diverse and unique voice throughout the memoir. Each point-of-view seamlessly allows a significant and prominent message to shine.
Gayle Brandeis is a huge reason this book was so unique and effective in its message. Her voice as an author is engaging, vulnerable, truthful, and sometimes witty. Due to Brandeis' voice, the collection of essays can curate something captivating and unique for all individuals. Each essay has the power to connect with a different identity within the audience. Brandeis embodies the importance of mirrors, windows, and sliding glass doors. Each essay employs one of these crucial writing elements; at times, I looked into a mirror, especially concerning Brandeis' essays on body image, womanhood, and the writing process. At other times, Brandeis' commanding use of language allows the audience to empathetically look through a window or walk through a sliding glass door, providing deep insights into new perspectives, experiences, and cultures.
Furthermore, the prose was breathtaking. The mixture of essay writing and poetical moments was a joy to consume. Each selection behind formatting and structure heavily played into the effectiveness of the intended messages, and it simply worked. Brandeis' use of personal and specific details elevated the strength of this memoir. It was just so deeply personal and beautifully edited and formatted, and it was remarkably moving.
It is interesting how much grief stays with us throughout our lives. In all of the little things that we do not think about all the time, but at the seemingly worst time, those memories surface. These essays taught me that we are not alone in our grief. It is a common saying, but nobody really gives such personal examples as Gayle Brandeis does, that makes us feel like we aren’t alone.
I also learned that something I have been doing my entire life is responsible for so much more than just keeping me alive. Breath is not just the air of life, but it is the transportation of words and stories and it is the rhythm that guides us. These essays have given a whole new light to the phrase “take your breath away.”
Gayle Brandeis is proof that writing/reading is a good way to deal with grief. It takes your mind off of what you are obsessing over, and takes you to a faraway memory or place of your choosing. With these essays spanning all this time, and revealing so much about the author, the only way I can think of describing this work is simply honest. This is a very well written piece about a lot of sensitive topics, that Brandeis did not have to divulge such personal information on and chose to anyways.
This book is a series of creative non-fiction essays that is a great balance between memoir and poetic prose. The book is divided into sections that are named scientific ways to describe ways of breathing. The author speaks of her challenging relationship with her mother, how her mother and father passed away, instances of sexual abuse, and many other heavy topics that forced me to step away from the page. My favorite part of this book is how creatively Brandeis approached each topic. She found a unique way to frame the story (sometimes dividing the essay further into named or numbered sections, or Brandeis would play around with the formatting of the words on the page). The chapters I was most touched by were the ones she spoke about her father slowly passing away in hospice care. His slow descent and decaying mind reminded me of my grandfather who also passed before COVID. I had the same thoughts, the same experience, everything. I thought this was a beautiful book that made me want to write about myself (or at least try) in the most creative ways possible. Sometimes a story doesn't have to be told like most novels!
Drawing Breath captivated me from the beginning, its lyrical essays and poetic inspirations made it a memorable experience. I was drawn in from the first chapters that speak of memory and girlhood to the second half of the book where we understand how familial relationships truly shape our existence. Gayle Brandeis created a powerful story that not only inspired me, but will remain relevant for years to come.
The verse and poetry of Drawing Breath made me all the more aware of and appreciative of my breath and body while reading it. Gayle frequently highlighted the importance of breath as it relates to life/creativity, and the motif of breath colored the pages of this memoir with some of Gayle’s most personal stories. Drawing Breath is writing in its most raw, vulnerable, and meditative state. The prose captivates and there is a sense that creativity is very much alive in this work.
An excellent read. Vivid and emotional, Brandeis unfolds the pages of her life in these essays, collected together to form something more than the sum of their parts. While each essay could stand on its own, together they form a story, and at the heart of that story is the breath of life. Brandeis breathes life into the story she tells. Of course not all the essays are the best, but taken as their whole, they form a poetic narrative that captures the reader.
A breathtaking read! Drawing Breath was as insightful as it was eye opening. I think the use of the breathing structure was an incredible way to give a sense of rhythm. I'd recommend this book to those dealing with anxiety or for those looking to expand their knowledge of mental health awareness. Incredibly unique piece!
An incredibly insightful and creative essay collection. I was captivated by the visual arrangement of the essays which mimicked breathing in and out. The author's intimate storytelling reflected the idea that life can be measured in breaths. Each unique moment was distinct and fleeting, seeming like a single breath in a much larger story.
A stunning book. Magical in its use of language and seductive in the way it draws you in. Leaving the reader breathless, requiring breaths in attempts to slow down, before rushing ahead to breathless again.
I absolutely loved this essay collection and was thrilled to have the opportunity to write about it for BROADVIEW MAGAZINE. Highly recommended, both for the beauty of the content and the prose.
An astonishing read, encapsulating topics I've become all too familiar with and those I haven't lived long enough to explore. Gayle's vulnerability throughout truly made this book, touching on milestones she's experienced with the grace of one who has triumphed and overcame.
An insightful and moving essay collection on grief, love and ultimately life itself. Subjects which we humans all must face, but rarely want to discuss.
Drawing Breath: Essays on Writing, the Body, and Loss Gayle Brandeis breathes onto the page her greatest griefs, fears, and regrets—her mother’s suicide, the loss of her beloved father, a foolish affair, a faltering marriage, recurring health issues. This is a beautiful series of essays filled with grace, life, loss and love and written with the Gayle Brandeis' powerful, yet gentle spirit.