Joan Didion The Year of Magical Thinking (Collins Modern Classics) /anglais Paperback – May 13, 2021

I stayed up almost all might just to finish reading it, unable to put this down, although I confess I had to keep a box of tissues nearby. I've lost 5 people in the last few years and, just recently, another friend and so I related very strongly to this book.Didion's unflinching account of the sudden loss of her husband (which occurred while their only child was in a coma in a hospital (!)) deserves to be a classic in the genre of books written by and for those who are grieving. It is hard to find books like this, which are both honest but not overly sentimental, not resorting to the tropes which seem to surround death. She doesn't offer vague platitudes or advice. She simply relates her very personal experience, including the inevitable vulnerability, unexpected moments of being blindsided by memories and sudden tears, etc.She covers all the bases, including the kind of insanity that can seize one in the throes of grief, those moments when you forget the person is actually dead, when you turn to speak to him or her as you normally would at a certain part of the day or reach for the phone to share the latest news.The book is raw. If you're looking for religous or spiritual guidance and inspiration, this is not the book for you. As Didion herself noted, writing about the book recently, it was intentionally written "raw". I assume she didn't want to wait, to distance herself from the intensity of the experience as she wrote it down, quite unlike many other books she has written. Raw or not, it wasn't sloppy, overly sentimental or complete despairing.It was simply honest, heartwrenchingly so, and Didion doesn't deviate from communicating, in absolute striking detail, the sense of alienation and disorientation that separates mourners from those who seem to be living "normal" lives. Grief is its own territory, separate from so-called normalcy. In so many ways, it is an illness, an affliction of the spirit and not one that can be cured in any one way.An aside- the photo of Didion inside the dustjacket is haunting. No question that those are the eyes of someone who has been scraped to the core, wounded and, presumably, still recovering. There is something beautiful in that portrait and, oddly, comforting. It is the face of a survivor, however hard it might be to live as one.This book will remain on my bookshelf and I expect I'll be thumbing through it for solace time and again. Reading it was both painful and cathartic and strangely comforting, with an intensity that left me awestruck. I am still amazed that she was able to produce such a beautifully written book in the throes of so much pain.

While I have never experienced loss the magnitude Didion describes, she brings me there - into the common sense non-sensical reality of grief. This was my first encounter with Didion and I love her style, the spiraling of themes, the fluidity through she weaves memory and fact and present. A very good read.

This book is a difficult one to get into if you're not in the right frame of mind. Having had two false starts with it, I decided to give it one last go before I gave it away. This was the attempt that stuck.A memoir, this book examines grief and love in the face of death. Published two years after the death of Joan Didion's husband, Didion describes her life in the immediate aftermath. With her daughter in the hospital, Didion didn't neither another tragedy. However, as she repeats often, “Life changes fast. Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends.” Her daughter is between life and death, but when death comes it takes her husband instead.Although about grief, this book isn't maudlin. Didion writes with an almost cool distance that allows the reader to see how disconnected she felt from her life. Everything is the facts as she remembers them, seen through her attempts to understand the change that life has thrust at her. She researches death and presents us her findings. She wracks her memories of the event and presents us only with her subjective point of view. Everywhere the memory of John and of their life together haunts her, and so haunts us.Simple, honest, and brave are the words I would use to describe this book. Didion bares herself to us in one of the hardest times of her life and I don't think many would have the guts to do that. The writing isn't showy, but boiled down to the bare necessities and strung together in a way that echoes the honesty of the events being told.I haven't lived through enough grief to truly understand what Didion feels, but this book allows me to sympathize. And I hope that it also gives me tools that will allow me to approach grief with dignity when the time comes.Didion says that she never wrote John letters because they were always together. This book is a love letter that could only be written now that they are apart.

A Masterpiece on Grief and MemoryJoan Didion’s *The Year of Magical Thinking* is one of those rare books that lingers in your head long after you’ve closed it. She writes with unflinching clarity about the sudden loss of her husband while caring for their gravely ill daughter, capturing the strange rhythm of grief—the disbelief, the looping thoughts, the need to control what can’t be controlled.What I admire most is how unsentimental the book is. Didion’s prose is stripped down, almost clinical at times, yet that restraint makes the emotions hit harder. She describes the irrational “magical thinking” that keeps her from giving away her husband’s shoes because, on some level, she can’t accept he won’t return. That vulnerability is universally relatable for anyone who has endured sudden loss.This isn’t just a memoir of mourning; it’s also a meditation on memory, marriage, and how fragile the structures of daily life really are. Didion weaves in medical details, literature, and reflections on the mind’s coping mechanisms, which gave me not only a window into her personal grief but also a deeper understanding of my own.It’s not a light read, but it’s immensely rewarding. The honesty, the craftsmanship, and the sheer courage it took to put these experiences into words are remarkable.Bottom line: A powerful, beautifully written meditation on love, loss, and the ways we try to make sense of the unthinkable—an essential read for anyone interested in the human experience of grief.