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A review by shorshewitch
Still Alice by Lisa Genova
5.0
Still Alice by Lisa Genova
My rating: 5/5
(P.S.: The rating that I gave might be biased due to the fact that the book deals with a subject I have been closely attached to. Nonetheless, it is an engrossing read for any typical reader who knows and understands, that the heart and the brain are two extremely fragile sections of human body – both trying to work in tandem, both losing sight and synchronization time and again, in certain affected individuals or even normal ones for that matter)
I picked this book on a whim, assuming this might be some nice adult retelling of my favorite fairy tale considering the title “Still Alice”. I then read the blurb and it said that it spoke about one Mrs. Alice Howland, a Harvard professor, a research scientist who specializes in linguistics, a speaker, a mother of three, known for her dynamic teaching methods, lauded for her extremely effective memory. It said that it is a story that takes us through her spiraling tumble into the unknown.
And as the pages turned, I realized it is indeed a story of Alice, who gradually and eventually fell through a rabbit hole called “memories” and got lost in a “wonderland”, caused by a monstrous disease called “Alzheimer’s Disease”.
Lisa Genova has written the book in a manner that you will find yourself inevitably in place of Alice. You will feel her frustrations and wretchedness about disappointing herself and others around her. It speaks about alienation of such sufferers from the normal world, inability of even loved ones to sometimes stay patient with the illness. It is heart-breaking to see through the book that Alice, who had so many plans for her future, so many books to read, so many movies to watch, so much time left to spend with her children and husband, has to stand face to face with her nightmare of losing everything that she ever held close to her, including her position in her profession.
There is a particular incident in the book which projected Alice’s sudden confrontation with the fact that she would soon be dependant for even the mundane activities. It moved me to such an extent, that I started crying, really hard, in a packed local train, and had to get down on the next station, to stop myself from wailing. It was hard to take it while reading it, let alone imagine the plight of the once independent victim.
I finished the book in a single sitting.
The relationship between neurons and their communication, the brain’s processing, the mutations of the genes in the offspring and the subsequent fear that they are susceptible to the disease 50% of times comes out quite vividly through the extensive research that Lisa has done to write this book. Although the devastation caused by Alzheimer’s cannot be crammed in 327 pages, Lisa Genova has done a marvelous job in portraying the incoherent life and situations of a victim. It doesn’t preach anything anywhere. The book just shares an overwhelming story of a strong, smart, intelligent, confident woman full of self worth and her descent into the oblivion, the strange world of unintelligible syllables, diminishing identities, irrevocable demise of the neurons in her brain, gut-wrenching transformation of her physical body and hurtful, almost death-like hurt in her heart caused due to complete loss of confidence and self-merit. It also portrays beautifully a struggle of a family trying to hold together the abysmal shreds of trailing dignity of the woman whom they all loved and who loved them back even if she didn’t remember any longer that she did.
Some quotes that I fell for:
“I’m sorry I have this. I can’t stand the thought of how much worse this is going to get. I can’t stand the thought of looking at you someday, this face I love, and not knowing who you are.”
“I don’t know how much longer I have to know you.”
“I don’t really remember that much.” There it was, her Alzheimer’s, stripped and naked under the fluorescent lighting, on display for Sarah Something to scrutinize and judge.”
“But being sure these days was tattered with too many holes to contain the meaning that it used to.”
Signing off with a personal note for my Grandmother who was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s 2 years back and we have been destined to witness her struggle throughout (She is a fighter, my grandmum – wrote this piece 2 years back just for her).
When I was little, I used to tag along with my Granny while she cooked. She knew I loved to cook, so she used to let me make the last chapati with a little ball of dough and helped me roast it. Those were delightful days. I felt like a big girl when I made the last little chapati.
Today, I am 28 n my Granny 84. Today, when I make chapatis for family, my Granny tags along. She looks at me longingly. I know she still loves to cook but doesn't remember any longer how to do it. So I give the last little dough ball and teach her how to. She makes it and is delighted because she helped.
I cherish these moments and wonder how life has turned the tables. I feel blessed because life gave me this opportunity. To give back a part of my life, to the people who gave me my life. And to my Granma who gave me my first lesson of the last little Chapati.
My rating: 5/5
(P.S.: The rating that I gave might be biased due to the fact that the book deals with a subject I have been closely attached to. Nonetheless, it is an engrossing read for any typical reader who knows and understands, that the heart and the brain are two extremely fragile sections of human body – both trying to work in tandem, both losing sight and synchronization time and again, in certain affected individuals or even normal ones for that matter)
I picked this book on a whim, assuming this might be some nice adult retelling of my favorite fairy tale considering the title “Still Alice”. I then read the blurb and it said that it spoke about one Mrs. Alice Howland, a Harvard professor, a research scientist who specializes in linguistics, a speaker, a mother of three, known for her dynamic teaching methods, lauded for her extremely effective memory. It said that it is a story that takes us through her spiraling tumble into the unknown.
And as the pages turned, I realized it is indeed a story of Alice, who gradually and eventually fell through a rabbit hole called “memories” and got lost in a “wonderland”, caused by a monstrous disease called “Alzheimer’s Disease”.
Lisa Genova has written the book in a manner that you will find yourself inevitably in place of Alice. You will feel her frustrations and wretchedness about disappointing herself and others around her. It speaks about alienation of such sufferers from the normal world, inability of even loved ones to sometimes stay patient with the illness. It is heart-breaking to see through the book that Alice, who had so many plans for her future, so many books to read, so many movies to watch, so much time left to spend with her children and husband, has to stand face to face with her nightmare of losing everything that she ever held close to her, including her position in her profession.
There is a particular incident in the book which projected Alice’s sudden confrontation with the fact that she would soon be dependant for even the mundane activities. It moved me to such an extent, that I started crying, really hard, in a packed local train, and had to get down on the next station, to stop myself from wailing. It was hard to take it while reading it, let alone imagine the plight of the once independent victim.
I finished the book in a single sitting.
The relationship between neurons and their communication, the brain’s processing, the mutations of the genes in the offspring and the subsequent fear that they are susceptible to the disease 50% of times comes out quite vividly through the extensive research that Lisa has done to write this book. Although the devastation caused by Alzheimer’s cannot be crammed in 327 pages, Lisa Genova has done a marvelous job in portraying the incoherent life and situations of a victim. It doesn’t preach anything anywhere. The book just shares an overwhelming story of a strong, smart, intelligent, confident woman full of self worth and her descent into the oblivion, the strange world of unintelligible syllables, diminishing identities, irrevocable demise of the neurons in her brain, gut-wrenching transformation of her physical body and hurtful, almost death-like hurt in her heart caused due to complete loss of confidence and self-merit. It also portrays beautifully a struggle of a family trying to hold together the abysmal shreds of trailing dignity of the woman whom they all loved and who loved them back even if she didn’t remember any longer that she did.
Some quotes that I fell for:
“I’m sorry I have this. I can’t stand the thought of how much worse this is going to get. I can’t stand the thought of looking at you someday, this face I love, and not knowing who you are.”
“I don’t know how much longer I have to know you.”
“I don’t really remember that much.” There it was, her Alzheimer’s, stripped and naked under the fluorescent lighting, on display for Sarah Something to scrutinize and judge.”
“But being sure these days was tattered with too many holes to contain the meaning that it used to.”
Signing off with a personal note for my Grandmother who was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s 2 years back and we have been destined to witness her struggle throughout (She is a fighter, my grandmum – wrote this piece 2 years back just for her).
When I was little, I used to tag along with my Granny while she cooked. She knew I loved to cook, so she used to let me make the last chapati with a little ball of dough and helped me roast it. Those were delightful days. I felt like a big girl when I made the last little chapati.
Today, I am 28 n my Granny 84. Today, when I make chapatis for family, my Granny tags along. She looks at me longingly. I know she still loves to cook but doesn't remember any longer how to do it. So I give the last little dough ball and teach her how to. She makes it and is delighted because she helped.
I cherish these moments and wonder how life has turned the tables. I feel blessed because life gave me this opportunity. To give back a part of my life, to the people who gave me my life. And to my Granma who gave me my first lesson of the last little Chapati.