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A review by theyellowbrickreader
The End of Your Life Book Club by Will Schwalbe
5.0
The premise of this book is that of a mother and son who form an impromptu but ongoing book club after she learns she has terminal cancer. They read and discuss books together while he accompanies her to doctor appointments and chemo treatments. This comes naturally as they are both avid readers and bibliophiles. In short, it is simultaneously a memoir on love, loss and grief and a love letter to books themselves.
I first learned of the existence of this book shortly after my mom died from cancer in December 2019. My first feeling was a twinge of envy, as if to say, “Gosh that’s a brilliant idea, why didn’t I think of that while my mom was still alive?” The typical fleeting jealous regret one might have in those first weeks raw from grief.
It was a tough first year of grieving through 2020 being amidst a global pandemic, isolated from family and trudging through daily uncertainty. I purchased this book around Mother’s Day, but shelved it for the remainder of the year. December 2020 would mark the milestone one year anniversary of my mom’s death. It would also be her birthday, Christmas and my parents’ wedding anniversary. So naturally, what I decided to do that month was start reading this book. While some might find this the least desirable read to pick up in that moment, my choice doesn’t surprise me at all. This is sort of my approach to books on grief, I’m all in. Plus I took comfort in the belief I held that Will’s story might feel similar to my own, if only for the fact that we both lost our bibliophilic mothers to cancer.
I no longer felt envious, as I yearned more for that sense of familiarity I hoped I’d find within these pages. In truth, envy was always unwarranted. While my mom and I may not have had a book club per se, most of my visits (especially toward the end) did include a check in on our current reads, her book club’s selection that month, how she and my father had different opinions on it, how awful the amazon prime monthly kindle freebie was but how she was forcing herself to finish it anyway, a scan of the books sitting on the coffee table and in the hall bookshelf. I hardly ever went home empty handed.
By page 6 (!) of this memoir, I was holding back tears and I just knew I was going to love this book. I’m not sure I’ve ever had the experience before of feeling like a book was written specifically for me, and I’m not sure it’s appropriate to claim that from a memoir, which by definition is written as someone else’s personal account. Still that is how I feel about this book and I am so grateful to have found it. I could have sped through it but I deliberately paced myself and savored each chapter.
The structure of the book is set up where each chapter is the title of a book Will and his mom were reading for their book club. He so poignantly and cleverly interlaces these stories into his own. Many, if not all, of the chapters come to a close in such a way that they could stand alone as vignettes. That said, it also weaves together seamlessly throughout the chronological progression of her illness. While this is a book about cancer, this is also a book about books that I would recommend to any book lover.
Will Schwalbe writes of one of their book club selections:
“How could anyone who loves books not love a book that is itself so in love with books?”
And fittingly, this is exactly how I would describe the very book he has written!
Will writes of a book with an ambiguous ending, “I hate not knowing.” And his mom replies “I do too. That’s why I always read the ending first. But sometimes you just can’t know what’s going to happen, even when you know everything there is to know. So you prepare for the worst but hope for the best.”
“The individual books may be different, but reverence for books is what we all have in common.”
“We’re all in the end-of-our-life book club, whether we acknowledge it or not; each book we read may well be the last, each conversation the final one.”
This book made me smile and laugh so many times. It also made me cry but I am glad for that. It made me remember my mom so fondly. And you know something? I’m now in a book club with my father.
I first learned of the existence of this book shortly after my mom died from cancer in December 2019. My first feeling was a twinge of envy, as if to say, “Gosh that’s a brilliant idea, why didn’t I think of that while my mom was still alive?” The typical fleeting jealous regret one might have in those first weeks raw from grief.
It was a tough first year of grieving through 2020 being amidst a global pandemic, isolated from family and trudging through daily uncertainty. I purchased this book around Mother’s Day, but shelved it for the remainder of the year. December 2020 would mark the milestone one year anniversary of my mom’s death. It would also be her birthday, Christmas and my parents’ wedding anniversary. So naturally, what I decided to do that month was start reading this book. While some might find this the least desirable read to pick up in that moment, my choice doesn’t surprise me at all. This is sort of my approach to books on grief, I’m all in. Plus I took comfort in the belief I held that Will’s story might feel similar to my own, if only for the fact that we both lost our bibliophilic mothers to cancer.
I no longer felt envious, as I yearned more for that sense of familiarity I hoped I’d find within these pages. In truth, envy was always unwarranted. While my mom and I may not have had a book club per se, most of my visits (especially toward the end) did include a check in on our current reads, her book club’s selection that month, how she and my father had different opinions on it, how awful the amazon prime monthly kindle freebie was but how she was forcing herself to finish it anyway, a scan of the books sitting on the coffee table and in the hall bookshelf. I hardly ever went home empty handed.
By page 6 (!) of this memoir, I was holding back tears and I just knew I was going to love this book. I’m not sure I’ve ever had the experience before of feeling like a book was written specifically for me, and I’m not sure it’s appropriate to claim that from a memoir, which by definition is written as someone else’s personal account. Still that is how I feel about this book and I am so grateful to have found it. I could have sped through it but I deliberately paced myself and savored each chapter.
The structure of the book is set up where each chapter is the title of a book Will and his mom were reading for their book club. He so poignantly and cleverly interlaces these stories into his own. Many, if not all, of the chapters come to a close in such a way that they could stand alone as vignettes. That said, it also weaves together seamlessly throughout the chronological progression of her illness. While this is a book about cancer, this is also a book about books that I would recommend to any book lover.
Will Schwalbe writes of one of their book club selections:
“How could anyone who loves books not love a book that is itself so in love with books?”
And fittingly, this is exactly how I would describe the very book he has written!
Will writes of a book with an ambiguous ending, “I hate not knowing.” And his mom replies “I do too. That’s why I always read the ending first. But sometimes you just can’t know what’s going to happen, even when you know everything there is to know. So you prepare for the worst but hope for the best.”
“The individual books may be different, but reverence for books is what we all have in common.”
“We’re all in the end-of-our-life book club, whether we acknowledge it or not; each book we read may well be the last, each conversation the final one.”
This book made me smile and laugh so many times. It also made me cry but I am glad for that. It made me remember my mom so fondly. And you know something? I’m now in a book club with my father.