The 11th book I read this year was ‘The Year of Magical Thinking’ by Joan Didion. In this book Joan Didion explores the psychological process of dealing with grief and loss. Didion’s view is that of a procedural. The details that you deal with. The practical aspects. It can be a divisive book. It can be alienating, snobbish, and downright self-centered. It can also be profound.

What it isn’t is confusing. Didion’s prose is precise, if sometimes to a fault. It wallows in banality, dealing with which deftly is often the hallmark of a good long-term relationship. I liked the book and its premise. However, I was expecting a lot more given its literary significance. I was hoping, praying maybe, for a suggestion, a solution, something I can use but instead I just got confirmation that exploring grief is eventually a lonely endeavor and on the way you find that dealing with the puddles is where the action is and cliffs are usually surprisingly calm.

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