For the first few days after Catherine's death, I find myself doing all the wrong things--though I'm not exactly sure what the right things are. I'm fairly certain you're not supposed to lie in a bath, listening to ABBA, when your girlfriend's just been killed in a car crash. But this morning, that's exactly what I find myself doing. Singing along with Fernando on the radio. Using Catherine's bubble bath. Mindlessly trying to churn up more bubbles with my hands.
Because what's just happened is so major, anything I do which is minor--and in my life, that's quite a lot--automatically seems wrong. Putting my feet up on the table this morning, reading the sports page, I caught myself thinking: Is this allowed? And making a triple-decker honey sandwich: Is this too frivolous?
I'm a Believer
Alright... I'm not ever a fan of mysticism, but still this book hooked me from the onset. This is a seriously fun read--clever, thoughtful, spiritual. Should seem frivolous on many levels but the underlying subject matter--death, grief, loss, love, relationship, friendship, religion, faith, reality... See! This story is chock-full of worthwhile thoughts and conversations.
I love it when a protagonist is self-aware, self-effacing, and intelligent. I love it when the main character does a lot of off-kilter sometimes irrelevant digressing. So much like real life, at least through my over-analytical perspective. Mark is complex, and whether you get him or not, he's an interestingly drawn, very human person. There's nothing shallow or self-deluding about him.
Ms. Adams is a fine wordsmith and I'm definitely going to check out her wittily titled first novel--Tom, Dick, and Debby Harry and also Single White E-mail.