Still Alice Review

I recently re-read Still Alice, after having read Still Alice, inside the O’Briens and Love, Anthony. I guess I just really love Lisa Genova. But I realised I can’t read her books one after another, as they are too heavy, or rather, they leave me feeling too heavy-hearted and pensive. So I Guess that’s why I’m reading a book written by Ellen DeGeneres now, called Seriously… I’m Kidding. Haha. Before that I interspersed her books with a Jack Reacher novel.
However, I have been raving to anyone whom I have more than a 5-minute conversation with, about what a wonderful author Lisa Genova is, and the themes her books explore. After they find out what she writes about, I am often replied with a grimace and an eeugh (that’s my Husband), or if people don’t know me well enough, a polite “oh, I usually don’t like sad stories”. Recently, when I insisted on telling my hubby the storyline of Love, Anthony, he balked and complained “No! No more of those sad stories! I hate hearing about them and i don’t understand why you like reading them!”.

I’m a little puzzled not everyone shares my love of realistic portrayals of everyday life that are immensely thought-provoking. Ok, so it’s not everyday life, as the characters always have some life-threatening or life-altering disease or condition, but they give me such deep, realistic glimpses into people and families who have to deal with such things, which I can relate to as I may have to deal with some form of that in the future either in myself or in my loved ones, that I find it a treasure trove of knowledge and is the best kind of fiction – that shines a mirror on your lives, on our inner lives, our thoughts, that throws us into scenarios both probable and improbable and makes us think what might be our reactions to it (another movie that causes such reflections between me and my husband is Train to Busan, but more of that in another post). And even more importantly, I love it that what she deals with is our mortality. What happens when our days are numbered, when the basic functioning a of life we take for granted are suddenly in decline, how do we cope, how should we cope, what is left? It is like a fictional story of characters having to live with the End in Mind, Steven Covey’s second habit, one which I love, except Lisa Genova explores this with a whole cast of characters, with different personalities, different levels of religiosity (however none of her lead characters were truly religious), types of spouses, kids, careers etc. So, as I said, a treasure trove of information, lives lived before, though they are fiction.

So, what struck me a lot this second time round, reading Still Alice, is the response of her husband John. I found myself seeing him in a kinder light at times, noticing how he is really trying to help her by running with her daily though he hates running, and attending lots of conferences on Alzheimer’s and trying to help her find a cure. However I think he never accepted or came to terms with the fact that his wife had Alzheimer’s and she would eventually lose her mind through a decline. He could not stomach seeing her eat medicines, could not face seeing her struggle with simple things. In the end, he chose to move to New York to take up a Chairman role which was a big coup for his career, even though it meant being far from Alice (I take it that she stayed in Boston with her daughters and son), and one really has to wonder, was that the right choice? If it were me, what would I do?

The book explores questions indirectly like is it worth spending your life and effort taking care of someone who may be more and more incapable of knowing you, and appreciating your efforts. Raise the stakes higher, would you sacrifice a part of your career to do that? The conclusion of the book suggests that yes, it is worth it, because you love the person, and even when someone seems to have deteriorated a lot, there are moments when they recognise you, are clear-headed, and they definitely continue to have feelings and can think at some level. However all that aside, what if that person is in a coma?

Ok, heavy questions (I’m feeling a bit breathless here contemplating all these big questions) and I can only offer a story as an answer. From my own experience.

My grandma had a stroke when I was very young, and she was taken care of by my uncle and his wife for very Long. She was mostly taken care of by his wife, as my uncle was working a lot, and perhaps partly as my grandma was not her mother but my uncle’s, my aunt eventually lost her mind a little from all the work of taking care of an invalid, and my grandma was moved to a home for the elderly. However when my mum saw more and more bruises on my grandma, she couldn’t bear it and took my grandma into our home. My grandma lived more ten years in our home before she passed on, and in that period of time, my parents simply hired a maid and juggled all the duties of working, taking care of me and my grandma as best as they could. They ensured she ate well, was taken care of and spoke to her occasionally (very loudly so she could hear). At one time, she even smeared her faeces all over the wall and my dad had to clean it up. All through it, my parents never complained. I think the answer for me would probably also be pretty straightforward. Family is family. And we have to take care of our family. And like this little placard that hangs on the wall just before we leave the house, “Hope makes things bright, faith makes things possible, love makes things easy.”