The Year of Magical Thinking

I wanted to like this book. I have read excerpts from some of Joan's more academic papers and loved them. I was hoping to find similarities in this highly acclaimed and widely popular memoir. I will say, the language itself did not disappoint. It is written in her easily identifiable voice; this detail being one of the few saving graces.

For a person going through their own period of bereavement, this may bring an instant relief. I see this relief manifesting itself in one of two ways. It is possible that reading, rather than, say, hearing about another's grief and mourning could be comforting. When you need someone to relate to, you pick up the book. When you need that person to be done, you put down the book. This logic makes sense to me.

I also foresee this helping those in mourning quickly determine they refuse to mourn the way Joan had. While the clinical, if not sterile, viewpoint we are presented with has its place. This point Didion grants herself the permission for quite early in the book. She quotes some scholarly source, opining that some respond to the death of a loved one with a cold, calculating response. The point made, Didion goes on to explain how she did just that. Those in mourning may well benefit from comparing their thoughts and experiences with Didion's, and determining to never be as pretentious.

The title is also perplexing. The use of the term “magical thinking” in this context seems a self-important euphemism for “denial with a side of academic reasoning.” I found nothing magical about this journey I took through the grieving process. There was little I found profound, inspiring, or moderately uplifting. Half of the book is a re-telling of her, appropriately termed, “magical past.” A past she shares with us as we are paraded around to meet the famous people she knew, the exotic places she lived or visited, and the disbelief that her life must change.

Finally, as I purchased this book from Audible.com, I must ask what the heck was up with the odd piano music? It came at the most awkward moments and seemed to have no clear purpose. It was a further distraction to an already bewildering use of my time.