Ratings19
Average rating3.8
30 year old Ruth finds herself sitting alone in her new apartment. She was supposed to be sharing the place with her fiance Joel - who, on the day of the move, announced he wouldn't be joining her and instead would be staying at their old place with his new girlfriend.
Soon after she is home for the holidays where she learns that her father has been having lapses. He's in the early stages of Alzheimer's and has already lost his position at the college teaching history. Ruth is asked to stay for a year to help out. Her younger brother has decided to stay away, having still not forgiven their father for his infidelity and alcoholism when he was younger.
Sounds like a ton of fun. But Rachel Khong works with a light touch.
Ruth records her year at home in diary format. Her accounts are bookended with the notes her own father left for her in an old notebook. She reads about her youthful queries about where metal comes from and what flavor are germs.
It's a year in the life. There's no real beginning or end, no tidy resolution. It barely hints at the inevitable struggle that will grow in the following years and already has the gauzy feel of nostalgia. It's a book about memory and the things we hold on to.
I suspect it would be frustrating for a reader hoping for a closer look at Alzheimers, a climactic confrontation of past betrayals, a sobbing acceptance of a love lost. A swelling of the orchestra and an emotional close-up. None of that is here. Ruth instead records the quirky everyday things that often stick out. Her father holding his regime of vitamins in one hand, shaking them like dice. I like that. Wry and melancholic but still as familiar as your mom's cooking and just as beautifully done.