The Point of Vanishing: A Memoir of Two Years in Solitude

Howard Axelrod can write. I mean really write. He's such a craftstman that I can't possibly do his book justice in this review. Whether you end up finding the author's journey and insights as compelling as I did, surely any reader could appreciate his syntax and poetic style.

This memoir of both the traumatic loss of an eye and the subsequent upheaval of both his own and everyone else's expectations was particularly touching. Mr. Axelrod exposes himself and truly does end up seeing himself and the world. Before the accident, he was blindly following the path in front of him: going to class, picking up girls playing basketball with friends. Then the breakdown of communication. Of expectation. Of trusting his own senses, which so many of us take for granted. Of finding solace in a woman's arms.

While transitioning from childhood to adulthood is a theme that has been explored time and again, it is rarely presented as both sharp and blurry in such elegant prose that I had to put the book down regularly simply to let the words wash through me. Does Mr. Axelrod tell us every detail of his days in near solitude? No, we aren't sure how he spends each day. What he remembers are those memories that shimmer or that clang at him like a rusty bell.