The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating

Tender, contemplative, charming, just like everyone says. I was not prepared, though, for how uncomfortable this book made me feel.

The nature aspects are truly lovely. So are the tone and pace, the gentle rhythm. Bailey's self-awareness shines, even though it's clear that there's much she's holding back, and that, I think, is what kept me so tense the entire time I was reading: Bailey is clearly intelligent and driven; her affliction, one that's especially devastating to such a person. How does she cope? Not with the tedium—snail to the rescue!—but with the feelings of uselessness and despair? Being a burden, unable to produce or give? She's made what comes off as a painful peace with her reality, and that's what I was really hoping to read more about, and what kept me cringing with discomfort. (Or am I the only one whose worst fears involve becoming crippled and utterly dependent on others?)