A stifling and heartless tale: Daum isn’t sorry to see the demise of her childhood way of life, but she cannot adequately...
A grim tale purporting to explain the pull of a place (the ranchland of South Dakota) that succeeds mainly in making those lucky readers who have never lived in that high dry country feel luckier still.
Daum grew up in south-central South Dakota, where she continues to raise horses for a half of each year on a dwindled portion of the family farm (her stake is now 130 acres, down from the 13,000 her father once owned). This is not a landscape for the weak or the fearful, for it is the home of monstrous hailstorms, seven-year droughts, and the sudden death of crops, animals, and children. “You have to be ready to die alone when you live eighty miles from the nearest hospital. There’s no telling when.” Daum experiences cruelty from the weather and the barbed wire and the predations of the ranch hands, and it seems to go on forever, like the grassland. But what she chooses to remember is the still and the quiet and the openness of the far horizon. Occasionally this sense of place is drawn out into the light in highly descriptive episodes—riding fences, hanging over the edge of a rise and looking an eagle in the eye, attending to foaling and calving—lightly buffed with emotion, when Daum’s attraction to the land is understandable and her writing possesses power and becomes memorable. And she sometimes turns a lovely image (“The sky was a whirlpool of cranes”)—although just as often she churns out a hackneyed one (“I remember thinking that if the stars had voices they might sing like this”). What becomes grating, though, is her high, lonesome, and spare voice, which in its mimicry of place feels posed: “I learned about silence from the land” or “at night I dream of coyotes.”
A stifling and heartless tale: Daum isn’t sorry to see the demise of her childhood way of life, but she cannot adequately make clear the reasons for her continued attachment to the site of all that misery.Pub Date: June 18, 2001
ISBN: 1-57131-255-2
Page Count: 220
Publisher: Milkweed
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 2001
A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular...
A neurosurgeon with a passion for literature tragically finds his perfect subject after his diagnosis of terminal lung cancer.
Writing isn’t brain surgery, but it’s rare when someone adept at the latter is also so accomplished at the former. Searching for meaning and purpose in his life, Kalanithi pursued a doctorate in literature and had felt certain that he wouldn’t enter the field of medicine, in which his father and other members of his family excelled. “But I couldn’t let go of the question,” he writes, after realizing that his goals “didn’t quite fit in an English department.” “Where did biology, morality, literature and philosophy intersect?” So he decided to set aside his doctoral dissertation and belatedly prepare for medical school, which “would allow me a chance to find answers that are not in books, to find a different sort of sublime, to forge relationships with the suffering, and to keep following the question of what makes human life meaningful, even in the face of death and decay.” The author’s empathy undoubtedly made him an exceptional doctor, and the precision of his prose—as well as the moral purpose underscoring it—suggests that he could have written a good book on any subject he chose. Part of what makes this book so essential is the fact that it was written under a death sentence following the diagnosis that upended his life, just as he was preparing to end his residency and attract offers at the top of his profession. Kalanithi learned he might have 10 years to live or perhaps five. Should he return to neurosurgery (he could and did), or should he write (he also did)? Should he and his wife have a baby? They did, eight months before he died, which was less than two years after the original diagnosis. “The fact of death is unsettling,” he understates. “Yet there is no other way to live.”
A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular clarity.Pub Date: Jan. 19, 2016
ISBN: 978-0-8129-8840-6
Page Count: 248
Publisher: Random House
Review Posted Online: Sept. 29, 2015
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2015
PERSPECTIVES
A wonderful page-turner written with humility, immediacy, and great style. Nothing came cheap and easy to McCandless, nor...
The excruciating story of a young man on a quest for knowledge and experience, a search that eventually cooked his goose, told with the flair of a seasoned investigative reporter by Outside magazine contributing editor Krakauer (Eiger Dreams, 1990).
Chris McCandless loved the road, the unadorned life, the Tolstoyan call to asceticism. After graduating college, he took off on another of his long destinationless journeys, this time cutting all contact with his family and changing his name to Alex Supertramp. He was a gent of strong opinions, and he shared them with those he met: "You must lose your inclination for monotonous security and adopt a helter-skelter style of life''; "be nomadic.'' Ultimately, in 1992, his terms got him into mortal trouble when he ran up against something—the Alaskan wild—that didn't give a hoot about Supertramp's worldview; his decomposed corpse was found 16 weeks after he entered the bush. Many people felt McCandless was just a hubris-laden jerk with a death wish (he had discarded his map before going into the wild and brought no food but a bag of rice). Krakauer thought not. Admitting an interest that bordered on obsession, he dug deep into McCandless's life. He found a willful, reckless, moody boyhood; an ugly little secret that sundered the relationship between father and son; a moral absolutism that agitated the young man's soul and drove him to extremes; but he was no more a nutcase than other pilgrims. Writing in supple, electric prose, Krakauer tries to make sense of McCandless (while scrupulously avoiding off-the-rack psychoanalysis): his risky behavior and the rites associated with it, his asceticism, his love of wide open spaces, the flights of his soul.
Pub Date: Jan. 1, 1996
ISBN: 0-679-42850-X
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Villard
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 1995
SEEN & HEARD
© Copyright 2026 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Follow
Popular in this Genre
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
