LIGHTS IN COLD ROOMS

In this free-flowing memoir, a retired psychologist uses her time at home during the Covid-19 quarantine to comb through her life and, where possible, extract meaningful lessons.

Handler draws on her expertise in the field of mental healthcare while recounting her experience of depression during the 2020 lockdown: “While confronting any mental or physical illness is frightening, depression’s paralyzing nature strips us of hope—the dive into despondence is all-consuming….I understood what was happening to me, and I was terrified.” In an effort to mitigate her symptoms, she turned to writing to explore the decades of memories that plagued her during her isolation. The result is a wandering, mosaic-like book that interweaves ruminations on faith, marriage, and sibling dynamics, among other topics. Much of the memoir focuses on weighty issues—including the author’s insecurities about her height of 5 feet, 11-and-a-half inches at age 11, and the guilt she felt about her distant relationship with her older sister—but it’s buoyed by fond memories of her parents and joyful visits from her grandchildren. Handler doesn’t present her recollections chronologically, but that’s part of the book’s conceit; she explains early on that “no edits were permitted” during her writing process. At times, this gives the work the air of a dream, especially when the author describes the claustrophobia and distortion of the early days of the Covid-19 lockdown (particularly in New York City, where much of the memoir takes place). Occasionally, this scattered organization makes it difficult to get a clear impression of important people in Handler’s life, including her spouse. The author also embraces a recurring motif of addressing herself with a highly clinical “Therapist Joan” voice, which may distance readers from the insights she seeks.

An ambitious but unfocused remembrance that’s enlivened by moments of dazzling honesty.