A grief-stricken husband attempts to come to terms with the death of his wife in this debut memoir.
Michael Murphy enjoyed an idyllic life in a mansion with his wife and four kids. Then one day, a stunning married woman named Margot walked into the car dealership where he worked and his life changed. Margot would teach Murphy “what it meant to love more deeply than I ever knew was possible.” Though he was married at the time, he couldn’t help but be drawn to Margot. The two decided to separate from their spouses to be together. They eventually wed, but tragedy struck when Margot was diagnosed with cancer. Murphy navigated hospitals and chemotherapy while trying to enjoy the time he had left with his wife. He believed in spiritual healing, and often imagined “neutralizing [cancer cells] with unconditional love.” He was determined to try anything that would ensure his wife’s continued survival. Throughout the book, he maintains that “love is the most powerful force in the Universe.” This sweet proclamation is far from sappy knowing the challenging situation that Murphy and his family found themselves in. In fact, reading about his ability to support his wife and stay positive for the family is incredibly affecting. Margot herself is a fully realized character in the narrative. Murphy recalls texts she wrote assuring her family that she was “not scared” and that “suffering at times brings you closer to God.” This work will probably help readers who have lost spouses deal with feelings of sorrow and helplessness, as well as those who have suffered from cancer or know someone who has. But it is also a well-written, touching tale of a family’s struggle to grapple with tragic circumstances. Ultimately, this is an uplifting read that includes well-developed characters and a carefully constructed narrative that manages to snag readers not just with the details of Margot’s battle with cancer, but with the story of how she and Murphy fell in love.
A moving account that should help families affected by cancer cope with despair.
Privately published by Strunk of Cornell in 1918 and revised by his student E. B. White in 1959, that "little book" is back again with more White updatings.
Stricter than, say, Bergen Evans or W3 ("disinterested" means impartial — period), Strunk is in the last analysis (whoops — "A bankrupt expression") a unique guide (which means "without like or equal").
Noted jazz and pop record producer Thiele offers a chatty autobiography. Aided by record-business colleague Golden, Thiele traces his career from his start as a ``pubescent, novice jazz record producer'' in the 1940s through the '50s, when he headed Coral, Dot, and Roulette Records, and the '60s, when he worked for ABC and ran the famous Impulse! jazz label. At Coral, Thiele championed the work of ``hillbilly'' singer Buddy Holly, although the only sessions he produced with Holly were marred by saccharine strings. The producer specialized in more mainstream popsters like the irrepressibly perky Teresa Brewer (who later became his fourth wife) and the bubble-machine muzak-meister Lawrence Welk. At Dot, Thiele was instrumental in recording Jack Kerouac's famous beat- generation ramblings to jazz accompaniment (recordings that Dot's president found ``pornographic''), while also overseeing a steady stream of pop hits. He then moved to the Mafia-controlled Roulette label, where he observed the ``silk-suited, pinky-ringed'' entourage who frequented the label's offices. Incredibly, however, Thiele remembers the famously hard-nosed Morris Levy, who ran the label and was eventually convicted of extortion, as ``one of the kindest, most warm-hearted, and classiest music men I have ever known.'' At ABC/Impulse!, Thiele oversaw the classic recordings of John Coltrane, although he is the first to admit that Coltrane essentially produced his own sessions. Like many producers of the day, Thiele participated in the ownership of publishing rights to some of the songs he recorded; he makes no apology for this practice, which he calls ``entirely appropriate and without any ethical conflicts.'' A pleasant, if not exactly riveting, memoir that will be of most interest to those with a thirst for cocktail-hour stories of the record biz. (25 halftones, not seen)