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A review by book_concierge
You're Not You by Michelle Wildgen
4.0
Bec is a college student who is not sure she’s still interested in her major, working as a part-time waitress, and involved with a married man. Hoping to make some extra money over the summer, she answers an ad looking for a caregiver / helper for a woman suffering from ALS and is hired despite (or perhaps because of) her lack of relevant experience.
Kate is not an elderly person, but a vibrant 36-year-old former advertising executive now confined to a motorized wheelchair and having to rely on someone to bathe, dress and feed her. Slowly Bec becomes adept at the required tasks and comes to look on Kate as a friend and mentor.
This was at times very difficult to read. I could see Bec identifying more and more with Kate, and Kate relying on Bec as one would a best friend rather than an employed helper. And yet, Kate, kept a certain distance, because only she could, after all, truly experience this debilitating and ultimately terminal condition.
The title comes from an incident where Bec is speaking for Kate, whose speech is garbled at best. Kate, dissatisfied with Bec’s interpretation, informs her that when Bec is “translating” for Kate “You’re not you. You’re me.”
I knew “that scene” was coming and could hardly bear to watch it play out. And yet, there were still fifty pages to read. Fifty short pages for the author to resolve Bec’s grief and her sense of purpose. For her to find the path forward again.
It’s a great debut, and I’d be interested in reading more of her works.
Kate is not an elderly person, but a vibrant 36-year-old former advertising executive now confined to a motorized wheelchair and having to rely on someone to bathe, dress and feed her. Slowly Bec becomes adept at the required tasks and comes to look on Kate as a friend and mentor.
This was at times very difficult to read. I could see Bec identifying more and more with Kate, and Kate relying on Bec as one would a best friend rather than an employed helper. And yet, Kate, kept a certain distance, because only she could, after all, truly experience this debilitating and ultimately terminal condition.
The title comes from an incident where Bec is speaking for Kate, whose speech is garbled at best. Kate, dissatisfied with Bec’s interpretation, informs her that when Bec is “translating” for Kate “You’re not you. You’re me.”
I knew “that scene” was coming and could hardly bear to watch it play out. And yet, there were still fifty pages to read. Fifty short pages for the author to resolve Bec’s grief and her sense of purpose. For her to find the path forward again.
It’s a great debut, and I’d be interested in reading more of her works.