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A review by gicb38
Jane: A Murder by Maggie Nelson
5.0
To say that I love this book is an understatement. To say that Maggie Nelson’s writing lives inside of me rent free, deep as an ache in between my ribs is accurate.
I don’t think a book has ever left me this breathless, from beginning to end. I had listened to the Red Parts in audiobook last month and have ever since become completely fascinated by everything Nelson has to say. When I found this book in the bookstore it called to me and with reason. So many of the complicated feelings Jane shares in her own diary have been my own and still are, and the way Nelson weaves together this narrative of familial trauma without exploiting the pain is something that I don’t think I will ever see done so well.
I deeply admire Maggie Nelson, and I think I have finally found in her work an all time favorite.
I just want to leave this review with the last words in this book, that seem to be the background of my thoughts now from the moment I wake up to the when I fall asleep
“Above her, the sun is still trying to burn through the mist. Strange, she thinks, how the sun so often appears as a pale circle, not the orgy of unthinkable fire that it is.”
To me this is the most astonishing way someone could ever describe the sun, its light, the fire within rage, young womanhood and loss.
I don’t think a book has ever left me this breathless, from beginning to end. I had listened to the Red Parts in audiobook last month and have ever since become completely fascinated by everything Nelson has to say. When I found this book in the bookstore it called to me and with reason. So many of the complicated feelings Jane shares in her own diary have been my own and still are, and the way Nelson weaves together this narrative of familial trauma without exploiting the pain is something that I don’t think I will ever see done so well.
I deeply admire Maggie Nelson, and I think I have finally found in her work an all time favorite.
I just want to leave this review with the last words in this book, that seem to be the background of my thoughts now from the moment I wake up to the when I fall asleep
“Above her, the sun is still trying to burn through the mist. Strange, she thinks, how the sun so often appears as a pale circle, not the orgy of unthinkable fire that it is.”
To me this is the most astonishing way someone could ever describe the sun, its light, the fire within rage, young womanhood and loss.