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A review by kailynwho
Sanatorium by Abi Palmer
4.0
A raw, beautiful, haunting, and flowing mix of diary entries, poetry, and creative non-fiction. The book chronicles the author's experience with chronic illness, pain, water, and the seemingly never-ending cycle between being unwell and (almost) well, and believed and questioned about the validity of one's disability. She includes the beautiful and the ugly. It's strange and hypnotic, but I'm into that kind of thing.
(Sidenote: it kind of angers me that my local library labeled this as fiction, instead of the biography/non-fiction that it is. Almost as if women telling their stories of pain and disability in this format isn't real enough for those categories. But maybe it's not that deep. I don't know).
Merged review:
A raw, beautiful, haunting, and flowing mix of diary entries, poetry, and creative non-fiction. The book chronicles the author's experience with chronic illness, pain, water, and the seemingly never-ending cycle between being unwell and (almost) well, and believed and questioned about the validity of one's disability. She includes the beautiful and the ugly. It's strange and hypnotic, but I'm into that kind of thing.
(Sidenote: it kind of angers me that my local library labeled this as fiction, instead of the biography/non-fiction that it is. Almost as if women telling their stories of pain and disability in this format isn't real enough for those categories. But maybe it's not that deep. I don't know).
(Sidenote: it kind of angers me that my local library labeled this as fiction, instead of the biography/non-fiction that it is. Almost as if women telling their stories of pain and disability in this format isn't real enough for those categories. But maybe it's not that deep. I don't know).
Merged review:
A raw, beautiful, haunting, and flowing mix of diary entries, poetry, and creative non-fiction. The book chronicles the author's experience with chronic illness, pain, water, and the seemingly never-ending cycle between being unwell and (almost) well, and believed and questioned about the validity of one's disability. She includes the beautiful and the ugly. It's strange and hypnotic, but I'm into that kind of thing.
(Sidenote: it kind of angers me that my local library labeled this as fiction, instead of the biography/non-fiction that it is. Almost as if women telling their stories of pain and disability in this format isn't real enough for those categories. But maybe it's not that deep. I don't know).