This is a very difficult book to read, but there is no technical reason for this. Didion is so open, exposed, and forthcoming with her rememberances that one feels very uncomfortable, as if you were trespassing in her skin. Without this discomforting awkwardness, the book would not possess the depth of power one experiences from her relatively simple prose.

Didion is haunted and consumed in a futile attempt to figure out how to fix the problem - how to bring John back - or at least, how she missed the signs that this was indeed coming. A number of times, I found myself reading in bed, having to put the book down, and just remind myself that Brandon was still here, and that I am fortunate, and that I should cherish these moments - the simplicity of reading in bed with one's life partner. Joan's description of the void, the lonely void, in her life is gripping and tragic, yet too too common, and there is a 50% chance that I will experience this myself. For now, I should choose to enjoy the small moments.