I knew I should have been moved and blown away by this book. I was not. I should have felt emotionally connected to the author. I did not. I should have sped through this book without stop - well, yes but that was because it was short. I feel oddly guilty that I did not love this. But a large part of it was Strauss's detached writing style which never quite convinced me of the impact Celine's death had on him. Yes, intuitively I knew that he was affected but I never felt it.

But considering that he mainly wrote this book for himself, that is okay. I hope he found whatever he was looking for in this book. And yet... I found the entire book a bit crass. The one moment that stuck with me was when Strauss's date berated him for thinking about himself rather than thinking about Celine. I think that if she had read this book, his date would say the same thing again. While it was very introspective about his feelings and guilt, and how the accident impacted him, there was very little thought given to how the accident affected other people other than when those other people directly interacted with him. The whole thing came off as rather selfish, and the publication of the book very self-serving. Strauss talks about how he could never open up in therapy, so he took to writing it down. I understand that writing is cathartic and healing. But then to publish it just strikes me as profiting from Celine's death.

Review copy courtesy of the publisher. ( )

I did review this book 10 years ago when I received it and do not understand why now with the new system it show up as thought I did not do so. In the past it showed up as reviewed. this is confusing to me. ( )

I am drawn to books about how people deal with death of young people due to a personal experience. I found his book moving. He is a lyrical writer and I'm intrigued by him - may need to look into some of his other books. ( )

I was 100+ pages in before I realized this wasn't a novel. A remarkable, measured response to a life after trauma. A strong case for the idea that simple self-honesty is hard won and needs no embellishment. Worth it for the bad psychotherapy. ( )

I flew through this book and really wavered on whether to give it three or four stars. The first half--which is to say, the first 90-odd pages--is compelling reading. The second half meanders and becomes repetitive and a bit dull, although the writing is elegant and beautiful throughout. I agree with some other reviewers that the author is overly anxious that we see him as a good person; he is clearly a good person and the accident was clearly not his fault. Just as clearly, he still harbors more guilt over it than he seems willing to admit. I also thought he was a bit hard on himself throughout--he was eighteen, of course he was worried about what other people would think of him; this doesn't make him a bad person or even particularly self-centered. ( )