Notes on: The Grief of Others

Lately my train rides have passed without complaint, thanks to Leah Hager Cohen’s The Grief of Others. I’ve managed to keep up my late night and I-wish-my-commute-was-longer reading sessions from Perrotta’s The Leftovers on into this next book.

I’m a little over halfway through, and I anticipate having a review ready and up in the next couple weeks, but in the meantime I thought I’d drop a few tasty morsels that I jotted down hurriedly yesterday afternoon.

The vast spearmint distance she felt between herself and everyone — everything — else was almost, she imagined, what royals must feel, and forevermore Ricky would link mourning with royalty, and royalty with mourning; for the rest of her days, the words king and queen would remind her of deep sorrow.

The Grief of Others, page 135

And, possible spoiler alert!

The blow of discovery had been oddly somatic, like a two-by-four to the groin, and it was compounded by the awful banality of the sequence: suspicion, inquiry, denial, retreat; suspicion, inquiry, confession, disintegration of the known world.

The guy was some Wall Street coworker asshole; Ricky herself called him that. John never laid eyes on him and was glad. Ricky didn’t care for him, she said. It had been a “thing,” that’s all, the word she used to dismiss it, and John saw it in his mind as just that: a shiny, dangling, tangible thing, a piece of tinsel, maybe, and she a witless magpie who couldn’t help herself.

The Grief of Others, page 145

I actually “jotted” these quotes and notes down on my phone, something I usually don’t do, but faced with balancing an umbrella, a backpack, and a hardcover book, I opted for the phone in my pocket rather than the notebook in my backpack, under my lunchbox. What’s your preferred method of notetaking?

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