If hope is the thing with feathers that perches in your soul (Emily Dickinson) then grief is the thing with feathers which perches in your heart.
Grief’s feathers are black and heavy.
I read this book recently (pictured above). I don’t know why I chose it – I think it chose me. It is a difficult thing to describe except to say, if you have ever been touched by grief than this is the book that you should reach for to tune into your sorrow.
And sorrow needs to be tuned into and experienced. It should not be muffled, shut down, medicated away or denied. There is a time for sorrow in every persons life – sometimes several.
Sorrow, sadness, grief, melanochly are all natural emotions for humans to feel. These days it seems that there must only be bright smile and keep up or medication to make it happen. Half of society sees to be on some prescription pill or other for what, I’m sure, if allowed to simply be held and experienced, would naturally sort itself out.
But I’m no doctor. I am however a reader and I loved this book.
By writing of his grief and that of his two young boys (after losing their wife and mother) Max Porter has allowed for their pain to be honoured. I don’t know if those are the correct words to describe it “honouring pain”I do know however that I felt honoured to be able to read such a beautifully rendered piece of work.
It is a book which is written in a highly individual way, some call it poetry and it certainly has that lyrical sense about it. It’s by turns darkly funny and by turns just dark yet it is lovely even then. This is a deeply evocative and authentic book – it will open your heart and let the thing with dark feathers out to sing.
