When Seth's mom is diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's, Seth embarks on a journey ostensibly to learn as much about the disease as possible. In reality, his amateur scientific method is an attempt to learn about the secrets his mom kept of her family.
His search leads him to Abel.
While Seth's mom forgets bits and pieces of her life, Abel wants to forget the past that haunts...
more When Seth's mom is diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's, Seth embarks on a journey ostensibly to learn as much about the disease as possible. In reality, his amateur scientific method is an attempt to learn about the secrets his mom kept of her family.
His search leads him to Abel.
While Seth's mom forgets bits and pieces of her life, Abel wants to forget the past that haunts him. At the same time, he fights a new neighborhood of McMansions that want to forget the history of Texas, namely by kicking him out of his farm home.
Block's writing is raw and emotional with interesting phraseology. He weaves together threads of folklore, science, an imaginative genetic history reaching back a few centuries, and the stories of Seth and Abel, each in their own journeys of forgetting, remembering, and disappearing. He gives us characters who desire to master nothingness, even as they fight it in their loved ones. Seth and Abel each want to be invisible in their cruel worlds.
Points in his writing hint at influences from Edith Wharton, Thoreau, and even a bit of Victor Hugo's architectural ramblings, although Block addresses his architectural commentary repetively rather than in a sophisticated manner as Hugo does.
Some of Block's writing is underdeveloped. For example, Seth and Abel's voices are too much alike, even given the ties that bind them, and their irritations suggest that these are the author's pet peeves given through these characters. At times, his development is weak. He relies on a piling of questions rather than going to the layer beneath those questions. Finally, while the story is compelling and draws you in, the ending is weak. I wanted more development in one area and less cop-out with finishing with a genetic history, that while interesting in the threads throughout the book, in its finality becomes dribblings.
What bothered me most, though, was his premise that forgetting is ideal. If we could only completely forget our pain, past wars, even language, only then can we be completely happy. I find this perspective both naive and against my Christian beliefs.
In regards to its naivete, it is precisely by forgetting pain and wars and past atrocities that we give room for their repetition. If we don't remember what led to the Holocaust (and how horrid it was), we naively allow it to happen again. We write books and movies, create art and music not to forget about the pain but to enter into it, echo it, and redeem it.
Which brings me to my second point. The ideal of forgetting is against the Christian story. Yes, God will wipe away our tears, but no where does it say he will wipe away our memories. The point is not that we forget but that God redeems everything through his victory over it. Example: Christ's resurrected body bears the scars of his greatest pain. We will never in all eternity, even as we dance in joy on the new, re-created, restored earth, forget the sacrifice Christ made.
That being said, overall, I enjoyed the book for Block's witty writing and unique story about early-onset Alzheimers and would recommend it.
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