Kathryn Schulz had never liked euphemisms for dying; however, ten days after his death she heard herself saying, “I lost my father” because that is how she felt. Her beloved father had been enormously important to her and she had sat by his bedside in the hospital and then the hospice for many long weeks, having to accept that he would soon die. She researched the word “lost” in all its connotations and discovered it had its roots in sorrow. The first part of this memoir deals with what can be lost: minds, lives, self-consciousness, treasures, a species, a father. I have been thinking a lot lately about my approaching (stop kidding yourself!) old age and that I will lose my loved ones, rather than that they will lose me, and I drank in her brilliant, insightful words as if she had written them for me.
Found, the second, and largest, section of the book begins with a true story of a boy who found a meteorite, having watched it hurtling through the sky until it came to rest somewhere near where he was, he was sure. The entire section is devoted, principally, to Kathryn’s search for love, which she found. She writes beautiful words about the meaning of love and about the person she finally found and fell in love with.
The third section is about the word, “and”, its relevance in the English language and “…the role it plays as a kind of linguistic superglue”. I did not know that originally the alphabet comprised the letters A to Z and ended with an ampersand. This fascinating chapter includes references to the dinosaurs, Dante and Shakespeare.
This is a philosophical work and a personal memoir and a truly lovely book.
Published by Picador, an imprint of Pan Macmillan
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