A Matter of Death and Life

By: Marilyn Yalom, Irvin D. Yalom / Narrated By: Jim Frangione, Pam Ward

Length: 6 hrs and 39 mins

Sooo going against the reviews but: This is what happens when an Existentialist faces death, and it ain’t pretty…

Up front, I’m not unaware of Irving Yalom’s reputation as a fine therapist, and I’ve gotta tell ya, I snatched up Staring at the Sun when it was a kindle sale and I could get the paired audiobook for cheap. That one is about “Overcoming the Terror of Death” which, really, how can that NOT be good?! There’s a whole new branch of therapy based on Mortality Awareness, I’m studying to be an End of Life Doula. So jeez, ya know? I’m sooo up for death death death. And of how it shapes who we are right here, right now, living each moment.

That said? Dude, if you wish to face the future, come to terms with death? I mean, no judgement (But I’m gonna unABASHedly assess and contemplate my next judge-y statement), it miiiight help you face the future if you did NOT unABASHedly think the whole: We’re Just Food For Worms deal. Maybe it would help some, and I’m not promoting any one faith and I think organized religion can be hurtful hogwash, if you could look someone in the eye and NOT think, oh gosh s/he is gonna rot in a grave, that’s it, done, over, no longer in my Life.

Cuz when his much-loved, much-treasured wife Marilyn is diagnosed with her terminal illness, it all hits the fan in the most extraordinary way possible.

The two are at completely opposite ends of the acceptance of life/death spectrum. Marilyn, who’s doing the dying, is pushing for assisted suicide, and Irv is clinging, denying, pushing therapy after therapy after therapy. ConTINually badgering her with: Whaa? How can you wanna die now? Wasn’t that brief handholding yesterday worth it all? Yeh yeh yeh, you’re in dire amounts of pain, and your body has just become one huge vaaast torture chamber… but honey, think of the sunsets you’ll be missing!

THAT sooo would make me wanna chug down the death-inducing meds, like, posthaste. I know, I know. I’m being ridiculously dismissive of his pain, but gosh: It’s gonna happen to each of us, and as Marilyn noted, life ending when you’re in your 80s, a life with creature comforts, good friends, an awesome family? That’s a fanTAStic ride. Death when you’re in your 40s is a tragedy; death in your 80s, not so much, kinda sorta a source of rejoicing.

Irv browbeats her, and Marilyn gets more and more extreme: He wants her to grit her teeth and live forever; she just wants to get it over with, having truly difficult conversations with his unyielding wall of denial. And her forever solicitude, her attempt to help Irv cope is what this book, A Matter of Death and Life, is all about. Written and expressed in alternating chapters, both Irv and Marilyn express their deepest thoughts and dearest wishes. But Irv lives Marilyn’s death a thousand times, wasting the precious time he has with her with his browbeating. Marilyn holds on mightily cuz she knows Irv will be a basket case without her.

And he is. He continues the chapters after Marilyn has chosen assisted suicide, and danged if it ain’t all a bit disturbing. I applaud that he brings issues forth, such as a sudden and overwhelming sex drive taking over during grief. But I wanna whack him over the head with his complete acceptance that he (Or anyone!) should be well-through the process in a year, maybe two at the max. Ya experience anniversaries, birthdays, holidays all by your lonesome through the course of a year, so you should be set after the year. Currently, I’m feeling a bit of ire that Grief That Lasts More Than A Year is now considered a diagnosable illness by the psychiatric community, making me think people who grieve in their own way, in their own time, are suddenly going to be viewed as sick, maybe even medicated. Jeeeeez!!!

Anyhoo! On to narration. Okay, considering Yalom’s in his 80s, I thought Jim Frangione was an odd choice as he sounded so young and robust. And Pam Ward being Marilyn? Well, she sounded like a doddering li’l ol’ lady a Boy Scout would escort across a street. I mean, the pair do well enough with the deep thoughts, the deep emotions, but I’d reconsider the casting. Not enough to Boo the pair, just… whyyyy?!

I’m feeling pretty done now. And if you don’t believe there’s anything after (I happen to believe energy cannot be destroyed… dunno how exactly it works for m’self, but I’m at peace), this book is for YOU! Seriously, if you wanna see how to grieve hard, how to fear with your whole mind, heart, and lack of soul, hear ya go: Just know that you might find yourself horny as an old He-Goat.

That’s m’ takeaway, totally going against the Rave Reviews, cuz gosh I truly thought that, if you’re not going to believe in something richer, a loving Universe, you’d at LEAST be living each day as tho’ it mattered.

Uhm, nope… I am excEEEEEdingly uninspired…

And that, my friend, is kinda a tragedy…

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