Why a cancer memoir is the hottest new book club read
It’s Wednesday night in the Resurrection Church of the Nazarene in Kips Bay. Ten people are seated in a circle, sharing their thoughts on the meaning of life. Secrets are revealed that haven’t been shared with anyone.
A self-help group? Not exactly. It’s an iteration of a book group formed around the memoir “When Breath Becomes Air” by Paul Kalanithi, a Stanford neurosurgeon who died from cancer in March 2015 at age 37.
Reaching the top of the bestseller list as soon as it was published in January, it’s become a must-read for book clubs around the city — from a Larchmont, NY, living room to a cozy Fort Greene, Brooklyn, yoga studio. Recently, the memoir became the book of choice for the Association of Women’s Surgeons.
Kalanithi’s account of his diagnosis and acceptance of death’s inevitability was written during the last months of his life and finished posthumously by his wife, Lucy. He’s both a patient and an Ivy League-educated doctor, giving him a unique perspective, and his book chronicles the exact point when the so-called American dream is cruelly yanked away. A tumor is discovered in Kalanithi’s lungs. His daughter is born; she plays by his bed as he takes his last breaths.
“It’s a love story that really makes you think about who matters most in your life,” says Patty Craft, 53, a grant writer from Washington Heights who attended the Kips Bay meeting.
Despite its dark themes, it’s sparking difficult conversations that go well beyond tepid “Did you like the book?” clichés. “We don’t have the right words to talk about cancer and mortality,” says Caroline Edlund, a coordinator at CancerCare, a nonprofit that provides counseling to cancer patients and their families. “But when [people] can read [about] someone else’s experience and empathize with it, there’s suddenly a language to discuss those fears.”
And explore what it means to be human. “At the end of the day, everyone wants to know the answer to the question, ‘What makes a good life?’” says Paul Sartell Moore, minister of the Resurrection Church.
“Even though Paul only had a few months to live, he made them matter,” adds 30-something Williamsburg, Brooklyn, editor Alyssa Kolsky Hertzig. “It made me realize that, yes, change can happen and life is fleeting.”
No matter where the conversation leads, readers find that talking about death is the best way to reinvigorate their own lives. “Go for broke,” says Moore. “Take the trip, pour the bottle of reserve wine, and make time for enjoying each new sunrise, sunset [and] breath of air — right now.”
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