Jo Jo Jo itibaren Hückelhoven, Almanya itibaren Hückelhoven, Almanya

** spoiler alert ** I began this book last last night while sitting in my car waiting for someone. I was struggling to read in the shadows of the dome light and wondering if I should really be reading this book. I just know it's going to have a sad ending :( Chills ran down my neck and arms as I read the last sentence of the introduction, and I knew I was in for a tearjerker... I also could tell by Myron's writing style that it would be a quick read and one I would probably enjoy even with the ending I know is coming! Already by the end of chapter one, I was teary thinking about the cold winter night and that tiny little kitten that was huddled in the book drop. I was so happy for him as he was held in everyone's arms like a baby and looked up at them with large eyes full of gratitude. It made me think of my own cat when she was tiny and made helpless by some poisonous flea treatment. Ughh...so I finished the book about 11:30 last night and cried myself to sleep. My cat (oh so not a Dewey) stared at me like I was crazy then licked herself and went back to bed and hubby snored on :) Now my eyes hurt from the saline in them all night.... I liked the story of Dewey more than I like the actual book. The author detailed a lot of her time growing up in Iowa and raising her child. I didn't expect that based on the book title. I was amused though by the way she chose to tell some of her stories and by the interpretations she made of Dewey's thoughts and actions. All in all, the book just left me with a sentimental feeling about the importance and need for close family and friends and be sure to enjoy every day because we don't know when the end of the road marker will appear. I also wanted to pick up my cat and smother her with hugs...good thing it was late and I have a conscious thing about disturbing her when she's sleeping. Giving this book four stars because I doubt I'll read it again, although it certainly was touching and a quick read.

Allen Mandelbaum's translation

"The rocks are broken into sand, and each grain… eventually… is broken down further. And as each grief crashes into us, we are broken too. We are rendered down and broken apart. Maybe some scientist could determine our ages by the size and number of pieces into which we’ve been broken? Maybe she could look at our pieces and measure the weight in impact of every grief and joy and agony. Maybe." This book came very highly recommended to me by several of my pals on Goodreads. It took me a while to get my hands on a copy; it seemed that every bookstore I ventured into was out of stock. And now I see why. "Jessica Z." is a story that grips you from the very first page. I read the entire book in less than 24 hours. It was completely different than I expected it to be. There is quite a variation of flavors in this novel: love, suspicion, betrayal, paranoia, understanding, secrets, comfort and realization (to name a few). The story is very modern and unassuming - the reader is taken through various stages of each of Jessica's relationships and comes to care about every single character in the tale; even the seemingly insignificant ones. I am not one to summarize the story in my reviews, for fear of revealing too much and ruining the experience of the book for a would-be reader. Because of this, it is hard to write a conclusive review on "Jessica Z." There is so much going on here! Read it - you will not be disappointed. What I took from this book was a gentle reminder of the fact that life, while impermanent, is definitely what you make of it. Silly every day things that may seem mundane at times can actually be missed when they are gone. There is something to be said about the contentment of daily life; while every thing you do may not seem to be making you supremely happy, the little things pile up into something much more. There is a wholeness achieved by daily living, by the things we take for granted. Morning coffee, taking the long way home because we feel like it, a piece of chocolate after dinner... these tiny things that make us feel oh so good. Something big doesn't have to happen to us every day in order to feel content. What happened to being happy because we choose to be happy? People are too wrapped up in competition with each other: bigger houses, nicer cars... and for what? Competition is toxic. I have never really understood it and have never been a competitive person. I worry about myself and loved ones. I do what I need to do in order to make myself happy. And I do it every day, even if I need to remind myself at times.