TweekaleE says: This is a hard book to rate as it's almost TOO painful to read: if you've read the summary, you know it's the story of a woman who lost her parents, husband, and two sons in the 2004 tsunami that struck Sri Lanka. From the beginning, the book reads as if we are immersed in a dream world with Deraniyagala: it's post-Christmas and her family is at a beach resort 200 miles from Columbo when she notices the waves are weirdly crashing near her family's bungalow (past a stand of trees a...nd a dune). By the time they leave, the damage is done and their escape Jeep is trapped in the 30-foot high wall of water. Only she survives.It's a harrowing story. What I initially really respected about this was also its downfall: Sonali is NOT likable at all for a good chunk of the book. She's selfish: she doesn't knock on her parents' door (next door to hers) when her family is leaving their bungalow; in the aftermath of the wave, she is rude to everyone she encounters from well-meaning nurses to children in need of comfort; she is blithely inconsiderate to her entire family and friends in the UK who work to make sure that she is safe and that her economic needs are taken care of. It rare in memoir to read such an honest account of someone being so self-involved.She also wallows after she loses her family and it's so SO ugly. Like the worst kind of ugly with a drinking and a pill issue, screaming at people who are trying to help her, immersing herself in suicidal thoughts, googling everything she can about the tsunami when she's drunk and high to cause herself emotional pain. It's nasty stuff. And it's hard to figure out why we should be rooting for this woman who seems hellbent on having this TERRIBLE AWFUL event be the defining moment of her life. But I still stuck with her.The problem here is that it also clearly illuminates that this is the only bad thing that has ever happened to Sonali (and this is a bad thing, don't get me wrong). She led a relatively wealthy, charmed life in Columbo before she left for university at Cambridge when she was 18, where she met and later married her husband. In time, they both completed their doctorates and settled into academic professions as economists and had two boys. This is a difficult review to write because I don't mean to suggest that losing so many loved ones in a flood at once isn't terribly traumatic but it becomes clear after a while that her lack of perspective (others lost their families, others suffered, she doesn't or can't give any shits) is really a personal issue of privilege. She literally cannot conceive of anyone's pain but her own. She has a brother who also lost THE SAME parents and is angry at him for taking care of their family estate. She seems to be unable to grasp that her husband's family has lost their son and might be able to understand her pain at losing her sons. This goes on for YEARS, people. YEARS. It takes her three and a half years to go to her family's home in the UK from where she's been hiding out with her wealthy family in Sri Lanka. There is an absurd amount of privilege involved in someone not having to deal with their personal affairs for that long. I cannot even imagine having the kind of security blanket that would enable me to shut out the world for almost four years.Again, this is a weird review to write since everyone is entitled to grieve as they must but I'm not sure that everyone's grieving makes for a noteworthy reading experience. The writing here is really what makes the book. It's lyrical and lovely and transports you to another place. There were many sentences I read over again to savor. Solidly middle of the road on this one. juicystar07 says: Let me preface this review by stating I am in no way judging how someone grieves. Grief is an extremely personal thing, and each person grieves in their own way. That said, I just could not relate to the author in any way whatsoever. It was not just the fact that I have never undergone a loss such as hers, it was that I couldn't even relate to her as a mother or as a person. Pre-loss, she comes across as the kind of person that thinks she is just a little bit better than everyone else. To me, she came off as snobby and arrogant. Post-loss, she didn't get any better. I think from the very beginning of the book, I questioned her choices. Not knocking on her parent's door, not searching for her family, not helping the little boy that was near her - all of this added up to her being a "bad" person (in my humble opinion). Her grief process even threw me for a loop. She doesn't talk so much about how much she misses her family, but rather how much she enjoyed her free time before they died, how annoying she sometimes found her kids and their questions, how much she liked her nights out with her husband. Yes, that's normal, but not something I expect to hear from a grieving mother. And there was the whole treatment of the Dutch family that moved into her parent's house. What was that even about? Those poor people had absolutely nothing to do with the author's situation, yet she took her anger out on them. Repeatedly. Again, I'm not judging her grief. It's something I cannot even begin to imagine. I just go back to her as a person, and I don't like what I see.I am a crier. I cry over commercials, I cry over military homecoming videos, I cry when I'm happy, I cry when I'm sad. This book did not make me shed a single tear. I found the author so completely unrelated that she didn't even stir my sympathies. Finally, and I know it's frivolous, but I got hung up on the fact she didn't return to her house for four years. How did she afford that? What did she do for a living? Who took care of the house? Most people that are grieving return to the house they shared with their loved ones within a day or two. She waited four years. I just don't understand it. Again, frivolous for me to worry about, but something that stuck in my head nonetheless. I thought this book would stir emotions in me, and make me cry with the author. It didn't, not at all.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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