The result is certain unpredictability to an otherwise fixed historical timeline. The chapter names sometimes act as clever foreshadowing, and in some cases, a wry form of misleading. This presentation choice could easily have gone the way of overdone trope, but instead it’s used in sparing measure-with a reverent balance of gallows humor and haunting profundity. When a book is narrated by Death itself, one doesn’t proceed with the expectation of sunshine and happiness. (And I owe thanks to everyone who warned me not to let the slowness of the beginning dissuade me.) Once the story finally does pick up, it sucks you in with dread hopefulness and rending empathy. The subject matter made this reader hesitate initially to take it on, but enough endorsement finally pushed me over the edge. A gutting, wrenching, reverberating work of heart.
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