When Breath Becomes Air, by Paul Kalanithi
Paul Kalanithi was on his way to becoming a neurosurgeon when he was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer in his last year of residency, at the age of 36. The book was written after his diagnosis, and describes his personal journey to find meaning in his life in the face of imminent death.
I feel strongly that anything but glowing praise for this book is somehow blasphemous but to be totally honest, I didn’t love it. Kalanithi gets a little too metaphysical for my taste, and his writing is a little too awkward. Obviously the basic story is sad, and the pain he has to endure is real. And there are little anecdotes which reveal aspects of end-of-life thinking that were unexpected (for example, he and his wife decide to have a baby using sperm frozen prior to his chemotherapy, and they have to clarify with the clinic that they don’t want any extra embryos created during the insemination process in order to spare his wife from having to decide what to do with the last of his living DNA … gawd!!). But then there are other stories that make you ask yourself “what was he thinking??” (for example, weak with stage IV terminal cancer he makes the decision to resume his residency, doing gruelling 14-16 hour days of work during which he can barely stay on his feet which cannot have added to his extremely limited lifespan). But then, who am I to judge the choices one makes in such a situation?
Ultimately, Kalanithi’s writing is just not that inspired, which is almost more sad than anything, since that was one of his life goals. Surprisingly, there is an epilogue written by his wife Lucy that is actually lovely, and the best and most moving part of the book.
Rating: Skip it. Unless you love metaphysics, then I suppose you could consider it …