Grief is the Thing with Feathers by Max Porter

I finished this book in one sitting after finally getting it at the bookstore. It’s extraordinary, it’s brilliant. It’s poetry, it’s “polyphonic fable”, it’s something you may have never read before. Read the synopsis and you’ll be intrigued by the concept being proposed. Read the book and you’ll grief and laugh without feeling apologetic. You’ll get lost in a fantasy-reality. You’ll sigh at the carefully chosen words and hold your breath every time a paragraph sings – melodious. You’ll stumble upon rhyme every once in a while but you won’t feel they’re overly done. In fact, you’ll be looking forward to them. The rhymes and its beautiful appearance. It’s intensely British (and I loved it). You may be intrigued by the crow or be very curious about how the Mother died. Myself, I did not rush. I lamented with Dad (fell in love with Dad a bit), laughed with Boys, and lingered as Crow. At the end of my read, I want to stand there by the sea and pull the three of them into my arms and give a big, long hug, then say ‘I know you don’t think you are, but you are so lucky to own this love for each other. It is more than what most people have in their lives.’ This is contemporary art. Light yet full of depth.

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