Since I've long been such an avid reader (luster after books-er), it's time I start writing about them, perhaps sharing what I've learned, or at least spoiling a good thing or two (or not) for anyone else who cares (or doesn't). In any case, I'll start with the best--and coincidentally latest--book I've finished this month: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby, former editor of the French version of Elle.

The gist: Famous editor of famous French magazine suffers a sudden stroke in his early 40s and ends up in a coma, then in a condition known as "locked-in" where he is still fully mentally functional but is nearly completely paralyzed... all he can move, in fact (at least at first), is one eye, with which he develops a means of communication with friends, family, and any doctors patient enough to learn and participate... and through this communication, he dictates a beautiful memoir of his life, his thoughts and dreams, and his reaction to his sudden and inevitably fatal condition.

Beyond just looking at this as a remarkable piece of observatory writing, full of longing, resignation, frustration, sadness, and humor, I was struck by the sheer expression of will that creating this book entailed, the capacity of the human mind to solidify thoughts, structure, emotion, phrasing, to dwell in memories and extract life from them, the patience in transcribing such rich detail from just the blink of an eye to capture the world of a man whose world has locked him inside his own body. I admit it, I cried more than once... both from experiencing the sadness of being misunderstood, the frustration of not being able to express oneself, the pain of watching others react in varying levels of discomfort, anger, and fear, and from the realization of how this story came to be.

Inspiring, yes--would I in the same situation be able to handle it in the same way? Would I give up and expire without attempting to reach outside of myself? How many other people are withering away in silence because the outside world doesn't view them as capable or responsive anymore? What opportunities have I missed in assuming someone wouldn't understand me? I remember someone (maybe my grandma?) once telling me that her mind didn't change or feel different than it had when she was a youth--it was just the body that became limited, and the mind was just as active and eager as ever, only frustrated at not being able to act on its own whims in the same way.

What impressed me sharply about this book, other than wanting to make the most of every day and fill it with learning and memories and life, was the depth of the characters surrounding Bauby, how they changed (or didn't change) in reaction to him, how his inability to respond to them changed their perception of him, and how he both fought and agonized over it and came to find peace with his inability to do more. Acceptance of others' reactions, acceptance of their fear, understanding.

This is a beautiful book, a quick read sure, but one that can be lingered over thoughtfully. Highly recommended.

Check it out on Amazon here.