One hundred years of Lenni and Margot
“Living and dying are both complete mysteries, and you can’t know either until you have done both.”
Describe in one line:
A teenager, an 83-year-old woman and a terminal hospital ward. A 100 years’ worth of experiences between them both and a race against time to share them with each other.
My thoughts and lots of feelings:
When I first started reading the book, I was apprehensive. Two characters with terminal illnesses and my anxious brain couldn’t help but brace for a sob story. I anticipated some gut-wrenching trauma and assumed I would be reliving my worst memories through this book, and intentionally so because how else does a person vent? Surprisingly, this book did none of that. The eventuality may be death, but the undertone was irony and acceptance. There was nothing sad about this book that wasn’t happy and that is a hard task to accomplish. In the fold of death, they each found their lives and in the folds of life, they embraced their death.
Like the book for:
I like the book for its storytelling and yes, that’s what all books do. However, this book weaved it with strength and fragility, like a spider weaves its web, through conversations about not just dying and its inevitability. One thing this book reminds the reader of often is “Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”
Favorite quote:
“The cruelty of strangers usually never upsets me, but the kindness of strangers is oddly devastating.”
