The only thing less hospitable than a grieving mind is a desert. It doesn’t feel like life is able to survive, but by some miracle, it does — as long as you don’t get lost.
Melissa Broder’s third novel Death Valley is a surrealist story about anticipatory grief that is as wryly funny as it is moving. Broder curls moments of devastation softly towards moments of the mundane: It’s a book for those, who, in the wake of grief still have to do the pesky life housekeeping of making Amazon.com returns or pulling over at a Circle K to pee and buy beef jerky.
Read Full Article »