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A Short History of Falling: Everything I Observed About Love Whilst Dying
A Short History of Falling – like The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, and When Breath Becomes Air – is a searingly beautiful, profound and unforgettable memoir that finds light and even humour in the darkest of places.
We keep an old shoebox, Gill and I, nestled in a drawer in our room. It’s filled with thirty-three birthday cards for our two young sons: one for every year I’ll miss until they’re twenty-one. I wrote them because, since the end of 2017, I’ve been living with – and dying from – motor neurone disease.
This book is about the process of saying goodbye. To my body, as I journey from unexpected clumsiness to a wheelchair that resembles a spacecraft, with rods and pads and dials and bleeps. To this world, as I play less of a part in it and find myself floating off into unlighted territory. To Gill, my wife. To Tom and Jimmy.
A Short History of Falling is about the sadness (and the anger, and the fear), but it’s about what’s beautiful too. It’s about love and fatherhood, about the precious experience of observing my last moments with this body, surrounded by the people who matter most. It’s about what it feels like to confront the fact that my family will persist through time with only a memory of me. In many ways, it has been the most amazing time of my life.
We keep an old shoebox, Gill and I, nestled in a drawer in our room. It’s filled with thirty-three birthday cards for our two young sons: one for every year I’ll miss until they’re twenty-one. I wrote them because, since the end of 2017, I’ve been living with – and dying from – motor neurone disease.
This book is about the process of saying goodbye. To my body, as I journey from unexpected clumsiness to a wheelchair that resembles a spacecraft, with rods and pads and dials and bleeps. To this world, as I play less of a part in it and find myself floating off into unlighted territory. To Gill, my wife. To Tom and Jimmy.
A Short History of Falling is about the sadness (and the anger, and the fear), but it’s about what’s beautiful too. It’s about love and fatherhood, about the precious experience of observing my last moments with this body, surrounded by the people who matter most. It’s about what it feels like to confront the fact that my family will persist through time with only a memory of me. In many ways, it has been the most amazing time of my life.
272 pages, Paperback
Published April 6, 2021
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 69 reviews
December 21, 2019
I feel torn by this book.
I know that given the subject matter and the recent death of the author, it should feel profound and deeply impactful. But in honesty, i didn’t like it.
It felt like a self-indulgent exercise from the author - and in fairness, rightly so! Why shouldn’t he be self-indulgent.
But as a result, I’m not sure it should have been published. Not that it’s poorly written and not fit for paper, but because it’s not for us. It’s for him, and his family, and his children, to read as part of the legacy of their father and a glimpse into his mind and character decades down the line.
The publication is almost an afterthought as it doesn’t hugely work as a book because of that.
But by the nature of the book that it is, if feels wrong to admit that i didn’t like it. Like not giving it 5* stars makes whoever poorly reviews it a bad person.
Which means I’m torn, because you can’t speak I’ll of someone who can’t defend their book. And you can’t speak I’ll of a book that doesn’t by its very subject matter warrant a defence. It is what is it. You may like it, you may not. That’s up to anyone to decide.
I know that given the subject matter and the recent death of the author, it should feel profound and deeply impactful. But in honesty, i didn’t like it.
It felt like a self-indulgent exercise from the author - and in fairness, rightly so! Why shouldn’t he be self-indulgent.
But as a result, I’m not sure it should have been published. Not that it’s poorly written and not fit for paper, but because it’s not for us. It’s for him, and his family, and his children, to read as part of the legacy of their father and a glimpse into his mind and character decades down the line.
The publication is almost an afterthought as it doesn’t hugely work as a book because of that.
But by the nature of the book that it is, if feels wrong to admit that i didn’t like it. Like not giving it 5* stars makes whoever poorly reviews it a bad person.
Which means I’m torn, because you can’t speak I’ll of someone who can’t defend their book. And you can’t speak I’ll of a book that doesn’t by its very subject matter warrant a defence. It is what is it. You may like it, you may not. That’s up to anyone to decide.
December 29, 2020
This book is about a man - husband and and father of two young boys - who learns that he’s got a neuromuscular disease. He knows that he’s got about two years before the disease will kill him and he will become a quadriplegic ever so slowly. Spoiler: he did in fact die in 2019.
He did not write this to inspire others. He wrote it to leave a piece of himself for his sons. The rest of us, will naturally feel humbled and lucky and devastated and I felt all of that. I also felt scared. His writing is so good that you feel the very real prospect of losing everything that you can see, touch, see, feel, taste, and love because you are in it with him and he is losing all of that as he writes.
But I cannot help but be self referencing. I have had a hard time in my life in the last 3 years and as terrifying things unfolded, I found myself constantly asking myself, “Can we survive that?” I would do a calculation to see how we could survive each new terror and we have. This book had me look long and hard at that experience. What if, when I asked myself if we could survive these things, the answer was an unequivocal no? What if you knew that you would not survive what you were going through? How would that change your outlook and how can that perspective change mine? I can’t answer that in this review but I owe myself that answer and I will journal about it. When a book makes you turn inwards like this, it’s done its job.
I am grateful to this man for what he left behind. Bless his little family.
He did not write this to inspire others. He wrote it to leave a piece of himself for his sons. The rest of us, will naturally feel humbled and lucky and devastated and I felt all of that. I also felt scared. His writing is so good that you feel the very real prospect of losing everything that you can see, touch, see, feel, taste, and love because you are in it with him and he is losing all of that as he writes.
But I cannot help but be self referencing. I have had a hard time in my life in the last 3 years and as terrifying things unfolded, I found myself constantly asking myself, “Can we survive that?” I would do a calculation to see how we could survive each new terror and we have. This book had me look long and hard at that experience. What if, when I asked myself if we could survive these things, the answer was an unequivocal no? What if you knew that you would not survive what you were going through? How would that change your outlook and how can that perspective change mine? I can’t answer that in this review but I owe myself that answer and I will journal about it. When a book makes you turn inwards like this, it’s done its job.
I am grateful to this man for what he left behind. Bless his little family.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 3, 2021
A book which makes you think, and also strikes many chords if you have also ever been ill (either terminally or even simply been diagnosed with something chronic). The effect on what happens to the people around the patient is particularly resonant - some friends and family go into a sort of denial, and some will come and tell you their own problems and thoughts (which I liked when I had an extended stay in hospital, as it made me feel I was still a part of things and still had a role to play, but it wouldn't be appropriate for everyone). This is beautifully written, reflective, self-aware: he doesn't avoid mentioning the truly awful progressive effect of motor neurone disease, but it doesn't feel full of self-pity either, and is quite wryly amusing in places. What an achievement, too, to able to complete the book despite his advancing disabilities.
March 4, 2020
Due to the content of the book it does feel a little harsh to criticise it, but I really didn’t enjoy reading it. The writer didn’t make his story sound particularly interesting and the writing style was flat and unengaging. There was a lot of unnecessary waffle to pad the book out. It wasn’t as infomative as it could have been, and I struggled to finish it.
September 30, 2019
(3.5) “If I could just stop falling over, this would be a funnier book. I’m a big man and I’m starting to cause a lot of damage.” Hammond, a playwright, takes a wry, clear-eyed approach to his diagnosis of motor neurone disease (ALS) and the knowledge that his physical capacities will only deteriorate from here on out. “New items arrive almost daily and I am unexpectedly becoming the curator of the Museum of my own Decline.” I suspect this book has been for him a helpful way of freezing some of the funnier moments, like blowing his nose on a slice of bread because he couldn’t reach the tissue box, or spending “six hours of my fiftieth birthday sat on this hospice toilet, with a bottle of good Scotch wedged between my knees.”
Still, Hammond regrets that he’s become like a third small child for his wife Gill to look after, joining his sons Tom and Jimmy, and that he won’t see his boys grow up. (This book was born out of an article he wrote for the Guardian in 2018 about how he was writing 33 birthday cards for his sons to open in the years after his death.) After moving back to England from Portugal, they have had a bungalow in Hampshire adapted to be wheelchair-accessible, and he plans to have his ashes scattered in a bluebell wood nearby. Although I wasn’t particularly interested in the details of Hammond’s earlier life, or his relationship with his narcissistic father, I appreciated his quiet acceptance of disability, help and impending death.
Favorite lines:
“I’ve waited all my life to know this peace. To know that I am nothing more than this body.”
“my place in all of this is becoming smaller, historic and just the right size of important.”
Still, Hammond regrets that he’s become like a third small child for his wife Gill to look after, joining his sons Tom and Jimmy, and that he won’t see his boys grow up. (This book was born out of an article he wrote for the Guardian in 2018 about how he was writing 33 birthday cards for his sons to open in the years after his death.) After moving back to England from Portugal, they have had a bungalow in Hampshire adapted to be wheelchair-accessible, and he plans to have his ashes scattered in a bluebell wood nearby. Although I wasn’t particularly interested in the details of Hammond’s earlier life, or his relationship with his narcissistic father, I appreciated his quiet acceptance of disability, help and impending death.
Favorite lines:
“I’ve waited all my life to know this peace. To know that I am nothing more than this body.”
“my place in all of this is becoming smaller, historic and just the right size of important.”
July 14, 2020
‘A Short History of Falling’ is the memoirs of a writer, father and husband diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease (ALS). A mixture of memories, reflections on life and death and the experience of becoming disabled this was an extremely raw, honest and at times moving book. I think for people who have had to face the idea of death as a reality due to illness and disability you experience some universal truths that are mentioned in this book, that are also quite isolating as death is not something we talk about much, so I really appreciated that Hammond crosses this divide and wrote about it. I really think there is something in this book for everyone.
Thank you so much to Net Galley and the publisher for sending me a copy to read in exchange for an honest review.
Thank you so much to Net Galley and the publisher for sending me a copy to read in exchange for an honest review.
December 21, 2019
A moving insight
When I read Joe Hammond's final article for the Guardian, it moved me to tears. I immediately bought the book, on impulse, after discovering that he had died less than a month earlier. I then questioned whether I had the strength to read it. Truth be told, it lacks some of the poignancy of his final article but focuses in equal parts on his deterioration, his fears for the future of his family and his previous experiences which shaped his reaction to his impending demise and his strategies for coping with it.
If you are looking for a solution to death, you won't find it here but what you will find is the reassurance that, at least in some cases, it is possible to come to terms with it and find some peace behind the uncertainty.
It is a short story which for my taste, ends too soon but one can hardly complain as the same has to be said for the author's life.
It definitely bears reading more than once and is a story which will stay with you long after the last page.
When I read Joe Hammond's final article for the Guardian, it moved me to tears. I immediately bought the book, on impulse, after discovering that he had died less than a month earlier. I then questioned whether I had the strength to read it. Truth be told, it lacks some of the poignancy of his final article but focuses in equal parts on his deterioration, his fears for the future of his family and his previous experiences which shaped his reaction to his impending demise and his strategies for coping with it.
If you are looking for a solution to death, you won't find it here but what you will find is the reassurance that, at least in some cases, it is possible to come to terms with it and find some peace behind the uncertainty.
It is a short story which for my taste, ends too soon but one can hardly complain as the same has to be said for the author's life.
It definitely bears reading more than once and is a story which will stay with you long after the last page.
February 5, 2020
I have huge admiration for Joe Hammond and his family. Joe wrote with such tenderness, honesty and imagery. Ultimately, this is a very sad, touching book. One that demystifies death and makes it seem natural and creative.
I read Joe’s article in The Guardian, not realising it was his last, and the elegance of his prose caused me to buy the book. Upon finishing the book I went back to the article, to discover he had died just three weeks ago. I think of his wife, Gill, and his two sons, Tom and Jimmy, and the loss they must be feeling. And I think of myself, and my own young family, and how I might react if I was diagnosed with MND; how lucky I am; and how I cannot even conceive of writing with such insight under those circumstances.
I read Joe’s article in The Guardian, not realising it was his last, and the elegance of his prose caused me to buy the book. Upon finishing the book I went back to the article, to discover he had died just three weeks ago. I think of his wife, Gill, and his two sons, Tom and Jimmy, and the loss they must be feeling. And I think of myself, and my own young family, and how I might react if I was diagnosed with MND; how lucky I am; and how I cannot even conceive of writing with such insight under those circumstances.
November 12, 2019
There are two ways to know what the experience of Motor Neurone Disease is like. One is to develop it - I don't recommend this. The other is to read one of the many articles or books about it. This is one of the more unusual and well written books, very good indeed on some of the more bizarre and alarming aspects, like uncontrollable falls, or the constant and rapid losses as everything is stripped away. And he is good on how this changes attitudes to dying and takes away much of the fear. The narrative loops back through his life - his dysfunctional birth family and his much-loved wife (now sole carer) and two small sons. Moving and truthful.
August 20, 2021
The synopsis makes it sound as if the book is about goodbyes and death. But it wasn’t about either of these as much as it was a hard to follow recap of his childhood. I’m not sure how a book about a father dying wasn’t sad to me, but there wasn’t much emotion in this story. The author sounds like he was a wonderful man, but this book was disappointingly unemotional.
September 5, 2021
My dad has been living (and dying of) MND for 9 years. This book brought me a lot of peace. What a beautiful legacy.
February 19, 2020
>>Wenn ich nur aufhören könnte umzufallen, wäre dieses Buch lustiger.<<
„Eine kurze Geschichte vom Fallen – Was ich beim Sterben über das Leben lernte“ von Joe Hammond ist ein Buch, auf das ich mich sehr gefreut habe denn schon der Titel verhieß eine bewegende und doch hoffnungsvolle Geschichte. Letztlich ist Hammonds Schicksal und sein Weg mit der Krankheit und dem nahenden Ende umzugehen einfach bewundernswert und das Buch zeigt neben vielen Einblicken in sein Privatleben, sein Umfeld und eben den Verlauf der Krankheit seine unermüdliche Hoffnung! Er selbst versucht die Tragik des Ganzen in Humor umzuwandeln und da kann man schlicht und ergreifend nur den Hut ziehen, dass er so viel Kraft immer wieder und wieder schöpft und uns Leser daran teilhaben lässt und seine Hoffnung und positive Energie weitergibt. Man muss sich hier als Leser beim lesen immer vor Augen halten, dass es sich nicht um einen Roman handelt, sondern um ein wahres Schicksal und einen Mann, der uns genau an diesem teilhaben lässt. Das Buch ist literarisch einfach gehalten und legt den Fokus wie ich finde wirklich einfach auf Hammonds Leben, seine Krankheit und wie er und auch seine Familie damit umgeht.
Wer sich für die Motoneuron-Krankheit – eine zum Tode führende Erkrankung des motorischen Nervensystems interessiert und das ganze aus dem Augenwinkel eines Betroffenen betrachten möchte, dem kann ich dieses Buch sehr empfehlen!
„Eine kurze Geschichte vom Fallen – Was ich beim Sterben über das Leben lernte“ von Joe Hammond ist ein Buch, auf das ich mich sehr gefreut habe denn schon der Titel verhieß eine bewegende und doch hoffnungsvolle Geschichte. Letztlich ist Hammonds Schicksal und sein Weg mit der Krankheit und dem nahenden Ende umzugehen einfach bewundernswert und das Buch zeigt neben vielen Einblicken in sein Privatleben, sein Umfeld und eben den Verlauf der Krankheit seine unermüdliche Hoffnung! Er selbst versucht die Tragik des Ganzen in Humor umzuwandeln und da kann man schlicht und ergreifend nur den Hut ziehen, dass er so viel Kraft immer wieder und wieder schöpft und uns Leser daran teilhaben lässt und seine Hoffnung und positive Energie weitergibt. Man muss sich hier als Leser beim lesen immer vor Augen halten, dass es sich nicht um einen Roman handelt, sondern um ein wahres Schicksal und einen Mann, der uns genau an diesem teilhaben lässt. Das Buch ist literarisch einfach gehalten und legt den Fokus wie ich finde wirklich einfach auf Hammonds Leben, seine Krankheit und wie er und auch seine Familie damit umgeht.
Wer sich für die Motoneuron-Krankheit – eine zum Tode führende Erkrankung des motorischen Nervensystems interessiert und das ganze aus dem Augenwinkel eines Betroffenen betrachten möchte, dem kann ich dieses Buch sehr empfehlen!
May 6, 2020
A memoir by writer Joe Hammond as he triangulates his new life after a diagnosis with motor neurone disease with his previous as a husband and father. Vivid metaphors to describe the unique challenges he faces are illuminating and excellently written - you live through his passage into the new and changing normal in an intimate way. Narrative jumps about a bit so I had to restart once I had taken a couple of weeks off, but thoroughly recommend for an insight into living with a terminal illness.
August 30, 2022
Picked it up as currently loosely connected to 2 people with motor neurone. Sad but bizarrely positive. Hopped about a bit and a few too many metaphors, although some were really funny.
December 6, 2019
Very moving.
July 17, 2020
There are many sad observations and expressions in this book. Like this passage below describing a time when the author playfully pretended to be various household appliances to amuse his young kids.
"With the toaster, I keeled over because my left leg achieved the elevation my right one couldn’t. It was a buckled-cartwheel move, and when my head made impact it was the deep vibrating sound from the pipes that shocked us all. I lay back with my head wedged uncomfortably forwards against the steel pillow. After a few moments, Jimmy started crying; then Tom. I looked over at them. Their tears. Their crumpled faces. And a nasally sound like two interlinked air-raid sirens being squeezed out through their ears. There’s so much more indignity in failed silliness."
Some days with my chronic fatigue (or the unknown illness that cripples my brain and body), I feel a mixture of sadness, fear and also gratefulness. Gratefulness that at least I'm mobile and I can still enjoy the pleasures of good food and (on most days) still can lose myself in a book.
"Because the truth is that I was actually declining through this period. I just enjoyed the thought that I wasn’t. I think the fall ended one kind of hope, but it didn’t end all kinds of hope. The creative life gets harder and darker and more real. But life is not worse than it was before. It doesn’t have less value. It’s not less interesting. Not at all. As I get weaker, less a part of this world, or less a part of what I love, less a part of my family’s life, I can perceive its edges with fantastic clarity. I can lie against it, lolling my arm over the edge, running my fingers around the rim. And this is where I am."
"And waiting for it all to stop, for the body to return, to heal, because that is what the body does."
I think of myself as a pessimist or, at the very least, a realist. But at times I admit that I'm probably a closet optimist because I somehow keep trying out the next new-fangled suggestion that will supposedly cure me or at least alleviate my symptoms. Because, after all, as the author says, aren't bodies supposed to heal?
I also very much relate to the next few passages. I'm very thankful for the care from friends but I do grow weary when acquaintances (and even random strangers) pitch their solutions. And it's especially frustrating when the advice-givers believe that I'm not doing it right or not trying hard enough or living carelessly because, for instance, I still chomp on glutenful bread. (I actually did a strict elimination diet that made no difference to any of my symptoms). So if I'm going to suffer, I feel I can now at least suffer whilst eating delicious bread I've just baked topped with a chunk of artisanal cheese. Yum.
"In the weeks and months that followed my diagnosis I received dozens of suggestions about how I might combat my decline...In some cases, these suggestions have been delivered with little confidence. Perhaps they’re offered if a person feels awkward and wants to think of something positive to say – so that it might be something they’d heard about from someone or caught as a snippet on the radio....Others have been far more confident in their approaches – strikingly so...As for the suggestions themselves, they were both to do with diet. I have noticed that people can be at their most fervent when making claims that this or that diet can combat my decline."
"The list of cures I receive continues to grow. It seems important for some people to feel that they can do something about what’s happening to me. Sometimes this is offered in a caring or despairing way and sometimes it’s evangelical. But in all cases it feels like a frustration with the idea that things happen: the idea that we all might grow old or that any of us might contract an illness or a disease and not be able to do anything about it, or the idea that none of us really possess control over our lives. For many people this is clearly unbearable and intolerable, so that just being is frightening – and that the only possible sane response is to be doing something."
The author has also experienced a bugbear of mine, one that I've felt well before my illness. Overconfidence. We only need to look at the mask debacle of the covid19 pandemic to see the impact of misplaced certainty.
"I wonder why it is important to know. It always seems so very important, particularly for doctors. But surely they seldom know. Or they seldom really know. Doctor Tiago ‘knew’ I had a brain tumour within five minutes of meeting me. But this wasn’t knowing; this was confidence. We’d have had a better conversation without confidence getting in the way. There’s so much to simply not know about the body...Because however much a person knows about something, that knowing is minuscule compared to what they don’t know. A scale demonstration of this would involve standing next to a mountain and pouring a kilo bag of sugar on the ground. Standing back and comparing these two mounds would give the onlooker a visual comparison between the little that is known about anything by anyone (the sugar) and the vastness of what is unknown about everything by everyone (the mountain). None of us know. Even the most knowledgeable amongst us don’t know. Doctor Tiago didn’t know. I’d like to have spent more time with Doctor Tiago not knowing."
Over the years, I've been muffled, suffocated or simply irritated by people's overconfidence (Dunning-Kruger applies) more in the corporate/public sector/social media spaces of my life than I have with doctors; their lack of humility/curiosity crushes me every time.
I also appreciated the author's description of his mother because people are often uncomfortable when one doesn't speak as fondly as society expects of one's mum.
"One of the startling experiences has been noticing how hard it is for my mum to care for me, or her inability to loosen and show some tenderness; how unnatural this now feels for her; how she reaches in to care for me or Gill – her grandchildren too – but always misses with her grasp and finds herself instead. I dread her presence, for the horror that ripples across her face whenever she sees me. She sees the care and love that’s shown to us by others, but a little voice inside sees jars of different-coloured sweets on high-up shelves; something little and sugary that she’s needed all her life but never received."
It's a very short book, as one might expect given when it was written, but some of the above will likely linger in my mind for some time.
"With the toaster, I keeled over because my left leg achieved the elevation my right one couldn’t. It was a buckled-cartwheel move, and when my head made impact it was the deep vibrating sound from the pipes that shocked us all. I lay back with my head wedged uncomfortably forwards against the steel pillow. After a few moments, Jimmy started crying; then Tom. I looked over at them. Their tears. Their crumpled faces. And a nasally sound like two interlinked air-raid sirens being squeezed out through their ears. There’s so much more indignity in failed silliness."
Some days with my chronic fatigue (or the unknown illness that cripples my brain and body), I feel a mixture of sadness, fear and also gratefulness. Gratefulness that at least I'm mobile and I can still enjoy the pleasures of good food and (on most days) still can lose myself in a book.
"Because the truth is that I was actually declining through this period. I just enjoyed the thought that I wasn’t. I think the fall ended one kind of hope, but it didn’t end all kinds of hope. The creative life gets harder and darker and more real. But life is not worse than it was before. It doesn’t have less value. It’s not less interesting. Not at all. As I get weaker, less a part of this world, or less a part of what I love, less a part of my family’s life, I can perceive its edges with fantastic clarity. I can lie against it, lolling my arm over the edge, running my fingers around the rim. And this is where I am."
"And waiting for it all to stop, for the body to return, to heal, because that is what the body does."
I think of myself as a pessimist or, at the very least, a realist. But at times I admit that I'm probably a closet optimist because I somehow keep trying out the next new-fangled suggestion that will supposedly cure me or at least alleviate my symptoms. Because, after all, as the author says, aren't bodies supposed to heal?
I also very much relate to the next few passages. I'm very thankful for the care from friends but I do grow weary when acquaintances (and even random strangers) pitch their solutions. And it's especially frustrating when the advice-givers believe that I'm not doing it right or not trying hard enough or living carelessly because, for instance, I still chomp on glutenful bread. (I actually did a strict elimination diet that made no difference to any of my symptoms). So if I'm going to suffer, I feel I can now at least suffer whilst eating delicious bread I've just baked topped with a chunk of artisanal cheese. Yum.
"In the weeks and months that followed my diagnosis I received dozens of suggestions about how I might combat my decline...In some cases, these suggestions have been delivered with little confidence. Perhaps they’re offered if a person feels awkward and wants to think of something positive to say – so that it might be something they’d heard about from someone or caught as a snippet on the radio....Others have been far more confident in their approaches – strikingly so...As for the suggestions themselves, they were both to do with diet. I have noticed that people can be at their most fervent when making claims that this or that diet can combat my decline."
"The list of cures I receive continues to grow. It seems important for some people to feel that they can do something about what’s happening to me. Sometimes this is offered in a caring or despairing way and sometimes it’s evangelical. But in all cases it feels like a frustration with the idea that things happen: the idea that we all might grow old or that any of us might contract an illness or a disease and not be able to do anything about it, or the idea that none of us really possess control over our lives. For many people this is clearly unbearable and intolerable, so that just being is frightening – and that the only possible sane response is to be doing something."
The author has also experienced a bugbear of mine, one that I've felt well before my illness. Overconfidence. We only need to look at the mask debacle of the covid19 pandemic to see the impact of misplaced certainty.
"I wonder why it is important to know. It always seems so very important, particularly for doctors. But surely they seldom know. Or they seldom really know. Doctor Tiago ‘knew’ I had a brain tumour within five minutes of meeting me. But this wasn’t knowing; this was confidence. We’d have had a better conversation without confidence getting in the way. There’s so much to simply not know about the body...Because however much a person knows about something, that knowing is minuscule compared to what they don’t know. A scale demonstration of this would involve standing next to a mountain and pouring a kilo bag of sugar on the ground. Standing back and comparing these two mounds would give the onlooker a visual comparison between the little that is known about anything by anyone (the sugar) and the vastness of what is unknown about everything by everyone (the mountain). None of us know. Even the most knowledgeable amongst us don’t know. Doctor Tiago didn’t know. I’d like to have spent more time with Doctor Tiago not knowing."
Over the years, I've been muffled, suffocated or simply irritated by people's overconfidence (Dunning-Kruger applies) more in the corporate/public sector/social media spaces of my life than I have with doctors; their lack of humility/curiosity crushes me every time.
I also appreciated the author's description of his mother because people are often uncomfortable when one doesn't speak as fondly as society expects of one's mum.
"One of the startling experiences has been noticing how hard it is for my mum to care for me, or her inability to loosen and show some tenderness; how unnatural this now feels for her; how she reaches in to care for me or Gill – her grandchildren too – but always misses with her grasp and finds herself instead. I dread her presence, for the horror that ripples across her face whenever she sees me. She sees the care and love that’s shown to us by others, but a little voice inside sees jars of different-coloured sweets on high-up shelves; something little and sugary that she’s needed all her life but never received."
It's a very short book, as one might expect given when it was written, but some of the above will likely linger in my mind for some time.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 23, 2020
I am also not the right reader for this book. Joe Hammond writes perfectly elegant prose about the joy of everyday things and the situation he is in, but also seems to be trying to redeem a damaged and unhappy life through the manner of his decline. Was not into it.
August 4, 2019
RELEASE DATE - 5TH SEPTEMBER 2019
All I can say is, I have a broken heart.
All I can say is, I have a broken heart.
February 8, 2023
Some beautiful writing amidst the horror story that is motor neurone disease, with some incisive observations about the people around him.
April 30, 2020
Eine sanfte Form der Verzweiflung. Fünf Tränentage schenken Erkenntnis. Und all die Situationen, die ihn in der Vergangenheit mitgenommen hatten, fielen in eine Rubrik. Und diese neue Situation der Verzweiflung fiel in eine ganz andere. Es war ein durch und durch körperliches Gefühl. Joe Hammond ist immer davon ausgegangen, seine Söhne aufwachsen zu sehen, mit seiner Frau Gill alt zu werden. Ein Lebenstraum. Zum ersten Mal passiert es, als er seinen kleinen Sohn zur Schule bringt und merkt: Sein Körper macht auf einmal Dinge, die er nicht mehr steuern kann. Joe Hammond fällt einfach hin. Nach einem halben Jahr Ungewissheit und einer Odyssee der Arztbesuche bekommt Joe Hammond die Diagnose: Er leidet an der Motoneuron-Krankheit – eine zum Tode führende Erkrankung des motorischen Nervensystems. Und er weiß: Er hat nicht mehr viel Zeit, er wird die Kontrolle über seinen Körper, er wird sein Leben verlieren. Und die Menschen, die er am meisten liebt, verlieren ihn.
Dieses Buch ist "Eine kurze Geschichte vom Fallen" von der Traurigkeit und der Wut und der Angst, aber auch von den schönen Momenten, von Liebe und Vatersein. Und davon, wie Joe Hammond die letzten Momente mit seinem Körper erlebt, in der Gegenwart von Menschen, die ihm das Wichtigste sind. Davon, wie es sich anfühlt, wenn man weiß, dass man für seine Familie bald als Erinnerung weiterlebe. Auf vielerlei Weise ist das die erstaunlichste Zeit Joe Hammonds Lebens gewesen. Es ist ein Buch über das Abschiednehmen. Abschied von seinem Körper, der ihn von einer plötzlichen Unbeholfenheit bis in einen raumschiffähnlichen Rollstuhl führen wird. Abschied von dieser Welt, in der er immer weniger eine Rolle spielt und stattdessen auf ein ihm unbekanntes Terrain zutreibt. Abschied von Gill, seiner Frau. Und Abschied von Tom und Jimmy, seinen beiden Söhnen. Dieses Buch will Hoffnung darauf machen, dass es sich lohnt, dieses Leben zu leben. Der britische Autor und Familienvater starb im November 2019 an der Motoneuron-Krankheit. Sensibel und humorvoll zugleich erzählt er von der Wucht der Diagnose und seiner Transformation als Mensch und Vater. Ohne Rührseligkeit macht er sein Publikum zum Zeugen einer sehr persönlichen und gleichsam universellen Tragödie. Eine erschütternde Lebensgeschichte, die nichts ausspart. Ein großartiges Buch und ein Mann der mich sehr beeindruckt und an dessen Mut, Lebenslust und Humor ich mir ein Beispiel nehme. Berührend und unschlagbar witzig. Unbedingt lesen ....
Dieses Buch ist "Eine kurze Geschichte vom Fallen" von der Traurigkeit und der Wut und der Angst, aber auch von den schönen Momenten, von Liebe und Vatersein. Und davon, wie Joe Hammond die letzten Momente mit seinem Körper erlebt, in der Gegenwart von Menschen, die ihm das Wichtigste sind. Davon, wie es sich anfühlt, wenn man weiß, dass man für seine Familie bald als Erinnerung weiterlebe. Auf vielerlei Weise ist das die erstaunlichste Zeit Joe Hammonds Lebens gewesen. Es ist ein Buch über das Abschiednehmen. Abschied von seinem Körper, der ihn von einer plötzlichen Unbeholfenheit bis in einen raumschiffähnlichen Rollstuhl führen wird. Abschied von dieser Welt, in der er immer weniger eine Rolle spielt und stattdessen auf ein ihm unbekanntes Terrain zutreibt. Abschied von Gill, seiner Frau. Und Abschied von Tom und Jimmy, seinen beiden Söhnen. Dieses Buch will Hoffnung darauf machen, dass es sich lohnt, dieses Leben zu leben. Der britische Autor und Familienvater starb im November 2019 an der Motoneuron-Krankheit. Sensibel und humorvoll zugleich erzählt er von der Wucht der Diagnose und seiner Transformation als Mensch und Vater. Ohne Rührseligkeit macht er sein Publikum zum Zeugen einer sehr persönlichen und gleichsam universellen Tragödie. Eine erschütternde Lebensgeschichte, die nichts ausspart. Ein großartiges Buch und ein Mann der mich sehr beeindruckt und an dessen Mut, Lebenslust und Humor ich mir ein Beispiel nehme. Berührend und unschlagbar witzig. Unbedingt lesen ....
February 10, 2020
Joe Hammond berichtet in diesem außergewöhnlich offenen und persönlichen Buch von seiner Erkrankung der Motoneuron-Krankheit. Diese Erkrankung des motorischen Nervensystems führt dazu, dass er zunächst immer wieder mal hinfällt, steigert sich aber schnell und führt unweigerlich zum Tod.
Vorweg: Ich hatte andere Erwartungen an das Buch und die Rezension fällt mir schwer, da ich einerseits den Mut bewundere so offen über diese tödliche Krankheit zu schreiben, andererseits war mir der Stil oft viel zu reich an Metaphern und ich musste mich zum Weiterlesen stellenweise wirklich zwingen. Mein Problem waren in erster Linie die ganzen Rückblicke in die Kindheit und Jugend, die alles andere als rosig war und im Gegensatz zur Erkrankung das Buch dominierte. Im Nachhinein erklärt sich, warum auf die Vergangenheit so eingegangen wird, aber während des Lesens war es einfach nicht so richtig überzeugend. Zudem fand ich die Sprünge von einem Thema zum anderen manchmal einfach nicht nachvollziehbar.
Los ging es schon traurig, aber irgendwie auch humorvoll mit den ersten Symptomen der Krankheit. Dieser Galgenhumor hatte mich wirklich überzeugt und ich hatte mehr davon erwartet, leider kam diese Art immer wieder nur zwischendurch kurz zum Vorschein. Dass es sehr schwermütig werden würde und man Mitleid empfinden würde, war zu erwarten, aber die biografischen Rückblicke und ausschweifende Einblicke in die Gefühlswelt haben mich einfach wenig gefesselt – dabei sind diese Hauptthema des Buches. Ich kann verstehen, dass es dem Autor auch emotional schlecht ging (es wäre wohl alles andere als „normal“, wäre das nicht der Fall), aber mir war streckenweise zu depressiv. Das mag auch meine „Schuld“ sein, da ich mit der ausweglosen Situation in der die Familie völlig unverschuldet geraten ist, schon beim Lesen meine Schwierigkeiten hatte. Der Mut zur Autobiografie ist bewundernswert und ich hoffe einfach, dass die beiden Jungs mit dem Buch ihres mittlerweile verstorbenen Vaters mehr anfangen können als ich.
Zurückbleibt nach dieser Autobiografie eine tiefe Dankbarkeit gesund zu sein.
Vorweg: Ich hatte andere Erwartungen an das Buch und die Rezension fällt mir schwer, da ich einerseits den Mut bewundere so offen über diese tödliche Krankheit zu schreiben, andererseits war mir der Stil oft viel zu reich an Metaphern und ich musste mich zum Weiterlesen stellenweise wirklich zwingen. Mein Problem waren in erster Linie die ganzen Rückblicke in die Kindheit und Jugend, die alles andere als rosig war und im Gegensatz zur Erkrankung das Buch dominierte. Im Nachhinein erklärt sich, warum auf die Vergangenheit so eingegangen wird, aber während des Lesens war es einfach nicht so richtig überzeugend. Zudem fand ich die Sprünge von einem Thema zum anderen manchmal einfach nicht nachvollziehbar.
Los ging es schon traurig, aber irgendwie auch humorvoll mit den ersten Symptomen der Krankheit. Dieser Galgenhumor hatte mich wirklich überzeugt und ich hatte mehr davon erwartet, leider kam diese Art immer wieder nur zwischendurch kurz zum Vorschein. Dass es sehr schwermütig werden würde und man Mitleid empfinden würde, war zu erwarten, aber die biografischen Rückblicke und ausschweifende Einblicke in die Gefühlswelt haben mich einfach wenig gefesselt – dabei sind diese Hauptthema des Buches. Ich kann verstehen, dass es dem Autor auch emotional schlecht ging (es wäre wohl alles andere als „normal“, wäre das nicht der Fall), aber mir war streckenweise zu depressiv. Das mag auch meine „Schuld“ sein, da ich mit der ausweglosen Situation in der die Familie völlig unverschuldet geraten ist, schon beim Lesen meine Schwierigkeiten hatte. Der Mut zur Autobiografie ist bewundernswert und ich hoffe einfach, dass die beiden Jungs mit dem Buch ihres mittlerweile verstorbenen Vaters mehr anfangen können als ich.
Zurückbleibt nach dieser Autobiografie eine tiefe Dankbarkeit gesund zu sein.
February 29, 2020
Nicht einfach, aber absolut lesenswert
Joe Hammond ist junger Familienvater und lebt mit seiner Familie in Portugal als er die Diagnose Motoneuronenkrankheit erhält. Eine Krankheit, die zunächst mit Bewegungsstörungen beginnt und dann zu einem schnellen körperlichen Abbau und zu einem baldigen Tod führt. Wie er diese Zeit erlebt und wie er neue Seiten des Lebens kennen und wertschätzen lernt, davon erzählt dieses autobiographische Buch.
Ich fand das Buch sehr berührend, interessant und vor allem durch den Humor des Autors auch sehr unterhaltsam. Dass ein Leben, das sich von einem Moment auf den anderen so radikal ändert und mit ständig fortschreitenden körperlichen Einschränkungen verbunden ist, auch schöne Seiten haben kann, ist eine wichtige Botschaft von Joes Geschichte. Diese Haltung, die in allen Abschnitten deutlich wird, hat mich sehr beeindruckt. Immer weniger kann er selbst machen, aber umso mehr schätzt er kleine Dinge und schöne Augenblicke. Einige Situationen sind auch mit unterhaltsamer Selbstironie beschrieben und regen an, über Gesundheit und Krankheit und das häufig damit verbundene schwarz-weiß Denken nachzudenken. Einige Zwischenpassagen über Erlebnisse vor seiner Krankheit, fand ich nicht so interessant und habe sie teilweise eher überflogen. Allerdings schrieb Hammond das Buch ja auch in erster Linie für seine Söhne und erst in zweiter Linie für ein breites Publikum. Ich finde es dennoch sehr wertvoll, dass er diese zum Teil sehr intimen Schilderungen auch anderen Interessierten zugänglich macht.
Ich finde das Buch empfehlenswert für jeden, der sich mit Leben und Tod auseinandersetzen möchte. Man sollte aber bereit und offen dafür sein, Dinge aus einer anderen Perspektive zu betrachten und den teilweise sehr bildlich beschriebenen Gedanken des Autors zu folgen, auch wenn sie sich teilweise etwas unsortiert aneinanderreihen und nicht immer einem eindeutigen roten Faden folgen. Dennoch ist das Buch sehr gut geschrieben und regt auf jeden Fall zum Nachdenken an.
Joe Hammond ist junger Familienvater und lebt mit seiner Familie in Portugal als er die Diagnose Motoneuronenkrankheit erhält. Eine Krankheit, die zunächst mit Bewegungsstörungen beginnt und dann zu einem schnellen körperlichen Abbau und zu einem baldigen Tod führt. Wie er diese Zeit erlebt und wie er neue Seiten des Lebens kennen und wertschätzen lernt, davon erzählt dieses autobiographische Buch.
Ich fand das Buch sehr berührend, interessant und vor allem durch den Humor des Autors auch sehr unterhaltsam. Dass ein Leben, das sich von einem Moment auf den anderen so radikal ändert und mit ständig fortschreitenden körperlichen Einschränkungen verbunden ist, auch schöne Seiten haben kann, ist eine wichtige Botschaft von Joes Geschichte. Diese Haltung, die in allen Abschnitten deutlich wird, hat mich sehr beeindruckt. Immer weniger kann er selbst machen, aber umso mehr schätzt er kleine Dinge und schöne Augenblicke. Einige Situationen sind auch mit unterhaltsamer Selbstironie beschrieben und regen an, über Gesundheit und Krankheit und das häufig damit verbundene schwarz-weiß Denken nachzudenken. Einige Zwischenpassagen über Erlebnisse vor seiner Krankheit, fand ich nicht so interessant und habe sie teilweise eher überflogen. Allerdings schrieb Hammond das Buch ja auch in erster Linie für seine Söhne und erst in zweiter Linie für ein breites Publikum. Ich finde es dennoch sehr wertvoll, dass er diese zum Teil sehr intimen Schilderungen auch anderen Interessierten zugänglich macht.
Ich finde das Buch empfehlenswert für jeden, der sich mit Leben und Tod auseinandersetzen möchte. Man sollte aber bereit und offen dafür sein, Dinge aus einer anderen Perspektive zu betrachten und den teilweise sehr bildlich beschriebenen Gedanken des Autors zu folgen, auch wenn sie sich teilweise etwas unsortiert aneinanderreihen und nicht immer einem eindeutigen roten Faden folgen. Dennoch ist das Buch sehr gut geschrieben und regt auf jeden Fall zum Nachdenken an.
April 14, 2021
Joe Hammond is diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease. With a young family by his side, he walks us through his thoughts and observations on the process of dying. Most of us will not get to examine this process in quite so much detail when our turn comes.
A Short History of Falling is part of a recent revival in books examining our mortality. Books like With the End in Mind, When Breath Becomes Air, and Seven Signs of Life have all been best sellers of the past few years. Some examine death from a personal perspective, some from a medical point of view, and some from both. Joe's is a purely individual perspective. His writing style is less of a constant narrative than a series of short stories or even just notes.
Initially, the book is a little self-indulgent, but I think that can be given a pass. If you can't focus on yourself when you are dying, then when can you? However, as his story moves on through time, he becomes less focused on himself and more focused on those around him. As he describes it, Motor Neurone Disease forces him to become a "watcher". He is not able to fully participate in life anymore, but he can watch and observe. He notices the tiny ticks and traits that we all carry and manages to weave this in with nuance into a view on life.
A Short History of Falling doesn't feel quite as complete as some memoirs. Still, I have a feeling that Joe knew he was getting short on time and was more focused on getting everything written down.
It is not precisely a life-changer as other books have been, for me at least. Still, it is comforting to see more and more people becoming comfortable with analysing and discussing death on a personal level in the 21st century. It is something that has been missing, from British society, at any rate, for seemingly too long. As death became sanitised and a subject we didn't see or discuss.
A Short History of Falling is part of a recent revival in books examining our mortality. Books like With the End in Mind, When Breath Becomes Air, and Seven Signs of Life have all been best sellers of the past few years. Some examine death from a personal perspective, some from a medical point of view, and some from both. Joe's is a purely individual perspective. His writing style is less of a constant narrative than a series of short stories or even just notes.
Initially, the book is a little self-indulgent, but I think that can be given a pass. If you can't focus on yourself when you are dying, then when can you? However, as his story moves on through time, he becomes less focused on himself and more focused on those around him. As he describes it, Motor Neurone Disease forces him to become a "watcher". He is not able to fully participate in life anymore, but he can watch and observe. He notices the tiny ticks and traits that we all carry and manages to weave this in with nuance into a view on life.
A Short History of Falling doesn't feel quite as complete as some memoirs. Still, I have a feeling that Joe knew he was getting short on time and was more focused on getting everything written down.
It is not precisely a life-changer as other books have been, for me at least. Still, it is comforting to see more and more people becoming comfortable with analysing and discussing death on a personal level in the 21st century. It is something that has been missing, from British society, at any rate, for seemingly too long. As death became sanitised and a subject we didn't see or discuss.
March 9, 2021
A moving and insightful biography
"If I could just stop falling over, this would be a funnier book. I'm a big man and I'm starting to cause a lot of damage."
Joe Hammond was 48 when I was diagnosed with motor neuron disease, more specifically ALS. At the time, he was living in Portugal with his wife Gill and their two young sons. They soon picked up their lives and went back to England, where Joe tried to make sense of dying by writing a book about it.
"But actually, there wasn't much of an interval between this smile and Doctor Tiago telling me that I had motor neurone disease. Or not that exactly. Not that I had this disease. Just that it would be impossible for it to be anything else. I like that. It's perfect manners when handling bad news. It's not that it's the thing. It's just not all the other things."
I am torn writing this review. I found this book interesting and well written. It is, in a sense, Hammond's biography, or his last letter to his family. I love some of the words and expressions, the candid way Hammond describes how his body slowly changed. I found it interesting how he dealt with becoming dependent on help, something which people would likely struggle with the most when going through something like this. He goes into quite a bit of detail on his childhood and relationship with his parents, which I guess made me understand the author better, but the stories are extensive at times and it often feels like the author is rambling. I appreciate and admire the humor which never leaves Hammond's writing. Overall, this is a moving, insightful and intimate look on coping with a disease that will eventually take your life. I wish all the best to Gill and her kids as they cope with the death of their loved one.
"If I could just stop falling over, this would be a funnier book. I'm a big man and I'm starting to cause a lot of damage."
Joe Hammond was 48 when I was diagnosed with motor neuron disease, more specifically ALS. At the time, he was living in Portugal with his wife Gill and their two young sons. They soon picked up their lives and went back to England, where Joe tried to make sense of dying by writing a book about it.
"But actually, there wasn't much of an interval between this smile and Doctor Tiago telling me that I had motor neurone disease. Or not that exactly. Not that I had this disease. Just that it would be impossible for it to be anything else. I like that. It's perfect manners when handling bad news. It's not that it's the thing. It's just not all the other things."
I am torn writing this review. I found this book interesting and well written. It is, in a sense, Hammond's biography, or his last letter to his family. I love some of the words and expressions, the candid way Hammond describes how his body slowly changed. I found it interesting how he dealt with becoming dependent on help, something which people would likely struggle with the most when going through something like this. He goes into quite a bit of detail on his childhood and relationship with his parents, which I guess made me understand the author better, but the stories are extensive at times and it often feels like the author is rambling. I appreciate and admire the humor which never leaves Hammond's writing. Overall, this is a moving, insightful and intimate look on coping with a disease that will eventually take your life. I wish all the best to Gill and her kids as they cope with the death of their loved one.
April 15, 2020
Manche Bücher fesseln einen ab Seite 1 und lassen einen dann nicht wieder los...sogar nachdem man es beendet hat. Für mich ist "Eine kurz Geschichte des Fallens..." so ein Buch.
Joe Hammond, der inzwischen verstorben ist, schrieb das Buch als eine Art Hilfsmittel, um Abschied zu nehmen, nachdem bei ihm die Motoneuron-Krankheit diagnostiziert wurde. Als LeserIn ist man also dabei, wie Joe immer öfter stürzt, langsam die Kontrolle über seinen Körper und damit auch seine Freiheit verliert, bis er zuletzt vollkommen bewegungsunfähig ist.
Was mich dabei zutiefst beeindruckt hat (neben der Tatsache, dass der Autor auch in schwersten Zeiten nie seinen schwarzen Humor verliert; ganz ehrlich, wenn es keine wahre Geschichte wäre, würde man an eine sehr tragische Slapstick Komödie denken), ist, dass sich Joe ganz bewusst mit der Endlichkeit seines Lebens beschäftigt und dadurch, trotz des nahenden Todeszeitpunkts und des körperlichen Verfalls, eine ungeheuer stark ausgeprägte Lebensfreude zu empfinden scheint... und diese Freude am/Liebe zum Leben ist ansteckend.
Selbstmitleid scheint dem Autor völlig fremd, und ich habe mich während des Lesens ständig gefragt, wie man in seiner Situation so stark bleiben kann?! Joe Hammond schafft es, durch gnadenlose Ehrlichkeit und mit seinem ganz eigenen Humor, Empathie zu schaffen: ich habe mitgelitten wenn er fiel und mitgeweint als er über und für seine 2 Söhne und seine Frau schrieb... und mir gewünscht, dass seine "kurze Geschichte" noch länger andauern würde.
Joe Hammond, der inzwischen verstorben ist, schrieb das Buch als eine Art Hilfsmittel, um Abschied zu nehmen, nachdem bei ihm die Motoneuron-Krankheit diagnostiziert wurde. Als LeserIn ist man also dabei, wie Joe immer öfter stürzt, langsam die Kontrolle über seinen Körper und damit auch seine Freiheit verliert, bis er zuletzt vollkommen bewegungsunfähig ist.
Was mich dabei zutiefst beeindruckt hat (neben der Tatsache, dass der Autor auch in schwersten Zeiten nie seinen schwarzen Humor verliert; ganz ehrlich, wenn es keine wahre Geschichte wäre, würde man an eine sehr tragische Slapstick Komödie denken), ist, dass sich Joe ganz bewusst mit der Endlichkeit seines Lebens beschäftigt und dadurch, trotz des nahenden Todeszeitpunkts und des körperlichen Verfalls, eine ungeheuer stark ausgeprägte Lebensfreude zu empfinden scheint... und diese Freude am/Liebe zum Leben ist ansteckend.
Selbstmitleid scheint dem Autor völlig fremd, und ich habe mich während des Lesens ständig gefragt, wie man in seiner Situation so stark bleiben kann?! Joe Hammond schafft es, durch gnadenlose Ehrlichkeit und mit seinem ganz eigenen Humor, Empathie zu schaffen: ich habe mitgelitten wenn er fiel und mitgeweint als er über und für seine 2 Söhne und seine Frau schrieb... und mir gewünscht, dass seine "kurze Geschichte" noch länger andauern würde.
Read
May 12, 2020I read this book because my mum has motor neurone disease - a different type to the author of this book, she has bulbar-onset and can no longer speak. She can communicate with us in other ways (writing or typing) but it is quite laborious, and very difficult to have long / deep conversations as the day-to-day stuff now takes up so much of her energy. I read this hoping to gain insights into what it is like to live with, and slowly die from, motor neurone disease.
It is a beautifully written book. It includes more about his life story before getting ill than I had expected, which was an interesting and engaging read although not containing the information I really wanted. I was struck by the author's musing that in the catalogue of losses that happen as your motor neurones die and the body gradually fails, not all losses are equal. There are some that challenge the very core of your identity. One comment that stood out for me (I think this may have been on the back of the copy I read) was about him becoming less in and of this world, less a part of his family. I can see that gradually happening to my mum. Things that she would once have been at the very centre of, with a strong opinion about, she now seems to pay little attention to.
This is a heartbreaking story, but I didn't find it as distressing to read as I had thought it might be. Very glad I read it, even though it didn't give me as much insight as I still crave (I don't know what could though!)
It is a beautifully written book. It includes more about his life story before getting ill than I had expected, which was an interesting and engaging read although not containing the information I really wanted. I was struck by the author's musing that in the catalogue of losses that happen as your motor neurones die and the body gradually fails, not all losses are equal. There are some that challenge the very core of your identity. One comment that stood out for me (I think this may have been on the back of the copy I read) was about him becoming less in and of this world, less a part of his family. I can see that gradually happening to my mum. Things that she would once have been at the very centre of, with a strong opinion about, she now seems to pay little attention to.
This is a heartbreaking story, but I didn't find it as distressing to read as I had thought it might be. Very glad I read it, even though it didn't give me as much insight as I still crave (I don't know what could though!)
October 12, 2025
this was beautiful and heart wrenching to read. I don’t really know how to put it into words, but as someone who has cared for a family member with MND, i have my own feelings and emotions associated with the disease, but lately i have been craving to know what other people’s experiences have been (as a person with the diagnosis, or as the carer). I wish I asked him more things while he was alive.
The author described this book as a way to say goodbye to his family, the deep love and appreciation for his wife and children weaves its way through the entire book. As the disease takes more and more from him, and he becomes less capable of engaging with his children in the ways they might need/want, you get the sense that he is coming to grips with the fact that his family of four is becoming a family of three. Not only that, but one day, another man will come into his families life, and that man will be the one to raise his children, and see them grow into men. As horrible as it is to think about for your family, all he wants is for them to be supported and protected when he is no longer there
Above all, my heart breaks for the authors young children, who are truly too young to understand what has happened to their father, but I really loved that he included chapters about his childhood and early adulthood, giving his children something to hold onto once he had passed, and a chance to answer any questions that they might have once they have grown up.
The author described this book as a way to say goodbye to his family, the deep love and appreciation for his wife and children weaves its way through the entire book. As the disease takes more and more from him, and he becomes less capable of engaging with his children in the ways they might need/want, you get the sense that he is coming to grips with the fact that his family of four is becoming a family of three. Not only that, but one day, another man will come into his families life, and that man will be the one to raise his children, and see them grow into men. As horrible as it is to think about for your family, all he wants is for them to be supported and protected when he is no longer there
Above all, my heart breaks for the authors young children, who are truly too young to understand what has happened to their father, but I really loved that he included chapters about his childhood and early adulthood, giving his children something to hold onto once he had passed, and a chance to answer any questions that they might have once they have grown up.
February 2, 2020
Betroffenheit
Meine Erwartung an das Buch war auf Grund der Inhaltsangabe sehr hoch - eine Geschichte von Joe Hammond und seinem Fall(en). Er leidet an der Motoneuron-Krankheit – einer Erkrankung des motorischen Nervensystems, die bis zum Tod führt. Man erfährt viel über den Anfängen bis hin zur eigentlichen Diagnose der Krankheit - das ganze ist teilweise etwas mit Humor geschrieben - traurigem Humor. Auch die ersten Seiten machen beim Lesen sehr betroffen und die Aufmerksamkeit des Lesers hängt an den Wörtern.
Später im Buch war es nicht mehr so einfach, der Erzählung zu folgen, denn meiner Meinung nach ging der rote Faden verloren. Es wurde oft aus der Vergangenheit erzählt, dann wieder von der eigentlichen Erkrankung. Und dann leider sehr oft in Metaphern, die es für mich sehr schwierig gemacht haben, die eigentlich Botschaft bzw. dass, was der Autor sagen will, zu erkennen.
Besonders im letzten Teil sind die offenen Worte, die gefunden wurden, sehr bewundernswert.
Kein Buch für Zwischendurch, denn auf der einen Seite ist es ein bedrückendes Thema, was einem mitnimmt und auf der anderen Seite ist der Schreibstil im Verlauf des Buches nicht sehr einfach zu verstehen. Alles in allem aber ein Buch, was ich weiterempfehlen kann.
Das einfach gestaltete Buchcover passt sehr gut dazu.
Meine Erwartung an das Buch war auf Grund der Inhaltsangabe sehr hoch - eine Geschichte von Joe Hammond und seinem Fall(en). Er leidet an der Motoneuron-Krankheit – einer Erkrankung des motorischen Nervensystems, die bis zum Tod führt. Man erfährt viel über den Anfängen bis hin zur eigentlichen Diagnose der Krankheit - das ganze ist teilweise etwas mit Humor geschrieben - traurigem Humor. Auch die ersten Seiten machen beim Lesen sehr betroffen und die Aufmerksamkeit des Lesers hängt an den Wörtern.
Später im Buch war es nicht mehr so einfach, der Erzählung zu folgen, denn meiner Meinung nach ging der rote Faden verloren. Es wurde oft aus der Vergangenheit erzählt, dann wieder von der eigentlichen Erkrankung. Und dann leider sehr oft in Metaphern, die es für mich sehr schwierig gemacht haben, die eigentlich Botschaft bzw. dass, was der Autor sagen will, zu erkennen.
Besonders im letzten Teil sind die offenen Worte, die gefunden wurden, sehr bewundernswert.
Kein Buch für Zwischendurch, denn auf der einen Seite ist es ein bedrückendes Thema, was einem mitnimmt und auf der anderen Seite ist der Schreibstil im Verlauf des Buches nicht sehr einfach zu verstehen. Alles in allem aber ein Buch, was ich weiterempfehlen kann.
Das einfach gestaltete Buchcover passt sehr gut dazu.
May 30, 2020
Shortly before I started reading Hammond's memoir, I finished Kalanithi's When Breath Becomes Air which I really liked. Though the latter is much slimmer in size, it held much more impact for me and felt more fleshed out.
While the parts about Hammond's disease and the way he dealt with it were very moving, I struggled with the stories about his childhood and his parents. He stated that this book was intended for his sons, and it felt like it. It was personal and intimate, but at the same time had a distance to it that made it hard for the reader to connect or see what way the book is taking. Although he shared in lengthy chapters anecdotes with good natured humor, some stories were just tediously long and made whatever his intention was fleeting. Considering the description of this book is one about lessons of love, one really had to look deep for his messages as there was a lot of rambling without actually saying anything. That said, I hope his boys and wife are well and may they find comfort in this book. He surely loved them.
While the parts about Hammond's disease and the way he dealt with it were very moving, I struggled with the stories about his childhood and his parents. He stated that this book was intended for his sons, and it felt like it. It was personal and intimate, but at the same time had a distance to it that made it hard for the reader to connect or see what way the book is taking. Although he shared in lengthy chapters anecdotes with good natured humor, some stories were just tediously long and made whatever his intention was fleeting. Considering the description of this book is one about lessons of love, one really had to look deep for his messages as there was a lot of rambling without actually saying anything. That said, I hope his boys and wife are well and may they find comfort in this book. He surely loved them.
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