Reading grief: Getting beyond Joan Didion

Editor’s note: Grief literature has been a bit of a publishing fad ever since Didion wrote her bestselling ‘Year of Magical Thinking’. And grief lit lists end up with the usual suspects—all very worthy, but also very well-known. Anannya—with the help of the splainer team—has put together a different kind of collection that collates fiction, memoir and poetry. Let us know what you think at talktous@splainer.in. 

Written by: Anannya Parekh, assistant news editor 

Anil’s Ghost by Michael Ondaatje: While ‘The English Patient’ is better known, this is Ondaatje’s most powerful and moving novel. It follows Anil Tissera, a young Tamil forensic anthropologist who comes home—tasked with uncovering the remains of a brutal civil war. This is part murder mystery, part history—and above all a heartbreaking tale of loss–both of an individual and a community.

Groundglass by Kathryn Savage: This non-fiction book—set in Minnesota—and traces everyday life in one of the most toxic environments in the United States. Savage’s narrative of a polluted aquifer—set beside trains that haul fracked crude oil—is intertwined with her grief over her father—dying of cancer. Savage traces three overlapping themes of human bodies, communities and ecosystems—in this book that serves as a poem for grief but also as a manifesto for environmental justice. 

Time Is a Mother by Ocean Vuong: This deeply intimate poetry collection is about Vuong’s life after his mother’s death—and living with that grief. He mourns both her loss—and that of his culture and history rooted in the Vietnam war. All of it written in his signature style that daringly experiments with language and form. 

Dancing at the Pity Party by Tyler Feder: This lovely graphic novel is a cancer memoir. Feder tells the story of her mother’s death—right from before her mother's first oncology appointment through sitting shiva as a motherless daughter. Piercing and funny, it walks us through the stages of grief—as she learns to make new memories and traditions.

Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors: This tearjerker of a novel follows three estranged sisters who return to their family home in New York—after the death of their fourth sibling. As expected, each sister has a different personality and life story—tied together with shared childhood memories and the one person who kept them together as a family. Written in a pacy style, this is best devoured in one sitting on a rainy afternoon.  

Dear Memory by Victoria Chang: This is a collection of literary letters and mementos from the poet’s life including but not limited to: a marriage licence, a letter, a visa petition, a photograph. Many of the letters are to her dead mother, others are to her father, victim of a stroke unable to communicate. Chang uses this novel device—an archive of family relics—to excavate her immigrant family history—and confront her grief. 

Levels of Life by Julian Barnes: It is impossible to oversell the greatly beloved Barnes—best known for his novella ‘The Sense of an Ending’. This 128-page memoir too is about an ending—the death of his wife. This is a book as much about love as loss—and the darkest moments of heartbreak. Be prepared to be deeply moved.

A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness: This fantasy YA novel follows Conor—a teenager bracing himself for his mother’s death—when he encounters an ancient, elemental force. It demands only one thing: The truth. The beautiful illustrations and cathartic writing elevate this book—making it far more than just a good fantasy read. 

Someday Maybe by Onyi Nwabineli: This witty novel follows a young woman’s journey as she grieves the husband she has lost to suicide—a man she believed was truly happy. This is as much about her personal reckoning—as her close-knit Nigerian family and a marriage now irretrievably lost.

Lily and the Octopus by Steven Rowley: Ted Flask’s beloved dog Lily is old—and most certainly soon to die. Flask has to learn to let go of his best friend. No, this isn’t ‘Life with Marley’—or other standard ‘losing a pet’ memoir. Flask veers sharply from very real grief to magical realism—taking you, dear, reader, on an unforgettable ride.