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As its title promises, this book presents a moving and elevating mixture of memoir and memory. In the midst of travels and times with family and friends, Madelon Sprengnether describes the impact of trauma on her life and memory. Throughout the book she uses her own experiences with the death of her father and the shock of 9/11 to explore her mind's reactions to overwhelming events and the difficulties that come with turning and facing such emotions. The most compelling aspect of this book, however, is the way in which Sprengnether's writing mirrors the varying forms of memory.
Sprengnether's descriptions of travels and celebrations are rich with detail, and one becomes immersed in the events she describes. These depictions convey an easy, light feeling to the narrative, making it natural to relax and feel a part of the scene. The mood, the manner of writing, and the perspective change, however, in the traumatic scenes. All detail becomes lost except that which is relevant to survival. Attention narrows, emotions intensify, and words become inadequate. Anguished cries of “please, please” attempt to voice the inexpressible. Then the trauma ends, and life—how it is seen and described—returns to normalcy. The black and white world of trauma recedes and experience becomes full of color and nuance once again. Trauma is not resolved solely by being spoken, but its processing tends to follow a pattern of intrusion and avoidance, and that is what happens in this book. The trauma narrative comes back, it intrudes, an “unwelcomed guest” (p. 131). Sprengnether revisits her father's death within her own experiences and in conversations with her brothers. And as that trauma weaves in