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Yet, ultimately, “An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination” is sad, at times even tear-inducing, since McCracken offers an unstinting. I was sitting at a table, having signed three books, one for a cheerful old lady who ‘d called my short stories pointless during the Q & A. Al’s wife. Review: An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination by Elizabeth McCrackenA mother’s tender remembrance of her stillborn baby moves.

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McCracken brings no epiphany to the, admittedly, devestatingly sad subject matter – not even her own as far as I could tell.

There is a fairness, a natural order to this that human beings have spent centuries collectively making sense of. My grandmother asked my mother three times for my address to send some sort of hypothetical greeting card–“Sorry you got cancer? Published September 10th by Little Brown and Company. I actually laughed out loud several times.

The second thing is the guilt. Elizabeth and I share this conviction. That is why you simply cannot speak to certain other women after it happens, in particular, those who were never close enough to you to trust before the trauma occurred.

It is a thoughtful, carefully constructed narrative, a love letter to her husband, and the card she “Grief lasts longer than sympathy, which is one of the tragedies of the grieving.

An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination by Elizabeth McCracken – PopMatters

We devoured deli food, iced tea, and discussed the oddity of a romance between a librarian and child giant. It is also one of the happiest books I’ve ever read about losing a baby. I hope that someday I can write an account of my own experience in a way that would make it something others would want to read. The prose is candid, blessedly lacking sentimentality.

It isn’t entirely irredeemable, but The House that Jack Built’ s familiar gimmicks say much more about Lars von Trier as a brand than as a provocateur or artist. Different reading material, surely. Now they felt like oxygen, and only now do I fully understand why: Jan 05, Amy rated it really liked it Shelves: To be more pr Last semester, I took a group dynamics class. I read this book on a recommendation of a friend who is familiar with the fact that I have gone through a similar experience in my own life.


Fear of the latter takes over. I’m sorry I wasted my evening on the book and that my fiance’ wasted his money. I was prescribed acupuncture by my oncologist to help with nerve damage.

The most moving moment in the book is when McCracken finds out her baby has no heartbeat, and she thinks, “people are going to be mad at me. A thin, beautiful, sad – but defiant – book about the loss of a baby.

This may be a problem with the memoir genre. She writes of her child who has exacf, she describes him over and over and, in my edition, oddly changes the date of his birth forward a year to — I’m sure it’s a misprint but it’s jarring! It’s both a hard book to read and a hard book to put down, and much more gripping than McCracken’s fiction. Nevertheless, while I found the short story to be deeply personal, I concluded that, in essence, it was a self-indulgent eulogy and catharsis.

An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination

It just accepts the seamless mingling of grief, pain, love, and joy as they are. I’ll even end this review with her words: I understand that the author did imaginatio mean this to be a “self-help” book about coping with stillbirth, bu I’d like to say from the onset that this review is coloured by my own experience. Having said that, this book was overwhelmingly beautiful. The 80 Best Books of The authors’ whose works we share with you in PopMatters’ 80 Best Books of — from a couple of notable reissues to a number of excellent debuts — poignantly capture how the political is deeply personal, and the personal is undeniably, and beautifully, universal.

It is beautiful grief.

An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination by Elizabeth McCracken

You find one way of telling the story or an apt metaphor that conveys one aspect of your og — the way you felt on a particular day, say — but you know the story’s more complex than you can ever capture on the page. But, as to your writing product, there is no way this work would have ever been published but for your previously established reputation.


It has a sad subject matter it’s a memoirbut her treatment of it is so genius, that you are left uplifted and wiser as a result.

I a I am not a curmudgeon.

And then she insists that she would never have written a memoir about her own children, never write about being their mother. McCracken and her husband were living in a dilapidated former home for unwed mothers and their children in Savary, France, when she became pregnant.

It’s not such a nebulous concept anymore. Feb 25, Shelah rated it it was amazing. I’m not saying her choices were wrong. Laughter, tears, anger, peace, longing, etc. This is a book that had to be written, for the growing number of young women going through cancer–because no, it is NOTHING like your grandmother dying of cancer at and for mothers going through the loss of a young child.

A poignant matter of life and death

I also felt a strong connection to her words about people responding to her experience. McCracken and her husband, a fellow writer and professor, had sojourned in Berlin, Ireland and England before settling into a ramshackle farmhouse in the Bordeaux region of France to await the birth of their first child.

Which brings me to this: Reading about the loss of Pudding made me find sorrow again, but it also made me see the beauty in all of it. I’m glad I did, as once I was past that hurt, I could see McCracken had written a clear-eyed memoir, used When I first picked this book up inI put it down again within a few pages.