Miriam Engelberg (1958–2006)

I'm still getting into the concept of graphic novels. However, I saw this one mentioned in a post about breast cancer. This year seems to be a bad year for women I know and cancer. I'm trying to make sense of it all. I wouldn't say this book helped me with that but I hope it gives me some insight into what my friends are experiencing. I don't think Miriam became a shallower person at all. I think she tried to make sense of her diagnosis in the only way she knew how. Sadly she died before she probably knew how helpful her book would be.… (more)

I've never had cancer and I've never known anyone well who has had cancer, but, just as a regular person, I found this book genuine, funny, sad, clever, dark, and (contrary to the title) a little deep. Engelberg tells the story of her sudden immersion into the world of the cancer victim and the cancer survivor with painful honesty. It is, despite the awfulness of the cancer, a funny story, too. It's the truthfulness I liked best about it, pulling away all the made-for-tv-movie sweetness that seems to often appear when people talk about having cancer.… (more)

This book came to me in an odd way. I was at a holiday party in which wrapped books were being distributed with only their first lines read as a hint to the contents of the package. The opening lines of Engelberg's book said three things: “There's something very personal about telling people you've had breast cancer”, “I'm a breast cancer survivor”, and “Don't look at her chest”. Because I'm a breast cancer survivor and I saw the horrified looks in the eyes of other party-goers, I requested the book.

This book is a graphic novel. The cartoons drawn by Engelberg may be a bit rough as far as its art form, but these drawings in no way detract from the author’s ability to express herself. Her black humor is particularly laugh-out-loud funny to people who have experienced the stressful upheaval that breast cancer treatment entails. This book would make the most sense and be most appreciated for another person after the trauma of diagnosis, surgery, radiation, and chemo have taken place. Only then are readers as breast cancer survivors able to nod along with the sad truths Engelberg conveys.

It seemed to me that the author explored just about every nook and cranny of a breast cancer patient’s feelings. I especially identified with Engelberg’s making fun of studies which refute studies which in turn refute other studies.

Ultimately, though, I found this book frightening. While reading it, I learned that the author died of brain metastasis on October 17, 2006. What breast cancer survivors want more than anything is simply to survive. Short of that, the ability to let go of the horror of this disease for a short while and the opportunity to laugh about it still make Engelberg’s book a gift for so many.… (more)