Georgia Blain (1964–2016)

This memoir was written shortly before the author's death from a brain tumor, a tumor that not only took her life, but diminished her facility with words, a truly horrifying thing for someone whose passion and livelihood revolved around language, reading, and writing. At the same time, in a coincidence that she points out would never fly in fiction, a dear friend of hers, also a writer, was diagnosed with the same kind of tumor. Meanwhile, her mother, once an erudite author and well-regarded show more broadcaster, was descending into dementia, increasingly unable to communicate her own disordered thoughts.

It's a sad, painful story, but one that Georgia Blain writes about with honesty, gentleness, and insight as she reflects on on her life, her illness, and her family, as well as on words, writing, and language. Whatever her difficulties in writing might be, I don't think you can tell it from her prose, which is clean and elegant. She is sincere and open, but also restrained and thoughtful. It is not, perhaps, the kind of deathbed memoir that leaves one in floods of tears, but it did make my throat tighten up a time or two. As a fellow lover of words and books, I find her plight, and that of her friend and her mother, both deeply horrific and poignantly easy to relate to. show less

Great character writing as usual from Georgia. Family dramas that relate. So much emotion, so well communicated. One of the characters is dying from brain cancer, so there was added poignancy in knowing Georgia herself was soon to leave us by the same route.

I'm not normally a big fan of short stories, but Georgia Blain has really done a great job with these explorations of relationships between men, women and children. Nearly all of the stories seemed to me to have an Australian-ness about them, although I'd be hard pressed to point to specific features that produce that feeling...I suppose it's the familiarity of the urban and bush environments that she describes. Not all the characters were appealing to me but nonetheless I did enjoy reading show more about them. I found Blain's portrayal of difficult and failed relationships to be particularly insightful. I would have liked to have explored some of these situations in longer form. I'm sad that no more works are being added to the Georgia Blain catalog. Death comes unfairly early for too many people and I don't know how to understand that. Maybe I will see what Blain's end of life memoir, The Museum of Words, has to say. show less

THE MUSEUM OF WORDS is one of the finest book titles of all times. It makes the reader wonder, ask questions, think, reflect, and - most of all - want to read the book. But the book with the incredible title is a sad book. The author, Georgia Blain, has been diagnosed with a cancerous brain tumor. She is a writer; this is devastating. Happening around the same time, Georgia's mother, Anne, also a writer, is diagnosed with Alzheimer's and starts losing what makes her life important and real: show more words. Anne and Georgia share a special friend named Rosie, she is a writer as well. Strangely, Rosie is also diagnosed with a cancerous brain tumor. Three women, all of whose lives revolve around words and communication, are losing their words, and running out of time.

As a memoir, THE MUSEUM OF WORDS is startling. No memoir about cancer or Alzheimer's can be expected to be a happy book, but the immensity of the tragedy in this book is almost unreal. It is difficult to imagine three women, all close to each other, all devoted to writing, to suddenly be diagnosed with diseases that are going to rob them of the words in their minds, rob them of their minds, and rob them of their lives.

The interesting aspect of the memoir is Georgia's description of her relationship with her mother and of their mutual friend, Rosie. The way the three relate to each other is intriguing; the way they decline is devastating. Georgia's description of her mother's little storefront house near the beach is one of the best parts of the book. Almost any reader can visualize him or herself living in that building, working at that desk. When the house comes up for sale, another woman named Anne buys it. The book is just full of odd coincidences like this.

Georgia writes beautifully of her daughter, Odessa, often bringing the subject back to language and words: how Odessa learned to speak when she was a baby - and what she said; how Odessa learned French as an exchange student, and what she noticed about learning a second language. As one finishes the book, sure that Georgia, Anne, and Rosie are all going to die, one worries for Odessa and what will happen to her.

THE MUSEUM OF WORDS could be the title of just about anything, but in this case, it is the title of absolute horror that tears at the reader - presumably most readers are lovers of words - in the most painful way. Adios, three brave women of Australia. One wishes this book never had to be written. show less