Meg Mason

Had me crying multiple times it was serious ... I'm gonna miss everyone and their fuck-ups so badly and it is a lot more meticulously written than it seems. Rereading some bits and the scene where a young Martha realises that she has had Winsome all wrong was painful because it foreshadows her adulthood - sometimes we (un)intentionally put down the people we love because we need them to be worse than how we feel. But in so doing we also fail to see ourselves as full and whole human beings show more with choices, however difficult they may be to make. I think that the novel also navigates the complicated relationship between disability, pain, and identity in a sobering and incredibly compassionate way. Borrowed from the library but I might get a copy.

— "I have been loved every day of my adult life. I have been unbearable but I have never been unloved. I have felt alone but I have never been alone and I've been forgiven for the unforgivable things I have done."

— "My perception of Winsome belonged to my mother—I thought of her as old, punctilious, someone without an interior life or worthwhile passions. That was the first time I saw her for myself. Winsome was an adult, someone who took care, who loved order and beauty and labored to create it as a gift to other people." show less

Loved it until the baby stuff

Loved the accurate depiction of mental health though it was really frustrating that the diagnosis was not named. The writing was really good and I loved the characters but I hated the whole baby arc like why does every woman in every book just want a kid really bad. Is it not possible to have any other ambition as a woman??? Or none at all? Like my cat is spayed so she can’t have babies, does that mean she can’t fulfill her life’s purpose?

Loved this! It reminded me of Eleanor Oliphant - a tragic premise but presented with humor and wit and enough detachment to not get too emotionally bogged down, but still able to have empathy. The narrator, Martha lives under the shadow of an undiagnosed (correctly) mental illness. As she describes: "a bomb went off in my brain." This happens at age 17. Her home life can't have helped: mother Celia Berry is a sculptor and an enthusiastic drinker, especially with the onset of Martha's show more illness. Her father Fergus Russell is an unfulfilled/unpublished poet who peaked at age 19 and hasn't published since. Her sister Ingrid is a rock and their relationship is delightful and hilarious! Definitely a Lucy and Ethel vibe with more snark. The two 'survive' their childhood - Ingrid without the added challenge Martha has. So in young adulthood, Martha founders - getting married to a jackass for 48 days (despite Ingrid's warning), not able to complete college due to her 'spells,' but having periods of functionality too: writing for a magazine, living on her own in Paris for a couple years in her boss/friend Peregrine's apt. Finally at her sister's wedding, she encounters an old family friend, Patrick with his own family baggage and a long-standing crush on Martha even though she is three years older. Their marriage is longer lasting - 8 years - because Patrick is totally codependent, but also completely in love with Martha. She has turned mean, hurtful, jaded, erratic - in part because of her illness, but also unresolved issues. Finally she sees a doctor who gives her the right diagnosis and the right meds, and while this is physically healing, Martha still has some heart healing to do surrounding her mother and Patrick. This requires the paradoxical blowing up of everything in her life in order to rise again from the ashes. You definitely pull for her! The setting in England, the contemporary culture and uber-intelligent dialogue and insight with a liberal coating of humor make this potentially dark story actually heartwarming. Fave quote from the book that best summarizes the book: "Nostalgia is the suffering caused by our unappeased yearning to return. Whether or not, ... the home we long for ever existed." (116) show less

Sorrow and Bliss is a smiling through tears kind of book - heartbreakingly sad one minute and laugh out loud funny the next.

Super close sisters Martha (the clever one) and Ingrid (boobs and babies) share a bohemian upbringing with mum, minorly important sculptor and drinker Celia Barry predominantly locked away in her repurposing shed, and dad, study-bound poet Fergus Russell struggling with his long overdue anthology when not packing his bags. All-night parties, half-finished projects and show more grilled pork chops are the norm until a little bomb goes off in Martha’s brain when she is seventeen.

Meg Mason manages to temper serious issues (the different specialists, different diagnoses, different advice and different prescriptions; the stigma and discrimination attached to mental illness and its consequences; the devastating effect on both the afflicted and their loved ones; depression and dysfunction) with humour (full-on family festivities with Aunt Winsome, all things Jonathan Parker, text emojis - aubergine, cherries and open scissors!) and tender, heartfelt moments (alphabet stories, shared strips of comfort flannel, the meaning of motherhood and the lost little boy that was Patrick) as we follow Martha on her journey of self discovery.

A totally immersive, extremely moving and thought-provoking read.
Soul-searching, sad and smiley. show less