A thriller by Katie Kitamura, an argument for medically-assisted suicide, and insights into growing up an only child are our picks of the best books this month.
A Separation
Katie Kitamura
Clerkenwell Press
A Separation, by American novelist and journalist Katie Kitamura, has been one of the most highly anticipated books of 2017, no doubt because her two previous novels won literary awards and were highly acclaimed by critics and fellow writers. Her third is a tightly plotted thriller that does not disappoint.
It opens in London, where the (unnamed) narrator has been separated for six months from her husband, the handsome, womanising Christopher. His domineering mother, Isabella, has contacted her daughter-in-law to report him missing in Greece and demand that she travel there to find him. Isabella does not know that they are separated, nor that the narrator is in a new relationship with an old friend of Christopher’s. The scene thus set, the plot unfolds with twists and turns on every page. Kitamura’s cool, crisp writing, spare to the point of detachment, adds to the air of mystique.
A Separation is a meditation on love, marriage, and the inherent weakness of both, because “between two people there will always be room for surprises and misapprehension”. Kitamura also explores jealousy, especially when it arises from one partner loving the other more than they are loved in return.
Her depiction of the breakdown of a once happy marriage, and the soul-searching that ensues, is spot-on. The narrator’s matter-of-fact tone masks her complex emotions as she tries to resolve her feelings for Christopher, wavering between a desire for divorce and a reluctance to take this final step. Polish it off in one hit if you can.
Only
Caroline Baum
Allen & Unwin
Journalist Caroline Baum’s poignant memoir, Only, provides an illuminating insight into the joys and challenges of life as an only child.
Baum was born in London to a French mother and Austrian father, both of whom doted on her. Materially she wanted for nothing, with birthday parties in Mayfair and summer holidays in the south of France. However, beneath the glamorous veneer Baum’s parents were deeply unhappy, each damaged by traumatic childhoods. As parents they were controlling and over-protective, reminding her regularly that she was “the only one we’ve got”.
Baum was an unusually compliant child – the quintessential “good daughter”. When she belatedly rebelled in her 40s, she felt guilt but also a sense of liberation. The three-year rift that eventuated led her to reassess her own values, having unquestioningly adopted those of her parents for so long. A finely wrought observation of the ties that bind.
Time to Die
Rodney Syme
Melbourne University Press
Urologist for 50 years and an end-of-life counsellor for the past 25, Dr Rodney Syme has risked prosecution by prescribing Nembutal to patients whose death was imminent. In his first book, A Good Death¸ he argued that such medically assisted suicide should not be illegal. In Time to Die he contends that it should be available to those suffering from an advanced, incurable illness such as Motor Neurone Disease.
Syme begins by describing the suffering, psychological and physical, he's witnessed. He argues that although doctors have a duty to relieve suffering, they are not always able to do so. He contends that the best palliative care a doctor can offer someone in this position is control over his or her death. Syme refutes many of the arguments against medically-assisted suicide by pointing out that none of the dire predictions about "slippery slopes" have come to pass in countries where it's legal. He also makes considered recommendations for law reform in Australia.
