The Grief of Others reminds me of an elegant package, with layers and layers of exquisite paper. Yet when everything is opened, what remains is a mystery box, something that entices and at the same time, disappoints.

The writing is, indeed, beautiful. The story opens with Ricky Ryrie in a hospital bed, holding her newborn son who is fated to die within the next few hours. “The whorls of his ears were as marvelously convoluted as any Echer drawing, the symmetry precise, the lobs little as teardrops, soft as peaches,” Ms. Cohen writes.

The aftermath of the newborns death will cause a vortex of emotions in each member of the family: Ricky, her husband John, their two children Paul and Biscuit, and John’s grown daughter from a former dalliance, Jess. The children begin to act out in their own ways; Biscuit becomes obsessed with farewell rituals, Paul overeats and rails against his classmates’ assessment of him. And Jess reflects, “What she remembers of the Ryries, the memory she cherished above all of her time with them on that single summer holiday eight years ago, was how shiny she had appeared in their eyes, how good and honorable and clean.” She yearns for that feeling of being prized, at a time when the Ryries have nothing left to give.

All of this centers around accepting that Ricky, who finds out in her fifth month that she is pregnant with an anencephalic child – a child that is missing the major portion of his brain and also the top of his skull and scalp – chooses to go forward with her pregnancy, not telling anyone, even John, and pulling off a pretense that everything is fine for the next four months. Were she a religious person – or perhaps a woman who had striven long and hard to bear a child – one could understand her decision. (She is told that the vast majority of women do not go through with the pregnancy). But the reader is given no insight into Ricky and why it is so important for her to carry this baby to term, knowing the heartache ahead, risking her marriage.

I felt somewhat distanced from these characters, wanting to understand and relate to them more than I did. Ms. Cohen does a masterful job at portraying a family falling apart, isolated by grief, isolated from each other. If only the pivotal plot point had been developed a little more. Not quite 4 stars.
17 s1 comment Alison344 69

For the first 100 pages I thought the writing was beautiful, but by the last 100 it started to feel it was breaking under the weight of its own self-importance. The language could be beautiful, but it never took the characters anywhere. Characters that intrigued me in the beginning were boring me by the end. The author kept saying that John and Ricky were madly in love at one point, but there was never tangible evidence of it. If there had been, I might have been more deeply invested in their fate. I finally got through Ricky that the flashbacks to the two weeks at the lake were about observing them at their pinnacle, their happiest time, but it felt manufactured to me. Why condense a marriage into two weird weeks in the past and expect it to tell us everything we need to know.

It just didn't feel much of a story-- a room decorated with a dozen perfect little details, but taken as a whole they add up to just that, details. All that said, I thought she did nail many of the emotions, and I certainly felt there were moments of beauty and pathos between the family members. But it just wasn't a riveting read.12 s Elaine Mullane || Elaine and the Books943 352

In a similar vein to the work of Celeste Ng, The Grief of Others is a perceptive and absorbing domestic drama and a subtle portrait of modern American family life and its complex bonds. Illuminating the humanity of expertly evoked characters, Leah Hager Cohen's novel is a beautiful magnification of the kind of sorrow that can deeply affect day-to-day family life.

The Ryries have experienced a terrible loss: their new baby has died just fifty-seven hours after his birth. John and Ricky struggle to regain a form of normalcy for themselves and their two older children and within their new reality, a secret emerges and long-suppressed uncertainties about their marriage come bubbling to the surface. As the four family members try to deal with their individual, private grief, an unexpected but familiar visitor comes calling and the family's focus shifts to the problems and sadness of others. By finally allowing themselves to share their experience of grief, the Ryries rekindle feelings of tenderness and hope.

The structure of this novel is seamlessly presented as Cohen brings us from past to present and back again. Her prose is gracefully written and elegant, and her engrossing and revealing look at family life is powerful. The Grief of Others examines parenthood and marriage, sorrow and hope. It is intimate and moving, and utterly beautiful. 4.5 stars.readwomen recommended7 s Gayla Bassham1,237 32

The problem with having a near-brilliant first five pages is that the rest of the book might not live up to it. The first five pages of this book are devastating--it really is the fastest a book has ever made me cry--and beautiful and real. But much of the rest of the book doesn't live up to it. I loved Ricky, but we don't spend much time with her; the author chooses instead to give us pages and pages with her husband John, her children Paul and Biscuit (the cutesy nickname makes me wince, but then one of my children goes by Jibbitz at home, so who am I to judge?), John's grown daughter Jess, a random passerby named Gordie. The diffuse focus weakens the book.

I really just did not give a rat's ass about Gordie. Sorry. Ultimately what I did care about was Ricky and John and their marriage. The writing of the marriage, of the various ways they fail each other, was very well-done and the best part of the book. I wish there had been more of it! The ending of the book works, despite the self-consciously literary way in which it's written. 2012-reads orange-prize-2012 src-spring-20126 s Larraine1,017 14

Yet another book that I picked up on impulse at the library - and I'm so glad I did. I've discovered another superb writer in Leah Hager Cohen
It's a story of grief - over the loss of a child, the chill in a marriage, and how the surviving children are affected. Ms. Cohen writes so gently and, at the same time, is strong and even cold-blooded in her dissection of the characters.

We meet the mother in the maternity ward as she holds her newborn son who is doomed to live only a few days. Born anencephalic and with part of his skull missing, he seems to be so perfect - if he would only open his eyes. Of course he doesn't.

Afterward, the parents try to push their grief out of the way and get on with their lives. How we deal with grief, how it effects out lives is the story here. It is wonderfully and beautifully told here. I don't often get tears in my eyes at the end of a book, but this one affected me greatly. 6 s Marguerite Hargreaves1,276 27

I d this well enough up to the last five pages. Instead of ending the story where it was, which would have worked, Leah Hager Cohen steps in with an omniscient voice to say she has intended the ambiguities and lack of resolution she now points out, which strikes me as patronizing, parting the curtain so we can understand the mind of the author. I thought the opposite, that the story is a little too pat, perhaps, the assurance of depth notwithstanding.

The voice of 10-year-old Biscuit is wrong; the character Gordie seems an afterthought. Flipping forward and back in time is gimmicky, but maybe easier on the writer. Portions of the book are overwritten, it was designed to be quoted by Oprah.

In the end, it doesn't help me understand my grief or that of others.contemporary-fiction5 s Abby256

Leah Hager Cohen is an exquisite writer. She is able to sketch characters with keen insight and to write with beauty and clarity. I thought the first 100 pages of this novel were magnificent.

The grief of a family (as well as all the secrets and knotted relationships that can come unravelled from tragedy) is a subject worthy of exploration, and Cohen plumbs its depths well (if in a slightly pedantic and self-righteous voice). However, the exposition of the characters occur too often through their interior monologues, which make the characters seem inauthentic and the plot belabored.

Cohen's desire to explore weighty questions such as who is a good person, how do relationships work, what are the compromises one makes in a marriage, and what is the right way to deal with grief can lead her to "tell" rather than "show," leading to narrative strands that never get resolved (such as Paul kissing his half-sister Jess, Ricky calling her parents in the middle of the night to beseechingly ask them whether they think she's a good person, Jordie's exploration of his sexual identity, or a high-art discussion involving Jordie's deceased father's folk-art dioramas). At times, Cohen seems to be striving for some sort of dissertation extra credit with her extraneous details and narrative strands.

At other times, Cohen strives for too much plot symmetry, as Jess's baby dies nearly a year after Ricky's does.

The novel flips back and forth in time, between the present and a year ago, as well as the present and eight years ago (when the Ryrie family took a mythic summer vacation at a lakeside cabin in upstate NY). The time changes are confusing rather than elucidating. Instead of peeling back more and more layers of each character, each change just makes them more pedestrian and less interesting (once again, through Cohen's tendency to tell rather than show). The novel finally ends with everything neatly wrapped up for the Ryrie family and Cohen employing a cloying omniscient narrator's voice to say that relationships are complicated and ever-changing.This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.Show full reviewbooks-read-in-20124 s ? Anna ? | ReadAllNight804

3.5

I found the writing to be refreshing and not weighed down in a story that might more typically deal with grief. Also having each person's perspective kept it more interesting, although there is less of John in this regard which I wasn't sure how to take as he really had been betrayed repeatedly. The children's voices are wonderful. It really wasn't what I was expecting at all. Enjoyed the writing and language greatly. A bit amazed at Ricky's immaturity and completely irrational attempts to match up things (wrongs) that were absolutely not. The children really do steal your hearts. Worth hanging on to.paperback4 s switterbug (Betsey)883 1,055

What is grief? It has no physical properties, but it fills a room, a life, many lives, and creates pain. It's bigger than a boulder, but is amorphous. You can't domesticate or quarantine grief, but it can isolate, alienate, afflict. The sun rises and sets, our shadows shorten and lengthen, but grief reaches into darkness and obscures the light. Its stride is long and its span is spacious, but it has no measure. Grief is timeless, but time heals, according to the maxim.

This novel is about a family whose grief is palpable in every room, in every sigh, but they aren't discussing their shared mourning. Its presence is living proof, and it is kindling the death of love and connection. Paradoxically, this loss of connection is so perceptible that they are all hung together in an imperceptible noose, connected in sorrow. Hope is a tenuous flame fluttering in a precarious wind.

The Ryries of upper state NY each have a story that funnels into the larger story of their family life. John entertained the gypsy life of theatric design, and when his wife, Ricky, the financial engineer, put her foot down, he got a steady job at a local community college. Ricky earns a corporate paycheck, but is resentful of John's more laid back and essentially fun job. Truly, the resentments build both ways, and when tragedy strikes, they fail to lean on each other in a healing manner. Damaging secrets come out later, and lead to sequestered grieving. On top of all that, a visitor comes--a blast from the past, someone who is part of the presence of everything.

John and Ricky's daughter, Biscuit (Elizabeth), is a sixth-grader, hoarding a book from the library on the ritual burying and funereal practices of worldwide cultures. Her brother, Paul, is thirteen and in a very awkward phase, subject to relentless school bullying. Enter Gordie and his dog, Ebie, who meet Biscuit down by the river. Biscuit is doing who-knows-what with ashes and bone and an egg, and gets pushed in the water by Ebie. The drying off process leads to Gordie and Ebie meeting the whole Ryrie family and their visitor. The multivalent chorus of the theme and story whorls around all these characters, and their private anguishes and public displays of untidy and unresolved grief keep the reader engaged until the suspenseful resolve.

Cohen has a knack for the "mot juste," Flaubert's term for the exact right word. She is a magician with words, metaphors, and imagery. The sentences and passages are delicate and edgy, muscular and creamy. Every felicitous line is meaningful and enchanting. Moreover, her tone and mood is suggestive and tender without sentimentality; you feel with the characters and move with the story.

The drawback is within the primary thread of the set-up. Ricky makes a decision, setting up the initial complexity of her tragedy, that is impossibly difficult to swallow, and it becomes a thorn in the story's authenticity. Although the author braids it into a beautiful circle, and creates a provocative sense of discovery of human nature--a discovery that is genuine and believable--the logistics of penning this structure in order to lead to this enlightenment requires a quantum leap of disbelief suspension.

However, this is a book I would recommend to literature lovers who enjoy ripe, eloquent domestic dramas. Cohen's impressive curvature of prose and fluent, credible understanding of grief and all its counterintuitive responses and follicular journey, carry the reader into places beyond the bend. THE GRIEF OF OTHERS ultimately illuminates the grace of self and unity with being and beings.3 s Kat1,124 8

This is one of my favourite types of novel: a contemporary story, told from multiple perspectives, with compleling complex characters. I always thought that this type of book was called a novel of manners, but, when I looked up the definition, maybe not. In any case this is a fine example of such a novel, whatever its genre might be called.
It starts out with a heart-breaking description of the short life (57 hours) of Simon Ryrie, who is born without a brain stem. So you think maybe the hard part, the sad part is over. Not so much. The book is about the baby's parents' and their two older children's grief and mourning. There are complications in the form of two new-comers who join the family for a while and whose presence helps the Ryries recover.
I don't want to give the impression that the book is unbearably sad: it mostly isn't, other than that first part. The novel jumps back and forth in time, presenting some of the back-stories which help explain the characters actions. I found it very moving and authentic. 3 s T. GreenwoodAuthor 22 books1,751

I picked this book up, honestly, because the description of it made it sound a medley of my own work...including a character who makes dioramas? Wow! Kindred author spirits :) And now, I am so pleased I did. This novel is a painfully acute portrait of a family in crisis. The writing is terrific. And the end, while heart-breaking, is exactly what it needs to be. My only complaint was that I found the character of Ricky difficult to ...but in one brief scene, she redeems herself painfully and absolutely.

I will definitely seek out her other work.3 s Cassandra343 9

This one took me a while to get through, but I didn't find that the slow pace took away from my enjoyment of reading it. Not that I would necessarily say this is a book that is enjoyed. It was slow, heartbreaking, and if I'm being honest a little too real. It was so easy to relate to each member of the Ryrie family and understand their self-depreciating actions. Everyone deals with grief differently, and Cohen shows this beautifully with this family of four just trying to get by after losing the newest addition to their family a short 57 hours after he was born. 2 s Wendy Armstrong170 15

Couldn't get into it. There's a protracted, detailed description of a kid called Biscuit riding her bike somewhere or meandering around instead of going to school (or something) and I lost patience and gave up on the book. Sorry.1 kerry halpin61 1 follower

so many thoughts!!!!

intriguing how a broken person enters a broken family and somehow together they make it whole. for the six very complex characters in this book, the author seemed to make them feel very real.

for book plot lovers, this isn’t really one for you. it’s more so on the growth of family, self-discovery, and overcoming grief when you have to. you grow with the characters instead of seeing them go through one singular event.

10/10 really quite enjoyed

random thought: i think i would’ve loved this book more if i were a mother/maternal figure to someone…. this book gives off those vibes. 2 s Sophia139 11

I came to The Grief of Others with mixed feelings. With a title this, I was afraid I might be letting myself in for a deeply depressing experience. However, though this book was imbued with tragedy, the excellence of the writing meant I never regretted my decision to read it.


The story opens with the death of a baby, after just 57 hours of fragile life, and deals with the events, feelings, guilt and recriminations of his family in the time leading up to and following his death. Ricky, his mother, has kept a terrible secret from her husband, John, and when it is revealed their marriage threatens to unravel. Their son Paul is at a painfully awkward age and suffering horribly from bullies at school, while his younger sister, nicknamed Biscuit, is skipping school and craves attention from parents too wrapped up in their own misery to give it.


Into this sorry family comes Jess, John's daughter from a previous relationship, now a grown woman he barely knows who shows up pregnant on his doorstep. And then we have Gordie, a young man with an adorable dog who meets the family and finds himself drawn to them, particularly Jess.


The book hooked me in immediately with a beautifully-written opening chapter describing the baby's few hours of life. The perspectives then change, with each of the characters giving their internal monalogues in turn. We learn how the baby's death has affected them all, and how they manage to muddle through their grief. I particularly d the parts focusing on Paul and Biscuit, who are less affected by the death itself than by the resulting changes in their parents and the shift it has caused in their family dynamic.


The time periods dart about a bit, and that, coupled with the frequent changes in perspective, did mean that chapters would sometimes end on a cliffhanger (I use the term loosely) and then leave you dangling while the story goes off to follow someone else. I didn't mind this too much, but it did mean that some moments of drama lost their impact when my attention was immediately diverted elsewhere.


The fact that each character keeps their thoughts inside, relayed in their heads but not spoken of to each other, did start to annoy me after a while. I wanted to knock their heads together on several occasions (particularly John and Ricky's) and I'm afraid the book did start to get me down after a while. Not in a 'it's so emotional I'm going to cry' kind of way, but in a 'ugh, I've had enough now, is it nearly over' way.


I'm afraid it sounds I hated this book and I really didn't. As I said, the quality of the writing is exceptional and that did help to mitigate the book's weaknesses. Most of the characters were able and I did feel I got to know them well. Despite my misgivings and occasional sighs of fed-upness, this still deserves four stars2 s Beth551 63

When he was born he was alive. That was one thing.
He was a he, too, astonishingly--not that anyone expected him to be otherwise, but the notion of one so elemental, so small, carrying the complex mantle of gender seemed preposterous, the designation "male" the linguistic equivalent of a false mustache fixed above his infant lip.
His lips, how barely pink they were, the pink of the rim of the sky at winter dusk. And their curl--in the way that the upper lip rose to peaks and dipped down again, twice, a bobbing valentine; and in the way the lower bowed out, luxuriant, lush, as if sated already from a lifetime of pleasures--how improbably expressive were his lips.

Leah Hager Cohen begins the beautiful and poignant tale of family and loss which is The Grief of Others with this passage. It is the start of the description of a tiny child, destined from long before birth to the only the briefest of time with his family. Cohen's novel is a gorgeous, yet simple and direct, tale of the simultaneous strength and fragility of human connection. It is told from the varying perspectives of the members of the Ryrie family and of a recently orphaned college student whose path accidentally crosses with theirs at a key moment in their lives. To immerse yourself in this novel is to face questions not only of the mortality alluded to by the title, but also of one's own capacity for emotional fidelity, honesty, and responsibility. To engage with Cohen's beautiful prose is also to face the devastating reality of the many paths we must choose in the small moments which make up our lives, some of which may carry us far afield, even as we may only be beginning to recognize the destination to which we want to direct our journey. Cohen doesn't provide a pat and simple closure either, but openly admits that to anticipate with too much certainty where the paths we choose will take us is an act of hubris, and so we are left simply with open questions and a quiet glimmering of hope to connect us to the characters as the book draws to a close. And this makes the gently devastating novel all the more satisfying, somehow. audiobooks2 s Monica740 5

Okay, so I will be honest and say I did not finish it, but I am finished with it. I mistakenly updated my Kindle, meaning to finish this book before syncing (I borrowed it from the library), and then lost it. I considered borrowing it again, but then I asked myself, "why?" I was 57% done with the book when I updated, and still didn't care about any of the characters or what happened to them. Although, I usually keep plugging along when I have invested that much time, it is not worth it. The writing is average; the plot line, average; the characters, less than average.fiction2 s Giulia152 138

I'd give it 4 stars .

I loved this book.
I was blown away by Cohen's writing, every word seemed to pull me in. Her prose is beautiful.
And I found the characters to be intricate yet so down to earth and relatable. I was really impressed by how the story went on, it looked they were writing it and living it at the moment.

I had no expectations about this book. I picked it up at the library and read the back cover, it seemed ok, the kind of plot I , etcetera.
Instead, it was so much more. I can't wait to read something else of the same writer.contemporary-fiction fiction read-in-20152 s Kim736

2.5 stars, wouldn't mind reading a sequel...2 s Sarah Swedberg341 5

This is a very good book and worth reading. Maybe because it's about not being able to see the grief of others, I couldn't become very attached to any of the characters. They all seemed to exist on the surface, except for, perhaps Biscuit, as we see her experiencing grief more fully.

It ends with a Greek-chorus musing, which seemed too much my students' conclusions: I have to wrap this up and so here it is.1 Rex Kelly44 4

I only gave it 3 stars because it was well written, but a touch boring. No rise and fall of characters or storylines, but very poetic way of writing. 1 Brczdn373 17

Bir ailede üyelerin farkl? ya?larda kederle ve ihmal edilmi?likle ba? etme yollar?n? anlatan kitap konusu itibariyle ilgi çekici olsa da uzun uzun tasvirler okurken s?kt?. Arad???m? bulamad?m. 1 Joel Lavoie39

Un livré profondément humain sur les relations familiales, les espoirs et les peurs qui nous motivent; souvent sans le savoir. 1 Michelle2,173 271 Read

The Grief of Others explores the breakdown of communication that typically results during periods of loss, no matter what the cause of the loss. Everyone handles loss differently, and through the eyes of six different characters, Ms. Cohen showcases the various ways others are affected by a typically internalized feeling. Often heartbreaking, The Grief of Others comes across as a warning shot to others who may be experiencing similar emotional upheaval.

Unfortunately, what starts out as poignant individualized stories of coping ends up devolving into a bewildering cacophony of chaos as the characters begin to come together and share their burdens with each other. This results with the introduction of two characters outside the Ryrie household through which the Ryries are forced to come to grips with their own mourning. Without the additional characters, the story would have remained concise and powerful. With the two characters, however, there are two more distractions from the overall story that detract from the Ryries’ experiences.

Ms. Cohen does a tremendous job capturing the subtleties of various reactions, especially the reactions of the children. From Biscuit’s fascination with funereal rights, Paul’s self-imposed isolation from all but one of his peers, Ricky’s withdrawal from her family, and John’s bewilderment, all four struggle with the long-lasting results of not seeking closure and discussing their feelings with each other at the time of the incident. Readers with children of similar ages to Biscuit and Paul will agonize over their withdrawals and mute forms of rebellion.

Unfortunately, Ricky’s and John’s struggles are not as powerful, as Ricky and John are not as sympathetic. Ricky’s motivations behind her decision to withhold key information from her husband are never fully explained in a satisfactory manner. John’s reactions to her “betrayal” appear overly dramatic for the situation. Furthermore, whereas Ms. Cohen satisfactorily concludes Biscuit and Paul’s futures, Ricky and John’s futures remain deliberately open to interpretation by the reader. It is frustrating and a trivialization to the seriousness of infidelity and trust on a marriage.

The Grief of Others is a book of two parts. When the story revolves around Paul’s and Biscuit’s issues, it is a poignant story that tugs on the heartstrings, as these two lost children try to grope their way around a larger world in which they have been left to flounder by their grieving parents. When the story revolves around Ricky and John, it is a maudlin, overly simplistic sermon on the dangers of keeping secrets and the importance of trust in a marriage. The two stories eventually come together by the end of the novel to create a confusing narrative in which a reader is not certain just what to take away from it in the end. That Ms. Cohen is trying to present her readers with a specific lesson is very clear; just what that lesson is remains unclear. It is the unfortunate dichotomy of story lines that creates a majority of the muddiness, which is unfortunate when one considers just how powerful the story could have been with the right focus.

Acknowledgements: Thank you to TLC Book Tours and Riverhead Books for my advanced reading copy!1 Frances185 3

When I read a review of Leah Hager Cohen’s novel "The Grief of Others," I was curious how it would compare to Jonathan Franzen’s "Freedom." The books possess similar elements, a fraying family, suburbia, secrets. As readers of Booking Around are aware, I did not "Freedom." I felt differently about The Grief of Others.

The Ryries live outside of New York City in a pleasant neighborhood and have two children. John also has an elder daughter from a relationship in college and the Ryries have just lost their infant son. Ricky chose to carry the baby to term, though she knew he would survive only a few hours after his birth. He had a rare defect where his skull didn’t properly form to protect his brain. Ricky kept this knowledge from her husband John and her secretive decision has opened a vast chasm between them and shaken the constructs of their family.

The shift has affected both their children, and the parents seem just mildly aware of the impact their marital trouble is having. Paul is being bullied by his peers, and Biscuit has started skipping school for no reason they can discern at the early age of ten. John’s first daughter, and their half-sister, Jessica shows up with a pregnancy of her own, and it is her presence that begins to bring the Ryries’ rupture to light.

What Hager Cohen draws from her characters is the human despair and desire to improve that Franzen failed to imbue in the Berglunds. They infuriated me because they saw their problems but wouldn’t attempt to repair them and answered the situation by destroying the lives of the people around them instead. The Ryries are similarly on fragile ground, and while the behavior that occurs may be hurtful, it is not cruel. The complexity of desires and selfishness of people, even mothers and fathers, is not overlooked by Hager Cohen, but neither is it indulged.

Gordie is another character who comes into the frame of the Ryries lives. He is of college age and has lost his father to cancer. He happens to spot Biscuit as she falls into the river and brings the sodden child home and finds himself welcomed into a home that doesn’t seem to have room for each other. He is suffering from his own grief and confusion about who he is now that he has one less template of personhood to compare to.

Hager Cohen gets deep into the heads of all of her characters, illustrating each with clear and sometimes startling illuminations of their thoughts. Her writing has the qualities of a river, direct in its course but able to respond to interferences and changes in light. The book is about recovering from crisis. Moving beyond what one believes one is capable of in order to be there for the ones left behind. The Ryries struggle to revitalize what they have built without razing their first attempt. The work is hard but the ability to reflect is available to them and recognized.

http://bookingaround.tumblr.com/1 Diane2,071 5

The Grief of Others is a heartbreaking story about the death of a newborn, and how such a loss affects the entire family. Ricky and John Ryrie's newborn son dies just days after birth, as a result of a serious birth defect. While this situation in itself would be painful enough to deal with, for the Ryries the situation is made worse by the fact, Ricky knew her risk was high for having an infant that might not survive, yet she chose to keep the info to herself, just in case the tests, indicating the possibility of a rare brain deformity, were wrong. She ignores the radiologist's statement that most couples in this situation would opt for an abortion -- for Ricky this was never an option.

When John finds out about the secret Ricky had been keeping from him, their marriage becomes more unstable. To complicate family life even more, while both husband and wife are trying to deal with their own emotional pain and grief, their two other children are dealing with painful situations of their own. Their thirteen year-old son Paul, is being picked on by school bullies and daughter, Elizabeth "Biscuit", is a mess as well. The 6th grader, cannot understand why her baby brother baby never came home from the hospital. She even attempts a strange funeral ritual for the baby whose life ended before it began. Sadly, neither child feels they can count on their parents at this time for answers or comfort, since they are dealing with their own grief. In addition. there are also two other fairly significant characters who come into the story, both in some ways complicate the situation the Ryries are dealing with, but ultimately they play an important part of the healing process.

The Grief of Others is not a happy novel. I found it quite sad, yet the story was an important one. Each of the characters seemed believable and sympathetic for different reasons. The author writes well, but at times I felt the writing was a bit too descriptive given the painful subject matter. But, for all the sadness in this book, the ending left me hopeful. In my opinion, when an author can make that happen without making the ending seem contrived, it's a book worth reading. This book is recommended, as long as you are not feeling depressed when you begin it, and the cover is one of the prettiest ones I've seen in a long time.1 Amy1,675 157

I was so intrigued by the premise of this novel (and that cover - it's so compelling - even if it doesn't match the story at ALL in terms of the characters & their ages) that I couldn't wait to read it. It sounded something right up my alley. I seem to be drawn to books that have some level of sadness and what not. Given its focus on grief, this one seemed to have all of the components that I in a literary novel.

Let's start with the good - this is a beautifully written book. Leah Hager Cohen is obviously a fantastic writer. I was incredibly moved by some of the writing, particularly at the start of the novel. The opening scene in the hospital was so beautifully written that I read it over and over, amazed at the picture the words were painting. However beautiful the language, I felt that it didn't take the story anywhere. It didn't make the characters come alive. It didn't do what beautiful writing is supposed to do - make the novel brilliant and readable. Instead, it seemed to get bogged down in the beauty of the words but somehow neglected moving the story anywhere interesting for the reader. It was the novel was all prettied up with this beautiful language and imagery but it never actually came into itself. It was stagnated and just sat there.

I love the idea of this novel - an exploration of a family and how that family handles the ups and downs of life. However, the family in this novel felt very unreal to me - I never connected with them or really even felt that they were in any way connected to each other despite being told over and over that they are connected. Perhaps that disconnection was intentional given the themes but it didn't do much to make the novel actually interesting.

I'm really conflicted about this one. It had such potential but ultimately fell flat for me. Perhaps I wanted to love it so much that it led to disappointment. I'm not sure. But, I ultimately d this one but didn't love it. It was better than OK but not great - it was a solid 'good' book. I'm not sure that I recommend it ... I think its worth a read, particularly if you beautiful writing. But, it won't blow your socks off and I worry that it may leave you feeling ambivalent in some way.fiction read-in-20121 Laurel-RainAuthor 6 books253

Loss presents itself in its many forms throughout this portrait of a family: the Ryries, who live in Nyack, NY, and seemingly live ordinary lives.

When their third child is born anencephalic, his death is a certainty. In fact, he lives for fifty-seven hours.

Then the family shifts into everyday life, with scarcely a blink, and their separate grief unfolds in symptomatic ways that reveal the testing of the bonds that connect them.

"The Grief of Others" is narrated in alternating perspectives, moving back and forth between the past and present. In the beginning, we see the ten-year-old daughter Biscuit struggling with her own ritualistic way of dealing with what has happened.

Paul, the thirteen-year-old, is silently suffering while being brutally bullied by classmates.

And John and Ricky, the parents, move along parallel pathways, seldom connecting at all, until it is soon apparent that the events of loss were not the trigger for their disintegrating marriage, but the instrument that casts a spotlight upon what is wrong in their relationship. Secrets, betrayals, and lies are all gradually revealed as the reader turns the pages.

A wild card in this tragic family portrait is Jess, John's daughter from a youthful relationship; her unexpected appearance could tip the fragile balance between them all. She is in her early twenties and has only spent time with the Ryries once before, on a vacation to the family cabin when she was in her early teens.

Will Jess's needs somehow breathe life into the disintegrating family? Will her presence somehow bring the family together? Or will her individual set of lies and secrets cast the final stone on the funeral pyre that seemingly defines the family group?

This story was beautifully crafted and the characterizations were rich and multilayered, lending an authenticity to the drama as it played out, showing the reader that families are often comprised of individuals living parallel existences until something or someone helps shift the balance to bring about a kind of catharsis.

I recommend this story for anyone who wants to understand the nature of grief, and its effect on individuals and on the family. Four stars. I deducted a star for one missing ingredient: emotion. 1 Pam160 3

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I started reading this earlier this week and I almost emailed Trisha to say I couldn’t handle this, right now. I’m glad that I pushed on, though because, aside from the obvious hard topics (hello, it’s called The GRIEF of Others), the story is a fabulous one.

The hardest part for me was the axis of the story, centered on the loss of a couple’s child only fifty-seven hours after birth, just struck so close to my current fear and personal situation. The death of infants isn’t generally a topic handled well by those camping out in the NICU. The story is much deeper than that, though, thank goodness.

The story, it turns out, is to put it simply, an analysis of family life in times of peace and times of stress. It looks upon the way we all handle sorrow and joy and how we crack under the pressure of simple things, yet, carry on through the hardest things.

The book is one of those great epic things that shows life through the rotating perspectives, sort of a village-to-raise-a-story thing. All of the characters are endearing, though at times I wanted to shake some of them. That, the shaking bit, is one of the things that work for the story as the players are so very real and it’s easy to see yourself in the position of making the same mistakes.

Though this was a hard topic to explore for me, right now, I think it may have done me a world of good since it offered several thoughts on how to handle hard situations. I’ll be interested in reading this in a few years to see if it hits me the same way when I am outside of the current setting. Over all a very good read, even if you yourself, are going through a hard period.
1 Candice1,479

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