A Matter of Death and Life: Love, Loss and What Matters in the End (Language Acts and Worldmaking)

I have read many of Yalom’s books, both his novels and his accounts of the therapeutic encounters and philosophical understandings arising from these. I always learn something, both intellectually and on an embodied feeling level. This is because Yalom is authentic about his own experience, and identifies his own ‘agenda’ within the therapeutic session.And so it is here, in this most painful of personal accounts. Yalom, who has counselled many, wisely, as they deal with bereavement, whether facing their own death, or dealing with the death of someone most central in their lives is now himself, in that latter place, in this bookHis beloved wife, lover, companion, lifetime friend, mother of their children, received a terminal diagnosis of an aggressive cancer. No matter that she, and he, were both in their 80’s, and that he was only a couple of years shy of 90, the sundering of a life long love is still an excruciating place to beMarilyn, a humanities academic, a professional and a writer of repute in her own area, suggested with some insistence to Irvin, that this book was a joint venture they both needed to be engaged with, both for themselves, and for others facing this journeyThe first half of the book, with each of them responsible for their own chapters, deals with this journey of dying, for Marilyn, and, for Irvin, how this can be borne, this loss which is coming. The second half of the book is Irvin’s alone, after, how he walks through the time of loss. And indeed how walking through is not even what happens, how drowning is also the place of being.Marilyn, clearly a woman of extraordinary fortitude faces her own death with resolve and clarity. It is Irvin, very much a humanist psychotherapist, albeit one who can tenderly hold those whose belief is of spiritual survival, who struggles with denial. Denial that losing Marilyn will happen, denial that a life without her is possible, bearable, or of meaning.He is also blazingly honest about the fact that for all the years of counselling others, well, in this place, it is only now he fully understands, from within, this place of ultimate suffering.Each of us must make this journey. Our own, and the journey of loss of other. There may be signposts (as this book, and others, can offer) but in the end, each of us can only forge a personal path

This is a moving account of the process of losing your life partner - no holds barred. Yalom - as always - writes simply and elegantly, and in many cases movingly.So - why only three starts? Well, partly, I think to counter some of the hagiographic reviews left by others who seem to be Yalom ‘disciples’; and partly because this is just one in the ever-expanding canon of grief literature. Many, many people have written about the almost indescribably pain of losing their husband, wife, son, daughter, partner... and Yalom’s account is no better, or worse, than these. Joan Didion’s ‘Year of Magical Thinking’, Joyce Carol Oates’ ‘A Widow’s Story’, Juliet Rose field’s ‘A State of Disbelief’ - all cover very similar ground; each a unique and honest account of the agony of bereavement.Some of the reviews here seem to imply that Yalom breaks new ground in his account of grief. He does not. He simply describes his own unique experience - which is no more and no less valid than anyone else’s.Perhaps the take-away message from this book is: therapists are not immune from what their clients experience. No matter how familiar one is with the territory of grief, until one has experienced the loss of one’s closest love - one simply has no real idea of what the pain and anger and despair are truly like. Yalom makes frequent reference to a notion that ‘most bereaved people’ move on after one or two years. This, to me, seems a deeply unhelpful belief. There is, in fact, no time limit on grief; no point by which one ‘should’ be ‘over’ it. And any concept that there is may actually be counterproductive in the mourning process.So - uncharitable I may seem, but I merely wanted to signal that this book is an account of one man’s grief. And there are many such books. Each with their own and unique perspective - each with something to share - but none which can provide any immunity from the sharp, desperate pain of grief.

I’ve been a long time fan of Irvin. Over 20 years ago, I read Loves Executioner. I have read pretty much all of his books since. I feel like I have got to “know” him somewhat. I feel, through his writing, he has guided me to a really significant degree in my development as a therapist. I must also acknowledge my incredible supervisor, Paddy also.This book is really touching, full of humanity. I have been deeply saddened reading it. I must say I am not finished yet and feel reluctant in some ways to hear of Marilyn’s passing. To read Irvin recognising it was time to retire was so very poignant. Pg 98 was wonderful to read as it illuminated so much of Irvin’s grace and kindness as a therapist. I am reminded of his autobiography when he talks about engaging with one of his first clients from a relational frame or reference and had to present his summary to the psychoanalytic society. honest and kind.....another wonderful readThis book is a gift, a true treasure.

Bought this for my wife, she began reading it 4 days before her grandmother passed. It was a huge comfort to her. The end of the book speaks to the wounded healer and is exceptionally crafted by a gifted individual. I'm mindful of not wanting to share details and spoil others chance to enjoy every word.To Irvin Yalom, thank you for sharing so much of yourself, I hope you are well.

I am a huge fan of Yalom’s work, and have read all of his books. This one is extremely special, as it is so personal, vulnerable, and deeply moving. Highly recommended to any fans of Yalom (either Irvin, Marilyn or both!) , but also to people who may never have heard of Yalom but who wish to read an incredibly thoughtful and reflective study of grief and adjustment to life as widower.

Reading this book has resonated so strongly with my journey through grief. As irvin is starting to live at the end of his book, I said to my counsellor (only this week) I feel ready to live.