Amy Bloom (1) (1953–)

I put this book ony to-read list nearly ten years ago, I think. I liked it a lot. The people in it and the worldviews they have are--ones that my existence would be a disappointment to, that I could only exist on the periphery of. It was interesting to inhabit them, for a while.

I read this in 2008 and I think it was among the first dozen books I read about transness, simply because it was on the HQ shelf in the college library. I don't recall a thing about it and I'm sure it wasn't anything special, but I'll respect my past self giving it 4/5 since I have no plans to reread.

I was somewhat disappointed--too much of the plot seemed totally improbable. Yes, the characters were vivid. I suspect that knowing that the book had to do with 1940s Hollywood attracted me but the Hollywood part of the book is nugatory.

Amy Bloom has written an emotional and loving memoir about her husband's life with alzheimers and his subsequent death in Switzerland. Even though difficult (i.e. sad, which is an emotion that many of us can do without these days), I would recommend this book.