Still Alice by
Lisa Genova is a novel written from the point of view of a 50-year-old woman
who is in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's. It is well written and gives
what I feel is an insightful look into the thought process as a mind is ravaged
by dementia. However, Alice is such an unlikeable person that I cannot have any
compassion for her. It's as if a robot's memory chip corrodes. Although, if
Alice were a more sympathetic character, perhaps the story would be too hard to
bear. I recommend the book, just don't expect to feel like shedding a tear over
Alice.
I'm biased, of course, by my own experiences. I lived with
my mother as she struggled with senile dementia. Unlike the rapid decline of
Alzheimer's, it was a long process spanning 20 years. Mom's experience was completely
unlike Alice's. Mom was surrounded by loved ones, had little awareness of what
was happening to her, and experienced very little fear. As the ability to deal
with the mundane world was taken away from her, Mom seemed to become a more authentic
human being.
The Alice of Still
Alice is a neuro [psychology professor] something or other, I find myself
not caring, at Harvard, and her husband is a scientist and professor at Harvard
who has to deal with lab research.
The story begins with Alice editing a peer-reviewed article.
She hears her husband racing around the house and she cannot concentrate. She
knows he has misplaced something and so sits back in her chair and waits for
the inevitable call. How helpful of your, Alice. He does call her because he
cannot find his glasses and he is late. Possibly. Alice's alarm clock shows
it's about 7:30 but she believes it to be about 10 minutes fast. The clock
downstairs by her husband indicates 8 AM. She strolls into the kitchen and
immediately spots the glasses and notes that it is only 6:52 according to the
microwave.
So two presumably intelligent people have no idea what time
it is nor how to set clocks, electronic or otherwise, to the correct time?
Rather than handing hubby the glasses, she stands there with
them in her hand until he notices her, and she manages to insert a snide
comment. She muses that she and her husband have not been close for quite a
long time -- she dashes around the country lecturing and he has irregular hours
caused by responsibilities such as checking lab experiments in the night.
The purpose, apparently, of both being employed by Harvard
had been so they could work closely together and "commute" by walking
together. In the beginning of their marriage, walking together arm in arm. Now
they are different schedules.
As the husband, who probably has a name, dashes off, he asks
Alice not to argue with their youngest daughter.
As for the peer reviewed article, she does not have time to
deal with it so merely stuffs it in an envelope and mails it off, implying, if
not lying, that she had reviewed it. So much for professionalism. Well, she had
to. She's a very busy Important Person, you know.
As the story unfolds, we learn that Alice and her husband
have three children, a doctor, a lawyer, and the baby of the family. The
"baby" was, Alice admits, ignored by her busy parents primarily
because she was smarter than her two older siblings were and thus needed no
guidance. This baby, now a young woman, chose to pursue acting rather than a
college degree. Alice refuses to accept the choice because the only reason one
could possibly decide not to go to college is to spite Alice and her husband
and rebel against their lifestyle.
Alice tends to be all over the place with advice. The
youngest daughter is warned that she is running out of time to make a proper
life for herself. The older daughter is told not to try to become pregnant with
her husband because, at 28, she has all the time in the world.
Alice is also an annoying lecturer. She loves it because no
matter how challenging the audiences are, she has never forgotten one fact, nor
groped for the proper word. She can recite the author, journal, and year of
countless articles in her field. Goody for her. Too bad she doesn't bother to
use that ability to, oh, I don't know,
review articles. I've never met such a person -- the more brilliant, the more
forgetful, in my world.
Then begin the symptoms of the memory loss to come: during a lecture, she forgets a word. And
never having had to deal with such a problem, she is ill equipped to handle it
now.
Her memory worsens, and she seems compelled to make poor
choices. As she cooks Christmas dinner with her family around her, calling her
for help, she decides to test her ability to remember words she has randomly
selected from the dictionary. Since she is rarely with her family, one might
think she would take the opportunity to enjoy them. But alas, it is not to be.
During a frantic moment in the kitchen, Alice cannot
remember one of her words -- and gracefully handles it by yelling at her loved
ones. Not confiding in them about her doctors' visits and her concerns -- just
snapping at them. Perhaps they are not loved ones at all.
Alice doesn't appear to have any sort of emotional life. Does
she realize that when Alzheimer's ravages her once brilliant mind, she will
have nothing?
