Rom-coms/ meet-cutes aren’t my usual thing but I made an exception for Mikki Brammer’s The Collected Regrets of Clover because the main character, Clover, is a death doula – and grief-lit is my thing.
It’s a simple story – Clover, an introverted and socially-anxious woman, lives a life structured around her work, her pets, and visiting death cafes in New York City. Flashbacks provide context for her chosen profession – Clover’s parents died when she was a child, and she moved to the city to live with her grandfather.
Clover collects what she learns from people at their end-of-life in three notebooks – ‘…the first, REGRETS; the second, ADVICE; the third, CONFESSIONS…‘ Her notebooks also provide a ‘to-do’ list, as she tries to fulfill the ‘regrets’ of others (ranging from learning Nepalise to colouring her hair blue). But of course, when you are so busy living out other people’s regrets, you have no time left to follow your own desires. Clover’s relationships with a handful of people highlight the deficits in her approach, notably a lack of spontaneity and love.
There are some important messages in this book about end-of-life and bereavement, and I think Brammer explores them sensitively, if not obviously in some of the death cafe scenes. The complexity of emotions about end-of-life, especially the assumption that elderly people might feel they’ve ‘had a good life’ and therefore ‘happy’ to die, is explored in a number of scenes. An exchange between Clover and one of her elderly clients illustrates this –
“…I should be grateful for what I’ve had and should walk toward the end with grace.”
“Maybe,” I said, resisting the urge to placate. “But gratitude doesn’t necessarily free us from sadness – or our fears.”
The idea that grief does not ‘go away’ but instead, that we adjust around it, is also explored. There’s a quote in there about grief being ‘…like a bag that you always carry…‘, which reminds me of an illustration by Mari Andrew that I often share with my own clients.
At some points I questioned Clover’s lack of insight concerning her own unresolved grief but wondered if, because of my work in grief and bereavement, I am expecting too much (and taking away narrative opportunity!).
Lastly, regular readers of rom-coms will enjoy the sweet ending (I don’t need things tied in a bow but I understand that’s the genre).
I received my copy of The Collected Regrets of Clover from the publisher, Penguin General, via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.
3/5
Clover and her neighbour enjoy bourbon and lime cocktails over their game of mahjong.
I’m also not really a rom-om person but I do have an interest in end of life care/grief so you’ve encouraged me to give this a chance!
Rom-com not rom-om! I need to read my comments before posting 😀
One of my interests is the concept of life review that older adults often experience (not exactly an “end-of-life” experience, but related), so you’ve convinced me that I should read this novel despite my usual rom-com aversion.
Having assisted people with writing their biographies at end-of-life (as part of a palliative care program), there a few things that come up over again – relationships with friends and family, and holidays (or other ‘experiences’). I rarely heard people talk about work or the stuff they owned.
I’ve heard of this death doula idea before in some novel, but I can’t remember what it was…
BTW What do you make of the saturation coverage of the Bondi stabbing and the nationwide symbols of grieving that are happening? I heard the ABC yesterday interviewing a psychologist who said it was normal to be grieving in various contexts (#InsertList) and I was waiting for her to say that there would be some like me who are sorry that it happened but are not ‘grieving’, and she didn’t. It dawned on me that there was an expectation in the media that everyone all over Australia would be and we all need advice about looking after our mental health. Now I am, of course, sorry that it happened, and of course I feel sorry for the people affected, but I am not grieving.
This didn’t happen when that man mowed down people in the Bourke Street Mall, and that was awful too…
I have felt quite angry about the coverage on Bondi – it’s unnecessary to post pictures. And I don’t think it is grieving that people are feeling, I think it is trauma, hence the different impact for different people! (and hence why showing images over and over again is extremely damaging). I never use the word ‘triggered’ lightly, but events like Bondi will trigger some people to various extents. Interestingly, I had to go Doncaster Westfield on Monday. It was very quiet. When I went to pick up the thing I needed in Myer, the sales assistant was clearly very upset and then told me that she was scared something similar would happen to her. That’s not grief, that’s trauma!
Well, yes it is… but maybe it’s the saturation coverage that has made her think that an isolated incident is commonplace. I see the same thing happening in my neighbourhood Facebook group, people overreacting to the presence of strangers and posting video footage of them when they’re not doing anything wrong, people jumping at shadows when they hear a siren and so on. They think they are living in a hotbed of crime when actually we live in one of the safest suburbs in Melbourne. Somebody has posted what I see as reassuring stats for my suburb… to no avail. The catastrophising goes on.
I have lived through a well-founded fear of violence from a disturbed violent man. It lasted for a very long six months, so I know what it’s like to look over your shoulder and fear for your loved ones.
But random acts of violence are just that, random. That young sales assistant is probably more likely to live to her century than die prematurely, and if she did die young, she’d be more likely to die from an overdose of a party drug or a car ride with drunken friends than from an event like Bondi. It is so sad to see young people who should be enjoying a carefree youth feeling fear like this…
My daughter loved this book, so I’ve added it to my TBR. But I am old-ish and so Rom-coms irritate me usually. Now I’m worried I won’t love it and will let my daughter down.