This is a beautifully written and intensely felt book, but I found that it somewhat suffered in comparison to Jenny Diski's recent memoir [b:In Gratitude|29243745|In Gratitude|Jenny Diski|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1460910927s/29243745.jpg|49487659]. (Although the perspectives are different: Coutts is the caregiver to her husband; Diski wrote of her own cancer.) This is a matter of personal taste, and probably of personality as well; I sense that I am more like Diski than I am like Coutts, so of course her memoir resonated more than Coutts's did.

The Iceberg is maybe overly long, and overly repetitive in spots. I couldn't help but think Coutts needed an editor with a firmer hand; but I think that a lot. It is also a lovely tribute to Coutts's husband, and the last section is pretty much note-perfect. ( )

I seem to have read a lot of memoirs this year, and I must say this one is a bit different. Marion Coutts is an artist who was married to art critic and writer Tom Lubbock when he was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumor. This memoir is a chronicle of Tom's slow decline, death, and the aftermath for Marion. However, the focus is not on the physical facts, or medical details of his illness. In fact, it could be said that the focus is really not on Tom's illness, though there are occasional glimpses of the various treatments Tom undergoes. Rather for the most part, the focus is on Marion's state of mind--what is going on in her heart and soul as the Tom she knew and loves slowly disappears.

Marion writes in a very literary, stream of consciousness and surreal style. Some readers felt this memoir was self-absorbed. It was difficult to read, but I liked it.

Recommended

3 stars

(I recommend Tom Lubbock's art books if you are interested in art. He also wrote a memoir of his illness which I might read. It's called Until Further Notice I Am Alive ( )

I am glad I read this book. I can't really say I 'enjoyed' it - how can you enjoy a book about a man dying before his time? However, I appreciated it in many ways. I felt it to be realistic - not excessively sanitised to present the author or her child as angels, but more a 'warts and all' kind of memoir. As someone who has a cancer diagnosis himself, I also saw this book as a kind of self-help manual; a guide to the process of dying. It's prompted me to start looking for a good hospice around where I live and to start thinking about what I would want my last days/weeks/months to be like. I think that's good. ( )

Bleak and inspiring at the same time, Coutts's memoir gives me hope that when the worst happens, I will get through it. A romantic elegy, or a steely-eyed act of catharsis? Both? Totally honest. Honestly excellent. ( )