Constellations by Sinéad Gleeson

244 pages

Book club read

Blurb

I have come to think of all the metal in my body as artificial stars, glistening beneath the skin, a constellation of old and new metal. A map, a tracing of connections and a guide to looking at things from different angles.

How do you tell the story of life that is no one thing? How do you tell the story of a life in a body, as it goes through sickness, health, motherhood? And how do you tell that story when you are not just a woman but a woman in Ireland? In these powerful and daring essays, Sinéad Gleeson does that very thing. In doing so she delves into a range of subjects: art, illness, ghosts, grief, and our very ways of seeing. In writing that is in tradition of some of our finest writers such as Olivia Laing, Maggie O'Farrell, and Maggie Nelson, and yet still in her own spirited, warm voice, Gleeson takes us on a journey that is both personal and yet universal in its resonance.

Review

…and then there are those times when I feel totally unprepared and even less equipped to write a ‘worthy’ review. Never mind that I’ve been sharing my thoughts about the books I read for at least fifteen years. Maybe fiction is easier because it gives you a linear story to follow, but I think that’s not really the issue here.

For starters, Constellations and Sinéad Gleeson are in a league of their own when it comes to language—beautiful language, fluent language, descriptive language, emotive language, efficient language… I could go on, but you get my  drift. Every single word on these 244 pages has a purpose, and most of them left me in awe. The book as a whole left me in no doubt that my ‘second language’ English is just not up to the task of doing Constellations justice.

But it’s more than that. I recognised so very much in this book, despite the fact that my background couldn’t be more different from the authors. My (medical) history doesn’t compare to Gleeson’s but many of her thoughts and feelings about dealing with a chronic condition and its life-long consequences struck home. But despite all the ‘oh yes, me too’ moments, there were at least as many where my reaction was the almost exact opposite of what I found on the page.

I’m not sure I have ever taken as long to read 244-page book. Nor did I ever stick as many sticky notes between two covers or fill as many pages with quote after quote after quote. You’d think that those notes would make writing a review easier but most of those ‘highlighted’ paragraphs and quotes are strictly personal to me, food for thought that will keep me thinking for days, weeks, months to come and may even encourage me to write that book I’ve been thinking about for the past twenty-odd years. All of them are fascinating, while none are helpful when it comes to giving an objective overview of this breath-taking book.

January hasn’t quite ended yet, but I think that with Constellations I may have finished the best book I’m going to read this year. Thought-provoking, enlightening, and touching this deeply personal memoir resonated with me in a way other people’s experiences rarely do. I have no doubt others will go through the same process of recognition and reflection—about being female, about life and death, and about learning to live with a chronic medical condition—I experienced and for that reason alone I’ll probably never stop talking about this book and recommending it to anyone who asks for my opinion.