It Lasts Forever and Then It's Over

This book delivers a profoundly emotional experience, transforming grief into something beautiful, capturing the ache of loss and longing with such raw intimacy, but the novel radiates a quiet hope, reminding us of the resilience of love and memory even in the face of irreversible absence, the narrator’s journey, mirrors the universal human experience of mourning, making the story feel both personal and expansive, passages about missing a lover’s name or continuing forward despite decay, ultimately, the book leaves a lingering sense of wonder—like emerging from a dream that reshapes how you see the world, it doesn’t offer closure, but something more honest: a meditation on how love persists beyond endings.

“If you were here, you would tell me that you would have fallen in love with me no matter when we met. Even when I was a horse, you would say. Even now, you would say. Even now you would fall in love with me.”

This book is a beautiful exploration of grief. It took me a while to settle into the story but part 5 and the ending were both beautiful.

One of the most bizarre books I’ve ever read. I enjoyed the prose of this novel, and the overwhelming themes of grief, loss and longing are like a punch to the gut. It was hard to follow at times and I enjoyed the second half more than the first. Really, at its core it’s an ode to love, and really shows how no matter what, love prevails above all else every single time.

There were parts of the journey I have yet to be able to decipher, but overall I get the feelings and the intended vibe of the book. I’m a “what-if?” addict, so this book is somewhat for me.

I like this premise a lot, the possibilities for abstract meditations on grief are endless and I enjoyed very much how they were explored here. Following around a sentient zombie was really cool, and I was interested and curious about almost every character introduced in her journey. I also read this at the worst possible time in my own grief journey and had a really hard time getting through its hundred and something pages. Maybe I'll revisit it in the future when grief no longer feels like it's opening me up and feeding on my guts.