Getting to the Heart of Grief

Cherish the moment you find your favorite book because that moment doesn’t come often. I fell in love with The Sleepwalker’s Guide to Dancing with the very first chapter. Is it the compelling story? Is it the misplaced onlys, itselfs, and ones that make me want to hear Indians talking around me? Is it the exploration of family dysfunction, and difficult family relationships? Is it the idea of found family? Is it the exploration of grief and loss? Is it the exploration of being uprooted from your home to be transported to another place? It’s all of it.

The Sleepwalker’s Guide to Dancing is the story of the Eapen Family. Amina Eapen, a wedding photographer, flies home to New Mexico, when her mother, Kamala, tells her that her father, Thomas, is sitting on the porch talking to dead relatives. While trying to figure out what’s happening with Thomas we see their journey, from being new immigrants, to bringing up their children as Americans, identity crises, and dealing with loss and grief.

The book is layered with themes and issues that are not the easiest to explore. Grief is often abstract and difficult to put into words, but Jacob does it with care. Jacob handles the heavy themes with care and comfort, making what could have easily been a devastating read, optimistic. I was left with a feeling of hope and catharsis by the end of the book.

The characters were well developed, their ideas and thoughts communicated with ease and understanding. Jacob doesn’t shy away from exploring the character’s emotions, messy and abstract as they are. The deftly handled view into their heads drew out my own emotions, making me more empathetic towards characters that I may not have related to.  I haven’t lived every character’s experience, but I could feel what they were feeling.

Jacob’s craft is also magnificent. The words roll lyrically into each other. Her description of scenes, her ability to place you in the exact moment, are what make me want to be a writer. The story itself was beautifully structured with flashbacks that informed the presented. It felt like I was reading one beautifully woven story rather than two stories side by side.  Maybe it was also the familiarity in the language, and the traditions, and the food that made me love this book. 

All in all, this layered book made me more emotional and introspective than many books have made me. It is a universal story with the Eapen family as a vessel to bring forward the complicated dynamics and emotions that families go through. I can’t express my admiration for Mira Jacob and her writing adequately.

But while you’re at it, read her wonderful speech about authors of color in the publishing world, and the universal effect of stories here. Also pick up her book Good Talk, a graphic memoir about American identity and interracial families.