When Breath Becomes Air (by Paul Kalanithi)

For maybe the first time this year, I decided to read something not for either the Tournament of Books or the Read Harder Challenge. When Breath Becomes Air is the posthumous memoir of Paul Kalanithi, a brilliant neurosurgeon diagnosed with cancer right before completing his residency, who spent his final months writing a meditation on the meaning of life and death. You can get a bit of a flavor of Kalanithi's writing by reading his essay for the New York Times, "How Long Have I Got Left?"

Kalanithi didn't live long enough to tie it all together in a neat bow -- he wrote part of the book when the cancer had already metastasized into his brain -- so the book reads as a bit unresolved. But maybe it's not possible to "resolve" the meaning of life, and of death, in the first place, and this is part of Kalanithi's point. His wife, also a doctor, contributes a deeply moving epilogue on his behalf that helps fill in the blanks of his last weeks.

This is a beautiful book. Kalanithi had a brilliance of mind and generosity of spirit that is undeniable. He grapples with big questions and doesn't provide you with answers -- just the space for you to grapple with them too. It's profoundly moving and profoundly profound. I can see why it's become a huge bestseller.  Unforgettable.