Aos 36 anos, Paul Kalanithi foi diagnosticado com um câncer incurável. Neurocirurgião brilhante, de repente se viu diante de uma cruel inversão de papéis: num dia era o médico tratando de pacientes com problemas graves, no outro era o paciente lutando pela própria sobrevivência.
O último sopro de vida narra a trajetória de Paul ao longo do tratamento – a descoberta da doença, a esperança de uma possível remissão, a incerteza quanto ao futuro, a decisão de se tornar pai, a consciência do fim, a angústia de se despedir da vida antes da hora.
Sua narrativa é honesta, pungente. Mas, ao mesmo tempo, poética e delicada. Amante da literatura e da filosofia, Paul desde sempre buscou entender a relação entre a vida e a morte, a identidade e a consciência, a ética e a virtude. Seus questionamentos profundos encontram eco em nossas próprias reflexões: afinal, o que faz a vida …
Aos 36 anos, Paul Kalanithi foi diagnosticado com um câncer incurável. Neurocirurgião brilhante, de repente se viu diante de uma cruel inversão de papéis: num dia era o médico tratando de pacientes com problemas graves, no outro era o paciente lutando pela própria sobrevivência.
O último sopro de vida narra a trajetória de Paul ao longo do tratamento – a descoberta da doença, a esperança de uma possível remissão, a incerteza quanto ao futuro, a decisão de se tornar pai, a consciência do fim, a angústia de se despedir da vida antes da hora.
Sua narrativa é honesta, pungente. Mas, ao mesmo tempo, poética e delicada. Amante da literatura e da filosofia, Paul desde sempre buscou entender a relação entre a vida e a morte, a identidade e a consciência, a ética e a virtude. Seus questionamentos profundos encontram eco em nossas próprias reflexões: afinal, o que faz a vida valer a pena?
Paul morreu em março de 2015. Deixou como legado uma filha de oito meses e o manuscrito inacabado deste livro. Quem escreveu as páginas finais e encaminhou o texto para publicação foi sua esposa, Lucy, atendendo ao último desejo do marido.
Review of 'When Breath Becomes Air' on 'Goodreads'
5 stars
My first memoir and hopefully won’t be the last. Paul’s journey resonated strongly with me. His clear voice was accompanied by his sincere pursuit of meaning in this short wordly life. The book was poignant but lovely at the same time. Touched my heart throughout the entire read. Particularly the epilogue written by Paul’s wife Lucy. I would recommend this book for anyone who is searching meaning in their life.
Review of 'When Breath Becomes Air Exp' on 'Goodreads'
4 stars
This is how you know a book or a work of literature is powerful:
- Pick a book about a man who is diagnosed with cancer, a book that, you know, is by an author who dies. - Read the book only to become attached to the writer. Not only because he tells things, but the way he does tell them. Because he ponders about his work, about life and death, things that, maybe, you gave some thought before, or because the things he says are, well, fair. The fairness in the way a med doctor works, the kind of life they live; the kind of things they are responsible for: their patients, their wellness and the heavy burden of not affecting the lives of those around them. - Reach the last page and take a big breath. Consider the title of the book. Think about it. - Go to …
This is how you know a book or a work of literature is powerful:
- Pick a book about a man who is diagnosed with cancer, a book that, you know, is by an author who dies. - Read the book only to become attached to the writer. Not only because he tells things, but the way he does tell them. Because he ponders about his work, about life and death, things that, maybe, you gave some thought before, or because the things he says are, well, fair. The fairness in the way a med doctor works, the kind of life they live; the kind of things they are responsible for: their patients, their wellness and the heavy burden of not affecting the lives of those around them. - Reach the last page and take a big breath. Consider the title of the book. Think about it. - Go to the epilogue. Feel the profound sadness of a person who is dying (who knows is gonna die, who you know has died), the recount of his last few days. - Cry, maybe. It is optional.
It is a powerful essay about who we are, and why we do things. About our plans, our capabilities. About the lack of touch of those who get used to the dying, to the sick. And the thing that makes us strive for: it is, also, about love. Not romantic love, but the links between people.