Authors writing about death

They said she had six months to a year to live.

Authors writing about death

Pinterest Elie Wiesel, the writer and Nobel Peace prize winner. They light candles, and start chanting in Spanish to banish the devil, and throw rice, which is surprisingly loud as it hits the floor.

The nurse comes in and screams at them for lighting candles in the hospital, especially around my oxygen. They blow out the candles, and the minute the nurse leaves, they light them again. They offer to banish the devil over me, and my mother lets them.

I write a story in the school literary magazine about a girl in the hospital, which ends with a voice calling to her: The line brings something back to me now.

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How death, this thing you are resisting, fighting, terrified of, suddenly turns and becomes seductive. Eventually I have a test where they put a tube down my throat and inject white dye into my lungs.

This is supposed to show the doctors whether the chronic infection is localised enough for them to operate. In the x-rays, it looks like there are snow-covered trees in my lungs.

The night before my surgery, the sound of bagpipes floats through the hospital hallways. The sound frightens me, it is so incongruous and beautiful and funereal.

My mother explains that the son of a policeman has cancer, and the police have sent a troupe of bagpipe players to play for him. The operation lasts seven hours. They remove half of one of my lungs.

Life Beside Death

In the recovery room, a tube in my throat, tubes draining my lungs through small holes between my ribs, a tube in my arm, I swim up from the anaesthetic and ask for my mother. She is not intimidated by the tubes and climbs into the bed with me, which cheers me up.

She brings me a red tin of madeleines that she has made. My best friend does not visit me in the hospital. She has decided to stop being friends with me. How does it feel to come so close to death you can breathe its atmosphere?

I want to come as close as I can When I come home, I am 60 pounds. I am too weak to open a door. My hair has fallen out in the front, so I have to cut it all off. You read about soldiers who have trouble coming back into civilian life. They are totally and completely wrapped up in the shocking time; they are constantly drawn back to it; they are in love with it the way you love someone who has hurt you: I go back to The Road from Home: The Story of an Armenian Girl.

Maurice Sendak sat with the people he loved as they were dying and drew them. To some, this might seem like a perverse or weird thing to do, but I understand it completely and intuitively. In fact, I am doing something like it myself.

I am writing about deaths. Not the deaths of people I loved but of writers and artists who are especially sensitive or attuned to death, who have worked through the problem of death in their art, in their letters, in their love affairs, in their dreams.

I chose writers who meant something to me, whose voices were already in my head, whose approach toward death was extreme in one direction or another:Abstract (summary): Fifty years ago, Roland Barthes declared the death of the author, setting the terms for a continuing critical conversation about authorship.

“Authorship’s Wake” unsettles the centrality of Barthes’s essay in the debate by introducing a new set of participants: the authors themselves. It’s a companion list to great novels by living authors and great graphic novels.

based on the date of the author’s death, so older works come first. Mary Shelley began writing. Great Authors Write About Death I recently read The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes, the novel that won the Booker Prize in The title is very appropriate.

authors writing about death

“People living deeply have no fear of death.” – Anaïs Nin, The Diary Of Anaïs Nin, Volume Two “Life was not a valuable gift, but death was. Apr 08,  · The Slow Death of the American Author.

By Scott Turow. Last October, I visited Moscow and met with a group of authors who described the . In a way, I was writing death masks.

I would not have bought the New York Post with the dead baby on the cover, but since it is lying on the table at .

great novels by dead authors – Blair Mahoney – Medium