What do you think?
Rate this book
Niekde ku koncu
Memoárová próza Niekde ku koncu britskej spisovateľky a editorky Diany Athill (1917 - 2019) práve vyšla v Knižnej edícii ASPEKT. Autorka ju napísala ako 89-ročná a pod názvom Somewhere towards the End vyšla v roku 2008 ako v poradí jej piata spomienková kniha.
O starobe – vlastnej i svojich blízkych – píše s ľahkosťou, no bez zľahčovania. „Keď sa začnete zaoberať starobou, narazíte na to, že sa nechcete nechať deprimovať a kaziť náladu ešte aj iným, a tak sa snažíte zameriavať skôr na príjemnejšie stránky života.“
Athill sa vyrovnáva s vlastným životom bez pátosu, ľútosti, sentimentu, triezvo, s humorom, vecne, ale nie sucho. Priznáva zlyhania, spomína na inšpiratívne vzory, vysmieva sa z nafúkanosti kultúrnych ikon svojej doby, spomína na lásky, partnerské, sexuálne vzťahy, priateľstvá, rodinné putá a napriek veku, v ktorom knihu napísala, sa so životom nelúči, iba prehadzuje pomyslenú rýchlosť. Skúma možnosti bežného života, radosti i smútky, záťaže i to, čo v starobe človeka oslobodzuje. Rekapituluje temné i svetlé stránky mladosti, stredného veku i staroby. Prechádza cestu, po ktorej ideme všetci, osvetľuje ju, komentuje, nechvastá sa aktívnym starnutím, priznáva bolesti, chátranie tela a so všetkým, čo ju zaťažuje, sa vyrovnáva nekonvenčne a smelo. Láska, sklamanie, choroba, smrť, náboženská viera či neviera, vzťahy, rodičovstvo, sex, starostlivosť videné z jej uhla pohľadu sú nové a zároveň dôverne známe.
Aj kniha o starobe môže byť osviežujúca, triezva, múdra, nie mudrlantská. Athill má zmysel pre humor, je Britka, dožila sa 101 rokov a je úplne cool.
Knihu z angličtiny preložila Jana Juráňová, redakčne spolupracovala Jana Cviková, Zuzana Maďarová a o grafickú stránku sa postarala Jana Sapáková.
O starobe – vlastnej i svojich blízkych – píše s ľahkosťou, no bez zľahčovania. „Keď sa začnete zaoberať starobou, narazíte na to, že sa nechcete nechať deprimovať a kaziť náladu ešte aj iným, a tak sa snažíte zameriavať skôr na príjemnejšie stránky života.“
Athill sa vyrovnáva s vlastným životom bez pátosu, ľútosti, sentimentu, triezvo, s humorom, vecne, ale nie sucho. Priznáva zlyhania, spomína na inšpiratívne vzory, vysmieva sa z nafúkanosti kultúrnych ikon svojej doby, spomína na lásky, partnerské, sexuálne vzťahy, priateľstvá, rodinné putá a napriek veku, v ktorom knihu napísala, sa so životom nelúči, iba prehadzuje pomyslenú rýchlosť. Skúma možnosti bežného života, radosti i smútky, záťaže i to, čo v starobe človeka oslobodzuje. Rekapituluje temné i svetlé stránky mladosti, stredného veku i staroby. Prechádza cestu, po ktorej ideme všetci, osvetľuje ju, komentuje, nechvastá sa aktívnym starnutím, priznáva bolesti, chátranie tela a so všetkým, čo ju zaťažuje, sa vyrovnáva nekonvenčne a smelo. Láska, sklamanie, choroba, smrť, náboženská viera či neviera, vzťahy, rodičovstvo, sex, starostlivosť videné z jej uhla pohľadu sú nové a zároveň dôverne známe.
Aj kniha o starobe môže byť osviežujúca, triezva, múdra, nie mudrlantská. Athill má zmysel pre humor, je Britka, dožila sa 101 rokov a je úplne cool.
Knihu z angličtiny preložila Jana Juráňová, redakčne spolupracovala Jana Cviková, Zuzana Maďarová a o grafickú stránku sa postarala Jana Sapáková.
212 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2008
About the author
Diana Athill
33 books200 followersDiana Athill was a British literary editor, novelist and memoirist who worked with some of the greatest writers of the 20th century at the London-based publishing company André Deutsch Ltd.
She was born in Norfolk in 1917 and educated at home until she was fourteen. She read English at Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford and graduated in 1939. She spent the war years working at the BBC Overseas Service in the News Information Department. After the war she met André Deutsch and fell into publishing. She worked as an editor, first at Allan Wingate and then at André Deutsch, until her retirement at the age of 75 in 1993.
Her books include An Unavoidable Delay, a collection of short stories published in 1962 and two 'documentary' books After A Funeral and Make Believe. Stet is a memoir of Diana Athill's fifty-year career in publishing. Granta has also reissued a memoir Instead of a Letter and her only novel Don't Look at Me Like That. She lived in Primrose Hill in London.
She was born in Norfolk in 1917 and educated at home until she was fourteen. She read English at Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford and graduated in 1939. She spent the war years working at the BBC Overseas Service in the News Information Department. After the war she met André Deutsch and fell into publishing. She worked as an editor, first at Allan Wingate and then at André Deutsch, until her retirement at the age of 75 in 1993.
Her books include An Unavoidable Delay, a collection of short stories published in 1962 and two 'documentary' books After A Funeral and Make Believe. Stet is a memoir of Diana Athill's fifty-year career in publishing. Granta has also reissued a memoir Instead of a Letter and her only novel Don't Look at Me Like That. She lived in Primrose Hill in London.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 503 reviews
May 12, 2019
I enjoyed a television documentary I saw about Athill recently. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye when she gave answers. I'd never heard of her and the documentary seemed to suggest this was a major shortcoming in my reading life. She was Jean Rhys' editor and then, late in life, took up writing herself. I can see why she made a good editor but I'd describe her prose as hygienic - too much detergent applied and too much scrubbing. It was a struggle for me to reach the end because I found much of this memoir incredibly dull and, occasionally, even annoying. I was left baffled why she merited a BBC documentary. I can think of dozens of much more important British authors the BBC ignores.
Now and again she comes up with a decent quote - "Sex obliterates the individuality of young women more often than it does that of young men, because so much more of a woman than a man is used by sex." (Though that "obliterates" is a poor choice of words; I'd replace it with muddies or even muddles.)
But more often we get banal platitudes - "I am not sure that digging in our past guilts is a useful occupation for the very old, given that one can do so little about them. I have reached a stage at which one hopes to be forgiven for concentrating on how to get through the present."
I'm sorry but this has to go down as a waste of my time.
Now and again she comes up with a decent quote - "Sex obliterates the individuality of young women more often than it does that of young men, because so much more of a woman than a man is used by sex." (Though that "obliterates" is a poor choice of words; I'd replace it with muddies or even muddles.)
But more often we get banal platitudes - "I am not sure that digging in our past guilts is a useful occupation for the very old, given that one can do so little about them. I have reached a stage at which one hopes to be forgiven for concentrating on how to get through the present."
I'm sorry but this has to go down as a waste of my time.
May 6, 2015
Diana Athill, a top British editor, wrote this short reflection on life and how it might end for her when she was 89. The writing is stunning, every sentence is perfectly-crafted and thoughful. Short as it is, however, its not short enough: the brilliance of the writing is not enough to overcome the tedium of the subject illuminated only occasionally by the witty recounting of stories and unusual characters. I don't often feel disappointed in myself if I didn't enjoy the book, but here I feel there is something in me that is lacking, that I should be able to appreciate this beautifully-written and poetic memoir more. But I didn't.
Edit I came across this piece by Diana Athill, now 96, written in 2010 when she made a decision to move into an Old Age Home. It is as beautifully-written as the memoir and I enjoyed reading it much more. So I've upped the rating to 3.5 stars from 2. And I wish her many more years of enjoying life.
Originally reviewed 14 April 2009
Edit I came across this piece by Diana Athill, now 96, written in 2010 when she made a decision to move into an Old Age Home. It is as beautifully-written as the memoir and I enjoyed reading it much more. So I've upped the rating to 3.5 stars from 2. And I wish her many more years of enjoying life.
Originally reviewed 14 April 2009
May 20, 2015
It took me a bit of courage to approach this book, in the same way it is taking me a bit of courage to approach old age. It’s so much easier to switch off and act as if it isn’t going to happen. But I am sixty-one, and whilst I feel middle-aged, I am also aware that old age is somewhere round the corner. It’s getting a bit too close for comfort.
I needn’t have worried. This is the most amazing book for anyone who is on the path towards old age to read. What an intelligent, original and insightful glimpse into the troughs and triumphs of Ms Athill’s later life (she was eighty-nine when she wrote the book, in 2008.)
Nothing could be further from a self-help, or “gosh I identified with that” read. Ms Athill is very much her own person. Sex, love affairs, friendships, atheism, sickness, death, gardening, reading and writing… She writes about all of these things with a coolness and clarity that is a joy to read. There is hardly a shadow of self-pity in the book, just a wonderful capacity for observation.
She’s a book person through and through, voraciously reading, sporadically writing - and she helped André Deutsch establish his publishing company in 1952, where she was an editor until aged seventy-five. Her coterie of authors included Philip Roth, Norman Mailer, John Updike, Simone de Beauvoir, Jean Rhys, and V. S. Naipaul. She also wrote reviews for The Literary Review. I think writing emerges as her greatest source of pleasure....more than anything else that has given her satisfaction during her life....and the wonderful thing is that it continues to be a pleasure.
Here follow a few extracts from the book, just for my own records:
Ms Athill said she started to experience old age when she was seventy-one. So, okay, I’ve ten or so more years to go. Not only has this book given me marvellous insights into what I might experience in old age, but perhaps more importantly, it has given me insights into what other people are experiencing. In all sorts of ways - what a valuable book.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Radio 4, Desert Island Discs with Diana Athill (2004):
http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/features/...
I needn’t have worried. This is the most amazing book for anyone who is on the path towards old age to read. What an intelligent, original and insightful glimpse into the troughs and triumphs of Ms Athill’s later life (she was eighty-nine when she wrote the book, in 2008.)
Nothing could be further from a self-help, or “gosh I identified with that” read. Ms Athill is very much her own person. Sex, love affairs, friendships, atheism, sickness, death, gardening, reading and writing… She writes about all of these things with a coolness and clarity that is a joy to read. There is hardly a shadow of self-pity in the book, just a wonderful capacity for observation.
She’s a book person through and through, voraciously reading, sporadically writing - and she helped André Deutsch establish his publishing company in 1952, where she was an editor until aged seventy-five. Her coterie of authors included Philip Roth, Norman Mailer, John Updike, Simone de Beauvoir, Jean Rhys, and V. S. Naipaul. She also wrote reviews for The Literary Review. I think writing emerges as her greatest source of pleasure....more than anything else that has given her satisfaction during her life....and the wonderful thing is that it continues to be a pleasure.
Here follow a few extracts from the book, just for my own records:
Ms Athill said she started to experience old age when she was seventy-one. So, okay, I’ve ten or so more years to go. Not only has this book given me marvellous insights into what I might experience in old age, but perhaps more importantly, it has given me insights into what other people are experiencing. In all sorts of ways - what a valuable book.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Radio 4, Desert Island Discs with Diana Athill (2004):
http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/features/...
February 2, 2020
I didn’t know who Diana Athill was until I picked up this book. She was a British novelist, memoirist and editor at the London-based publishing house Andre Deutsch Ltd. As editor she worked with renown writers of the 20th century-- Jean Rhys and V.S. Naipaul, to name but two. She was born in 1917 and died in 2019 at the ripe old age of one hundred and one. This book was written when she was a month or so shy of eighty-nine! She writes of her views on sex, death and ageing. More specifically, how one should live life when death is no longer a mere speck on the far horizon.
Given her age and her writing ability, I was curious, and so I picked up the book. While I do not agree with all that she says, portions hit home for me. In any case, the book gave me food for thought and I enjoyed getting a peep into her way of thinking. I am glad to have read the book.
Athill starts the book off by talking about sex and that women can be physically attracted to more than one man, at the same time. This she says is fine as long as no one is hurt. I wonder, how you do that. She claims she is without jealousy. Fine, but jealousy is a common attribute felt by many. She says, as long as you keep the side relationship hidden, no one will be hurt. I say, nothing is ever kept hidden, and living a lie is no way to live. So here, I started off disagreeing dramatically. To each their own…. I went on.
Death is the next topic. Athill’s view and mine coincide. It is not death that worries one, that scares one. It is the prolonged suffering that often precedes death, that is frightening. The suffering may be long, or it may be short. How it will be for yourself is as predictable as the flip of a coin, by that I mean unpredictable. In that there is no escaping what lies ahead, in that you cannot predict how you will die and have little control over your end, don’t worry yourself about it. That is the conclusion she has drawn and I have too.
Leaving that topic behind, Athill quickly moves on to what a person can do something about. How, when elderly, can one get the most out of life before death grabs you? Here she speaks of what works for her.
One must do things. She involved herself more and more in gardening, in sewing, in pottery, in panting, in writing. Sign yourself up for classes, she advises. Stay social. (Here I protested a bit, not being social myself.) Continue to expand your horizons, learn something, seek out activities that bring pleasure. Suck up from life all that you can, because you still have it!
Athill comes with ideas, suggestions that have worked for her. In this sense the book is autobiographical. She points out what she sees as the primary value of painting--it opens your eyes to the world around you. Painting and drawing teach a person to see. Gardening she loves-- watching things grow, breathing fresh air, digging in the earth, and getting dirty heals body and soul.
Naturally, she applauds books. She names four which hold a very special place for her. They are these:
*Pandaemonium, 1660-1886: The Coming of the Machine as Seen by Contemporary Observers by Humphrey Jennings
*Josiah Wedgwood: Entrepreneur To The Enlightenment by Brian Dolan
*Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, Vol 1 and Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, Vol 2
*Nature's Engraver: A Life of Thomas Bewick by Jenny Uglow
She speaks of her shift in interest from fiction to non-fiction. I have observed such a shift myself. It is fun comparing what she says about books and authors one has read. Many are classics most of us have read, Elizabeth Gaskell being one example. She speaks of writing and how words flow naturally when you fall into its rhythm. She speaks briefly of her own books. She is not long winded. Brevity is an attribute she praises. She dislikes vanity and values humility.
What is delivered is by no means a comprehensive autobiography, but you do get a feel for Athill as a person. She is honest. She speaks of her shortcomings—a coldness that lies at her center and a tendency to be lazy. She sees no point in getting stuck on regrets. The more I think about the book, the more I realize the extent to which she has revealed who she is. It is this, what she has told us of herself, that I appreciate most, not her advice on ageing. What works for one may not work for another. Joining classes and being social are not everybody’s cup of tea, but life must have a purpose and a meaning. However, I believe, this is not knowledge that can be learned from a book; it is earned from life itself.
Oh gosh, my review is getting way too long, but I still have an important thing left to say. I like how Athill expresses herself. She has a flair for writing. I will close with two quotes:
“’A person who is just about to die is still fully alive and still fully her- or himself,’ I remember thinking as I sat by my mother (soon to die), ‘but she can’t be dying because she is still so entirely here’……… The difference between being and non-being is both so abrupt and so vast that it remains shocking even though it happens to every living thing that is, was or ever will be.”
At the beginning of the book Diana buys a tree fern. She knows full well that she will not live to see it become a grown tree.
In the postscript she closes with these words:
“I was right in thinking that I will never see it being a tree, but I underestimated the pleasure of watching it being a fern. It was worth buying."
An apt closing to the book!
The book is thin. We are given a smattering of Athill’s views. I doubt that any one person will agree with all that she says. This doesn’t matter. She is honest, and she expresses herself well. Learning who she is is worthwhile.
The audiobook has a short introduction spoken by the author. Claire Bloom reads the book itself. This choice was perfect. I appreciate hearing Athill’s voice, but having the book read by a narrator skilled at her trade is best. Bloom reads extremely well--clearly, at a good pace and in an elderly woman’s voice. Four stars for the narration, I highly recommend the audiobook version.
***********************
*Somewhere Towards the End 3 stars
*Letters to a Friend TBR
*Stet: A Memoir TBR
Given her age and her writing ability, I was curious, and so I picked up the book. While I do not agree with all that she says, portions hit home for me. In any case, the book gave me food for thought and I enjoyed getting a peep into her way of thinking. I am glad to have read the book.
Athill starts the book off by talking about sex and that women can be physically attracted to more than one man, at the same time. This she says is fine as long as no one is hurt. I wonder, how you do that. She claims she is without jealousy. Fine, but jealousy is a common attribute felt by many. She says, as long as you keep the side relationship hidden, no one will be hurt. I say, nothing is ever kept hidden, and living a lie is no way to live. So here, I started off disagreeing dramatically. To each their own…. I went on.
Death is the next topic. Athill’s view and mine coincide. It is not death that worries one, that scares one. It is the prolonged suffering that often precedes death, that is frightening. The suffering may be long, or it may be short. How it will be for yourself is as predictable as the flip of a coin, by that I mean unpredictable. In that there is no escaping what lies ahead, in that you cannot predict how you will die and have little control over your end, don’t worry yourself about it. That is the conclusion she has drawn and I have too.
Leaving that topic behind, Athill quickly moves on to what a person can do something about. How, when elderly, can one get the most out of life before death grabs you? Here she speaks of what works for her.
One must do things. She involved herself more and more in gardening, in sewing, in pottery, in panting, in writing. Sign yourself up for classes, she advises. Stay social. (Here I protested a bit, not being social myself.) Continue to expand your horizons, learn something, seek out activities that bring pleasure. Suck up from life all that you can, because you still have it!
Athill comes with ideas, suggestions that have worked for her. In this sense the book is autobiographical. She points out what she sees as the primary value of painting--it opens your eyes to the world around you. Painting and drawing teach a person to see. Gardening she loves-- watching things grow, breathing fresh air, digging in the earth, and getting dirty heals body and soul.
Naturally, she applauds books. She names four which hold a very special place for her. They are these:
*Pandaemonium, 1660-1886: The Coming of the Machine as Seen by Contemporary Observers by Humphrey Jennings
*Josiah Wedgwood: Entrepreneur To The Enlightenment by Brian Dolan
*Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, Vol 1 and Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, Vol 2
*Nature's Engraver: A Life of Thomas Bewick by Jenny Uglow
She speaks of her shift in interest from fiction to non-fiction. I have observed such a shift myself. It is fun comparing what she says about books and authors one has read. Many are classics most of us have read, Elizabeth Gaskell being one example. She speaks of writing and how words flow naturally when you fall into its rhythm. She speaks briefly of her own books. She is not long winded. Brevity is an attribute she praises. She dislikes vanity and values humility.
What is delivered is by no means a comprehensive autobiography, but you do get a feel for Athill as a person. She is honest. She speaks of her shortcomings—a coldness that lies at her center and a tendency to be lazy. She sees no point in getting stuck on regrets. The more I think about the book, the more I realize the extent to which she has revealed who she is. It is this, what she has told us of herself, that I appreciate most, not her advice on ageing. What works for one may not work for another. Joining classes and being social are not everybody’s cup of tea, but life must have a purpose and a meaning. However, I believe, this is not knowledge that can be learned from a book; it is earned from life itself.
Oh gosh, my review is getting way too long, but I still have an important thing left to say. I like how Athill expresses herself. She has a flair for writing. I will close with two quotes:
“’A person who is just about to die is still fully alive and still fully her- or himself,’ I remember thinking as I sat by my mother (soon to die), ‘but she can’t be dying because she is still so entirely here’……… The difference between being and non-being is both so abrupt and so vast that it remains shocking even though it happens to every living thing that is, was or ever will be.”
At the beginning of the book Diana buys a tree fern. She knows full well that she will not live to see it become a grown tree.
In the postscript she closes with these words:
“I was right in thinking that I will never see it being a tree, but I underestimated the pleasure of watching it being a fern. It was worth buying."
An apt closing to the book!
The book is thin. We are given a smattering of Athill’s views. I doubt that any one person will agree with all that she says. This doesn’t matter. She is honest, and she expresses herself well. Learning who she is is worthwhile.
The audiobook has a short introduction spoken by the author. Claire Bloom reads the book itself. This choice was perfect. I appreciate hearing Athill’s voice, but having the book read by a narrator skilled at her trade is best. Bloom reads extremely well--clearly, at a good pace and in an elderly woman’s voice. Four stars for the narration, I highly recommend the audiobook version.
***********************
*Somewhere Towards the End 3 stars
*Letters to a Friend TBR
*Stet: A Memoir TBR
April 15, 2016
This wonderful memoir of old age is delightful from the first sentences onwards (pugs always help):
Athill (who is still alive and writing at age 96) led an eventful professional and personal life: she was an editor for publisher André Deutsch for 50 years, worked with V.S. Naipaul and Jean Rhys – accounts of whom she has written in a previous work of memoir, Stet: An Editor's Life – and seems to have had many lovers, often married men, often (surprisingly – at least not what I expected from a posh white woman born in 1917) black men.
Her tales of life in her sixties through nineties are perfectly pitched; she is never sorry for herself, never the know-it-all schoolmarm showing off her wisdom. She focuses on the quiet, gentle pleasures of her older life – painting, gardening, reading and writing – and speaks wistfully but not bitterly about the fading of former pleasures (chiefly sex, but also novel reading) and the things that become more difficult, such as driving and caring for an ailing parent and partner. She has only mild regrets: being selfish and cold; being too lazy or too much of a coward to have pursued some major life change.
Athill is unsentimental about the importance of any individual life: larger than we think, because of all the people we affect; but also smaller than we hope, given the immensity of the cosmos. She is honest and unflinching about life in all its stages and peculiarities, not just senescence. Thank goodness she returned to writing as an octogenarian. I’ve since read six more of her autobiographical works (I reviewed Letters to a Friend here) and two of her slight but elegant works of fiction. I look forward immensely to more of her wise, thoughtful and economical prose.
Near the park which my bedroom overlooks there came to stay a family which owned a pack of pugs, five or six of them, active little dogs, none of them overweight as pugs so often are. I saw them recently on their morning walk, and they caused me a pang. I have always wanted a pug and now I can’t have one, because buying a puppy when you are too old to take it for walks is unfair.
Athill (who is still alive and writing at age 96) led an eventful professional and personal life: she was an editor for publisher André Deutsch for 50 years, worked with V.S. Naipaul and Jean Rhys – accounts of whom she has written in a previous work of memoir, Stet: An Editor's Life – and seems to have had many lovers, often married men, often (surprisingly – at least not what I expected from a posh white woman born in 1917) black men.
Her tales of life in her sixties through nineties are perfectly pitched; she is never sorry for herself, never the know-it-all schoolmarm showing off her wisdom. She focuses on the quiet, gentle pleasures of her older life – painting, gardening, reading and writing – and speaks wistfully but not bitterly about the fading of former pleasures (chiefly sex, but also novel reading) and the things that become more difficult, such as driving and caring for an ailing parent and partner. She has only mild regrets: being selfish and cold; being too lazy or too much of a coward to have pursued some major life change.
Athill is unsentimental about the importance of any individual life: larger than we think, because of all the people we affect; but also smaller than we hope, given the immensity of the cosmos. She is honest and unflinching about life in all its stages and peculiarities, not just senescence. Thank goodness she returned to writing as an octogenarian. I’ve since read six more of her autobiographical works (I reviewed Letters to a Friend here) and two of her slight but elegant works of fiction. I look forward immensely to more of her wise, thoughtful and economical prose.
January 6, 2022
PEARL RULED (p35)
While I grant you that Editor Athill did amazing work in a long, fascinating career, I find that I'm not hugely compelled to follow her in her slow trudge to the grave.
I do want to finish the read one day but I rather stalled out at 25%:
Somehow that just...summed it up. Need I go on, reading her ringing changes on this central theme she's developed so very thoroughly?
But she does make her points in lovely, precise, needlepointable words.
While I grant you that Editor Athill did amazing work in a long, fascinating career, I find that I'm not hugely compelled to follow her in her slow trudge to the grave.
I do want to finish the read one day but I rather stalled out at 25%:
Surely the part of life which is within our range, the mere fact of life, is mysterious and exciting enough in itself? And surely the urgent practical necessity of trying to order it so that its cruelties are minimized and its beauties are allowed their fullest possibly play is compelling enough without being seen as a duty laid on us by a god?
Somehow that just...summed it up. Need I go on, reading her ringing changes on this central theme she's developed so very thoroughly?
But she does make her points in lovely, precise, needlepointable words.
November 2, 2014
I have sort of been aware of this book for a while when it was published it was quite widely marketed and as she is a fascinating women lucky and privileged enough to work in the publishing in what must have been its glory days, I put it on my reading list. It came to the forefront as watching family and friends approaching the end of life, I wanted to know what that must feel like and I thought this book might help.
In this book Diana Athill very honestly describes what it means to be in your last years of life, the good points but also the not so good points. She seems not to be afraid of death, but talks eloquently about her fear of the physical side of dying, which she does seem to worry about, although she seems to cope with well. She talks about priorities changing, what used to be important not being so very much important. She explains about her regrets of it not being possible or sensible to embark on, but also the opportunity to do things, like writing, which before self-consciousness, lack of time or fear of the opinions of others, might have held you back. I found this really interesting to read.
However, this short book is about more than the above. She also tells of important events and relationships in her life, which shaped not only her life so far, but also the rest of her life. Whilst I have real issues especially to her attitude about adultery, this is so well written that you can see her point. The best chapters for me where towards the end of the book when she talks about her discovery of herself as a writer (after having been an editor for more than 50 years) and the relief and joy this brings her and her impressive insight and honesty about how her fortunate background and upbringing as well as her birth into a well-educated and quite wealthy upper-middle class English family has shaped her life. I have never heard anybody be so honest about this topic.
I will now certainly try and read her other books and she is a fascinating woman and I hope that there is more to come from this amazing woman.
In this book Diana Athill very honestly describes what it means to be in your last years of life, the good points but also the not so good points. She seems not to be afraid of death, but talks eloquently about her fear of the physical side of dying, which she does seem to worry about, although she seems to cope with well. She talks about priorities changing, what used to be important not being so very much important. She explains about her regrets of it not being possible or sensible to embark on, but also the opportunity to do things, like writing, which before self-consciousness, lack of time or fear of the opinions of others, might have held you back. I found this really interesting to read.
However, this short book is about more than the above. She also tells of important events and relationships in her life, which shaped not only her life so far, but also the rest of her life. Whilst I have real issues especially to her attitude about adultery, this is so well written that you can see her point. The best chapters for me where towards the end of the book when she talks about her discovery of herself as a writer (after having been an editor for more than 50 years) and the relief and joy this brings her and her impressive insight and honesty about how her fortunate background and upbringing as well as her birth into a well-educated and quite wealthy upper-middle class English family has shaped her life. I have never heard anybody be so honest about this topic.
I will now certainly try and read her other books and she is a fascinating woman and I hope that there is more to come from this amazing woman.
March 4, 2009
Sometimes a book comes along that so perfectly fits your concept of life as it is and as it will be that you feel you must talk about it -- and that you must convince all your friends to read it. This is such a book.
At age 89, Diana Athill has written a moving and thoughtful memoir on what it means to grow old as an atheist and as a single woman. Athill writes beautifully, with no frills or fancies, and she has an honest approach to the end that we all face.
At age 89, Diana Athill has written a moving and thoughtful memoir on what it means to grow old as an atheist and as a single woman. Athill writes beautifully, with no frills or fancies, and she has an honest approach to the end that we all face.
November 30, 2008
This is an extraordinary book about aging and flourishing in your later years. Athill, now 91, was once a top-flight editor in England working with writers like Naipaul and Jean Rhys. She has written several memoirs, each more brilliant than the last. She is truly an editor's writer, in that she gets more done in half a sentence than the rest of us can manage in a paragraph. This particular memoir, which was heavily praised in England, is a finalist for the Costa Prize (formerly the Whitbread Aw...more This is an extraordinary book about aging and flourishing in your later years. Athill, now 91, was once a top-flight editor in England working with writers like Naipaul and Jean Rhys. She has written several memoirs, each more brilliant than the last. She is truly an editor's writer, in that she gets more done in half a sentence than the rest of us can manage in a paragraph. This particular memoir, which was heavily praised in England, is a finalist for the Costa Prize (formerly the Whitbread Award) in the UK. Highly recommended.
October 25, 2020
K tejto knihe som sa vracala ako k niecomu vzacnemu, co si bude vyzadovat absolutnu pozornost, donuti ma spomalit. Athill pise o starobe a z pohladu starej zeny, ale prekvapivo otvorene a ne-monotematicky. Nieco pre seba som si nasla na kazdych par strankach. Bolo mi velmi sympaticke, ze Athill nepise ako renomovana redaktorka renomovaneho vydavatelstva, ktora spolupracovala s tolkymi vynimocnymi ludmi (top 3: Simone de Beauvoir, Jean Rhys, Margaret Atwood), ale ako uplne obycajna zena, ktora rozmysla o svojom zivote a svojich rozhodnutiach a akceptuje ich ako svoje. Pise o vyrovnavani sa so starnutim, zaoberama sa praktickymi otazkami ako kto ju doopatruje (nejako sa to vyriesi) a ci si bude moct dovolit lepsiu zdravotnu starostlivost (nie), hovori o tom, ako ona doopatrovala inych svojich blizkych - vola to 'povinnost, ktora vyrastla z lasky', pise o svojich vztahoch, o erotike aj o momente, ked prestala existovat ako 'sexualna bytost', o bezdetnosti, o vernosti, o viere a ateizme, a o smrti.
"V osemdesiatke sa uz nic take stat nemoze, ziadna udalost uz zasadnym sposobom moju sebauctu neovplyvni, a to je zvlastne oslobodzujuce. Myslim, ze je to istym sposobom aj strata, cosi ako koniec uchvatnych moznosti, ale zaroven mozete mat radost takym tym nekomplikovanym sposobom. Mozete si jednoducho uzivat zabavu."
"Sympatie, ktore mladi ludia vzbudzuju, su skvele a je zaujimave pozorovat ich zivoty. Uz len samotnou existenciou vytvaraju zaujimavu polaritu k tomu, co je v zivote stareho cloveka neprijemne. Zvykneme si namyslat, ze vsetko sa zhorsuje jednoducho preto, ze v ramci nasich prirodzenych moznosti je vsetko horsie."
"V osemdesiatke sa uz nic take stat nemoze, ziadna udalost uz zasadnym sposobom moju sebauctu neovplyvni, a to je zvlastne oslobodzujuce. Myslim, ze je to istym sposobom aj strata, cosi ako koniec uchvatnych moznosti, ale zaroven mozete mat radost takym tym nekomplikovanym sposobom. Mozete si jednoducho uzivat zabavu."
"Sympatie, ktore mladi ludia vzbudzuju, su skvele a je zaujimave pozorovat ich zivoty. Uz len samotnou existenciou vytvaraju zaujimavu polaritu k tomu, co je v zivote stareho cloveka neprijemne. Zvykneme si namyslat, ze vsetko sa zhorsuje jednoducho preto, ze v ramci nasich prirodzenych moznosti je vsetko horsie."
March 2, 2009
I think I let my expectations get in the way of truly enjoying this book. I had read some very positive reviews praising the frankness and honesty of Athill's description of her declining years.
I found the book's so-called frankness to be somewhat boring. It seemed to always come back to her sexual experiences.
Her description of her declining faculties depressed me. Maybe because my own are declining and I'd rather not read about other people's struggles with sore feet, etc. I've got my own sore knees to worry about.
The book jumped around a lot but perhaps that's the way of memoirs. I haven't read that many of them. Nevertheless, I did miss having transitions from one topic to another and being able to see an over-riding theme other than just one person's experience of aging.
It also occurs to me that maybe the experience of the aging process for men and women is essentially different and I just didn't "get" it. Either that or I am just making excuses for not particularly liking a book that others did like.
I found the book's so-called frankness to be somewhat boring. It seemed to always come back to her sexual experiences.
Her description of her declining faculties depressed me. Maybe because my own are declining and I'd rather not read about other people's struggles with sore feet, etc. I've got my own sore knees to worry about.
The book jumped around a lot but perhaps that's the way of memoirs. I haven't read that many of them. Nevertheless, I did miss having transitions from one topic to another and being able to see an over-riding theme other than just one person's experience of aging.
It also occurs to me that maybe the experience of the aging process for men and women is essentially different and I just didn't "get" it. Either that or I am just making excuses for not particularly liking a book that others did like.
September 22, 2022
A pithy memoir about coming near the end of a long life. Inevitably sad in some ways, but refreshing in others.
September 30, 2019
Keď raz budem starnúť, verím, že s takou gráciou, ako o tom s láskavým humorom a múdrosťou píše Diana Athill, ktorá vydala svoju prvú knihu Niekde na konci sveta v 89tich rokoch. Zomrela vo veku 101 tento rok. Zamýšľa sa nad témami akými sú náboženstvo, vzťahy rodinné i intímne, starmutie i jeho "výhody a nevýhody," literatúra, dôležitosť tvorivosti v živote, sebadôvera a mnohé iné.
"Výzor je pre staré ženy dôležitý nie preto, že by sme chceli zapôsobiť na iných, ale pre to, čo uvidíme pri pohľade do zrkadla...Ako sa človek vidí, sa nemusí kryť s tým, aký naozaj je, ale to prvé k tomu druhému do veľkej miery prispieva. Celkom určite viem, že sa cítim mladšie, a aj sa tak správam, než sa cítili a správali moje staré mamykeď boli staré."
"Na tému mladosti sa písali knihy rad za radom a ešte viac ich vzniklo o plodení a podrobnostiach s ním súvisiacich, ale na tému telesného úpadku toho veľa nie je. Keďže som v tomto procese už celkom pokročila a obtrela si oň nos práve vďaka tým mopslíkom a stromovitému papradiu, povedala som si :"Prečo sa do toho nepustiť?" A tak idem na to. "
"Výzor je pre staré ženy dôležitý nie preto, že by sme chceli zapôsobiť na iných, ale pre to, čo uvidíme pri pohľade do zrkadla...Ako sa človek vidí, sa nemusí kryť s tým, aký naozaj je, ale to prvé k tomu druhému do veľkej miery prispieva. Celkom určite viem, že sa cítim mladšie, a aj sa tak správam, než sa cítili a správali moje staré mamykeď boli staré."
"Na tému mladosti sa písali knihy rad za radom a ešte viac ich vzniklo o plodení a podrobnostiach s ním súvisiacich, ale na tému telesného úpadku toho veľa nie je. Keďže som v tomto procese už celkom pokročila a obtrela si oň nos práve vďaka tým mopslíkom a stromovitému papradiu, povedala som si :"Prečo sa do toho nepustiť?" A tak idem na to. "
November 10, 2011
Somewhere towards the end is a touching and intelligent memoir, by a woman still highly astute well into her nineties. Diana Athill writes about what many older people really think about. She remembers old lovers, some from not that long ago, discusses religion, death and how it felt to become a writer unexpectedly. This is a lovely, readable memoir, it is never depressing, melancholic or self-pitying. Diana Athill comes across as the sort of older woman I would want to be in many ways - eminently sensible, without any dullness whatsoever. This is a beautifully honest work, touching and intelligent.
March 15, 2020
Kniha, po ktorej budete dufat, ze v starobe budete mat tolko rozumu a nadhladu, ako autorka. Hoci z toho citit, ze to bolo napisane "lebo o com sa uz len da pisat, ked mate 89", je to kniha hodna precitania a znovuprecitania aspon kazdych 10 rokov, aby clovek smeroval presne k takejto sebavedomej starobe.
August 18, 2021
Somewhere Towards the End by Diana Athill is an elegant memoir by one of England’s most famous book editors. Athill was an editor for several decades at Andre Deutsch, Ltd, a London-based publishing company. She worked with famous authors and began writing her own work late in life. She was eighty-nine years old when she wrote this memoir. She died in 2019 at the age of 101.
Athill shares her thoughts about aging, death, and dying. She reflects on the changes in outlook, priorities, and opinions she experienced throughout the decades. She is intelligent, articulate, unflinchingly honest, charming, calm, and self-possessed. The force of her presence carries the memoir. No subject is off limits. She writes about her sex life, former lovers, preference for black males, atheism, gardening, reading, miscarriage, friendships, illness, and declining capacities. All are shared with the same degree of clarity and detachment. There is no hint of self-pity or emotional upheaval in her writing. Her sentences are elegantly phrased. She peppers her writing with the occasional lucid insight on aging and dying, nuggets of wisdom that whet the appetite for more of the same.
One of the pleasures she discovers about herself in her old age is the joy she finds in writing. She sees writing as a form of therapy, as a way of grappling with past hurts and failures. But she doesn’t wallow on feelings of guilt or shame, which she considers a waste of time. She embraces life as an adventure and perceives death as an event so ordinary that it is hardly worth making a fuss about. But her fearless attitude toward death does not extend to the process of dying. She expresses concern about burdening others with her incapacities after witnessing the care friends and family required during the final stages of their lives.
A book about aging by an octogenarian who is very conscious of time’s winged chariot drawing near may sound like fodder for depression. But Diana Athill is far from depressing. She embraces the good and the bad, the ups and the downs life has to offer with equanimity and good cheer.
Recommended.
My book reviews are also available at www.tamaraaghajaffar.com
Athill shares her thoughts about aging, death, and dying. She reflects on the changes in outlook, priorities, and opinions she experienced throughout the decades. She is intelligent, articulate, unflinchingly honest, charming, calm, and self-possessed. The force of her presence carries the memoir. No subject is off limits. She writes about her sex life, former lovers, preference for black males, atheism, gardening, reading, miscarriage, friendships, illness, and declining capacities. All are shared with the same degree of clarity and detachment. There is no hint of self-pity or emotional upheaval in her writing. Her sentences are elegantly phrased. She peppers her writing with the occasional lucid insight on aging and dying, nuggets of wisdom that whet the appetite for more of the same.
One of the pleasures she discovers about herself in her old age is the joy she finds in writing. She sees writing as a form of therapy, as a way of grappling with past hurts and failures. But she doesn’t wallow on feelings of guilt or shame, which she considers a waste of time. She embraces life as an adventure and perceives death as an event so ordinary that it is hardly worth making a fuss about. But her fearless attitude toward death does not extend to the process of dying. She expresses concern about burdening others with her incapacities after witnessing the care friends and family required during the final stages of their lives.
A book about aging by an octogenarian who is very conscious of time’s winged chariot drawing near may sound like fodder for depression. But Diana Athill is far from depressing. She embraces the good and the bad, the ups and the downs life has to offer with equanimity and good cheer.
Recommended.
My book reviews are also available at www.tamaraaghajaffar.com
June 12, 2011
I think I really should read more books by women. When they are written by fully-realized individuals such as Diana Athill, they round out the Mephistophelean male impulse with a certain je ne sais quoi. (For the time being, it must remain so because, being irreparably a male, I am inhibited from expressing the full range of human emotions.)
As I lifted the book off the shelf at the Santa Monica Public Library, I thought, "This looks like an interesting book about living at an advanced age." What I did not realize at the time was that it was far more than that: It was an interesting book about living, period.
What Athill and I share is that we both have lived most of our lives around books -- she as a professional editor who helped bring the works of V. S. Naipaul and Jean Rhys to publication -- and I as a rank amateur. In the course of Somewhere Towards the End: A Memoir, Athill talks about the books that have meant the most to her, and how she has gone from being a reader of novels to being a reader of non-fiction:
I suppose that death will cast a shadow only if you refuse to shine light on it.
As I lifted the book off the shelf at the Santa Monica Public Library, I thought, "This looks like an interesting book about living at an advanced age." What I did not realize at the time was that it was far more than that: It was an interesting book about living, period.
What Athill and I share is that we both have lived most of our lives around books -- she as a professional editor who helped bring the works of V. S. Naipaul and Jean Rhys to publication -- and I as a rank amateur. In the course of Somewhere Towards the End: A Memoir, Athill talks about the books that have meant the most to her, and how she has gone from being a reader of novels to being a reader of non-fiction:
I have gone off novels. When I was young I read almost nothing else, and all through my fifty years of working as a publisher fiction was my principal interest, so that nothing thrilled me more than the first work of a gifted novelist. Of course, there are many novels which I remember with gratitude -- and some with awe -- and there are still some which I admire and enjoy; but over and over again, these days, even when I acknowledge that something is well written, or amusing, or clever, I start asking myself before I have gone very far into it, 'Do I want to go on with this?', and the answer is 'No'.Expecting to find something relatively somber -- after all, I am advancing to the austere shores of old age myself, I found something fascinating and life-affirming.
I suppose that death will cast a shadow only if you refuse to shine light on it.
January 21, 2021
"Knihu o starobe netreba nutne končiť nariekaním, ale nemožno ju ukončiť salvami. Žiadne lekcie, z ktorých by sa dalo poučiť, žiadne riešenia, ktoré by som mohla ponúknuť. Ocitla som sa tu bez ničoho, akurát s niekoľkými náhodnými myšlienkami."
Diana Athill vystihla ešte aj svoju knihu, a to sa mi na nej páči. Nenašla som v nej veľké životné pravdy, ani podrobný opis jedného života, ale krásne triezve zamyslenia, výbornú sebareflexiu a sympatickú sebakritiku, ale najmä zmier.
Asi by som viacerí chceli starnúť s takouto noblesou, ale znamená to, že s ňou treba začať žiť už teraz. Vytvárať si zvyky, ktoré nás pozitívne ukotvia. Svoje chvíľky, ktoré si naplníme radostnými činnosťami. Zachovať si ľahkosť, humor a zvedavosť bádať vo veciach, kde sa nám chce a kde to to pre nás funguje.
"Keď ponorím ruky do zeme, keď roztiahnem korienky rastliny, aby mala v zemi priestor, vykonávam činnosť, ktorá ma absolútne pohlcuje, rovnako ako maľovanie alebo písanie, takže sa premieňam na to, čo robím, a som nádherne oslobodená od svojho ja."
Knihu som mala doma vyše roka a siahla som po nej až teraz aj preto, že tak spravila sama od seba moja mama. Čerstvá šesťdesiatnička, ktorá sa stará aj o 96 ročnú svokru. Mnohé z knihy pre ňu bolo tak silno aktuálne a ja som rada, že som sa aj takto mohla na ňu napojiť.
Mám v pláne sa k slovám Diany Athill vrátiť po rokoch, hoc aj niekoľkokrát.
Je dobré si ich pripomínať.
Diana Athill vystihla ešte aj svoju knihu, a to sa mi na nej páči. Nenašla som v nej veľké životné pravdy, ani podrobný opis jedného života, ale krásne triezve zamyslenia, výbornú sebareflexiu a sympatickú sebakritiku, ale najmä zmier.
Asi by som viacerí chceli starnúť s takouto noblesou, ale znamená to, že s ňou treba začať žiť už teraz. Vytvárať si zvyky, ktoré nás pozitívne ukotvia. Svoje chvíľky, ktoré si naplníme radostnými činnosťami. Zachovať si ľahkosť, humor a zvedavosť bádať vo veciach, kde sa nám chce a kde to to pre nás funguje.
"Keď ponorím ruky do zeme, keď roztiahnem korienky rastliny, aby mala v zemi priestor, vykonávam činnosť, ktorá ma absolútne pohlcuje, rovnako ako maľovanie alebo písanie, takže sa premieňam na to, čo robím, a som nádherne oslobodená od svojho ja."
Knihu som mala doma vyše roka a siahla som po nej až teraz aj preto, že tak spravila sama od seba moja mama. Čerstvá šesťdesiatnička, ktorá sa stará aj o 96 ročnú svokru. Mnohé z knihy pre ňu bolo tak silno aktuálne a ja som rada, že som sa aj takto mohla na ňu napojiť.
Mám v pláne sa k slovám Diany Athill vrátiť po rokoch, hoc aj niekoľkokrát.
Je dobré si ich pripomínať.
June 10, 2009
I didn't finish this book. Once again all I needed to read and wanted to read was in the NYT Book Review. I was hoping for a take on how elderly people feel when their lives begin to disappear. This woman, who was ninety when she wrote the book, had written a passage about how it felt to give up driving. It was very moving. So I thought she would be all insight to understanding this transition.
As it turns out all she wanted to do was tell you about her younger life, how many men she had slept with, sex now(?) and how she doesn't believe in 'god'. The not believing in'god' went on way too long and it was very off-putting since I really couldn't understand what she was saying to justify her stand. I kept reading the same sentence over and over to try to see if the words had meaning. Oh well.
She was an editor of books and I think she bought into her own intellectualism and vanity that she was someone special. She had superior knowledge over people like us that could live in a fantasy world where there was more to life than nothing.
As it turns out all she wanted to do was tell you about her younger life, how many men she had slept with, sex now(?) and how she doesn't believe in 'god'. The not believing in'god' went on way too long and it was very off-putting since I really couldn't understand what she was saying to justify her stand. I kept reading the same sentence over and over to try to see if the words had meaning. Oh well.
She was an editor of books and I think she bought into her own intellectualism and vanity that she was someone special. She had superior knowledge over people like us that could live in a fantasy world where there was more to life than nothing.
November 10, 2010
In this very slender end-of-life memoir Athill, a former esteemed editor with publishing house Andre Deutsch, reflects on aging and death, good deaths and bad, physical infirmities, her lack of husband or children (she was always the Other Woman), her lovers, sex life and end thereof, elderly driving mishaps, and why at age 89 she no longer reads fiction. (A feature I've noticed in other senior citizens too. Perhaps they're onto something.) She is a good writer, whose writing is put to better use and better anecdotes in her other memoir (or maybe there are three?), Stet. One might read this in conjunction with other works on infirmity and impending death, such as Nothing to Be Frightened Of and Everyman. Or one might not.
December 22, 2017
A memoir should be told as the teller chooses, and I certainly got the sense that Athill told her story in her own way. For an attempt at authenticity, I'd give it two stars.
However, I did not personally enjoy this memoir nor would recommend it to colleagues and friends. I found the writing style to be surprisingly pedestrian (given that she was an editor and that this book won the Costa Award), and the writer herself to be pretentious and grating, especially in her frequent application of the word "bore" -- to everyone but herself, that is.
Of course, I also disliked the memoir Eat, Pray, Love (Elizabeth Gilbert) which was immensely popular with many readers. If you enjoyed this title, you may enjoy Athill's.
However, I did not personally enjoy this memoir nor would recommend it to colleagues and friends. I found the writing style to be surprisingly pedestrian (given that she was an editor and that this book won the Costa Award), and the writer herself to be pretentious and grating, especially in her frequent application of the word "bore" -- to everyone but herself, that is.
Of course, I also disliked the memoir Eat, Pray, Love (Elizabeth Gilbert) which was immensely popular with many readers. If you enjoyed this title, you may enjoy Athill's.
November 26, 2018
While at first glance it may be easily dismissed because a reader may wonder what it could possibly have to offer, I was enthralled. It was beautifully written and profound in its simplicity. A book to read and re-read every several years. I sat in silence for a few moments after finishing it to continue to ponder the words of this 80+ year old author. It's a 4 1/2 stars to me!
June 16, 2020
A beautifully written memoire by an outstanding author whom I admire. She has a beautiful way of expressing her thoughts almost poetic, yet I couldn't get into the story it was almost too tedious for me.
February 8, 2010
Do you ever wonder what really old people think about death? As baby-boomers age, it will become increasingly interesting to have a variety of perspectives on death. Not the kind presented by people whose lives are suddenly cut tragically short by a terminal illness, but a memoir from a really articulate person about facing the end of one's life with grace. This book is just the ticket. The author was born in 1917, and she is just delightful. She is a retired book editor living in London with her aging "boyfriend" and she waxes philosophical on many subjects, and at the same time gives practical advice without sounding like a character or a pompous teacher.
She talks about the joy of driving and the reluctance of giving it up, because, as she describes it: driving is the great equalizer. When every part of your body aches and it is hard to walk, you get in your car, and you can travel at the same speed as others and arrive where you want to go despite your body's restrictions. She recommends interactions with young people, but says, ". . .but I am convinced that one should never, never expect them to want one's company, or make the kind of claims on them that one makes on a friend of one's own age. Enjoy whatever they are generous enough to offer, and leave it at that."
She delights in children but doesn't regret never having any of her own. She is not religious, so has no expectation of another life. Both of those aspects of her life give credence to her ability to look back and forward with and interesting sort of integrity because there is no crutch to lean on at the end. The life she led was enough, and as she said about an uncle of hers: "What filled him as death approached was not fear of whatever physical battering he would have to endure. . .but grief at having to say goodbye to what he could never have enough of."
She talks about the joy of driving and the reluctance of giving it up, because, as she describes it: driving is the great equalizer. When every part of your body aches and it is hard to walk, you get in your car, and you can travel at the same speed as others and arrive where you want to go despite your body's restrictions. She recommends interactions with young people, but says, ". . .but I am convinced that one should never, never expect them to want one's company, or make the kind of claims on them that one makes on a friend of one's own age. Enjoy whatever they are generous enough to offer, and leave it at that."
She delights in children but doesn't regret never having any of her own. She is not religious, so has no expectation of another life. Both of those aspects of her life give credence to her ability to look back and forward with and interesting sort of integrity because there is no crutch to lean on at the end. The life she led was enough, and as she said about an uncle of hers: "What filled him as death approached was not fear of whatever physical battering he would have to endure. . .but grief at having to say goodbye to what he could never have enough of."
November 30, 2008
Athill, perhaps the British book publishing industry's most famous editor (thanks in part to her earlier memoirs) reflects on her imminent death, freely admitting she has "no lessons to be learnt, no discoveries to be made, no solutions to offer." And no apologies, either: She writes unflinchingly about how her relationship with her longtime companion began during his previous marriage, and how they had already stopped having sex by the time he left his wife and moved in with her--and that's why she had no problem inviting his next lover to move in with them. But that was long ago, and now Athill must deal with his declining health, an obligation she accepts despite its many frustrations.
Let's put it this way: Tuesdays with Morrie, this is not. But Athill's elegant, no-nonsense tone will have its admirers.
Let's put it this way: Tuesdays with Morrie, this is not. But Athill's elegant, no-nonsense tone will have its admirers.
February 5, 2009
Somewhere Towards the End isn't the first book to describe in detail the process of "falling away," the author's apt euphemism for the decline one experiences in old age. Critics compare Athill's memoir to John Bayley's Elegy for Iris and Nora Ephron's I Feel Bad About My Neck, or the fiction of Philip Roth, Alice Munro, and John Updike. But Athill writes with a nothing-to-lose attitude that brings dignity to a process so often marked by the inevitable slowing of the mind and the deterioration of the body. This is a remarkable memoir, not the least for its honest approach to the end of life. "There are no lessons to be learned, no discoveries to be made, no solutions to offer," Athill writes with
Read
September 7, 2020Reading a memoir written by someone who was pretty much waiting to die may seem like a big 2020s mood, but what surprised me was how much of this is uplifting, albeit inevitably often with bittersweet notes. Hell, she was inspired to start writing it by seeing a fleet of pugs pottering around the park opposite*, and the general wonder of dogs provides the book's initial momentum. Thereafter, it's pretty much the accumulated wisdom on ageing and what comes next of someone almost exactly my gran's age, and not dissimilar in background, but even less likely to hold back (although, dare I say it, perhaps ever so slightly less confrontational a personality). So you get things like her being charmingly proud of a young woman she knows, in the course of a story about how said young woman was breastfed to age 3 and was the daughter of someone with whom Athill had lived in a menage a trois. Which, embarrassing as it may be for that individual if her mates ever read this, at a time when we could all do with a hug and being told it will all be alright from someone older and wiser, is welcome reading for the rest of us. I mean, I still don't for a second believe that it will all be alright, but even in book form rather than via a personal chat, one can't help feeling a little warmed by the attempt. Though one does find oneself envying the relatives she talks about who never knew their time had come, one dropping dead as he made a cup of tea, another in mid-laugh. I mean, nobody from here on in gets that, do they? Though equally, there's the sadness her brother felt the last time she saw him: "What filled him as death approached was not fear of whatever physical battering he would have to endure (in fact there was not, at the end, any of that), but grief at having to say goodbye to what he could never have enough of." Well, there's already precious little left for us to feel we're going to miss out on, and there'll be less still every year, so at least that's one worry fewer, eh? That's the worst of it, though – her best advice, and something I've alway found helpful in the past, is to remember that even as individual lives are shrinking and ending, others are beginning and growing. Which doesn't really work anymore when the planet is dying and the young have little chance of jobs and less still of fun, never mind starting lives of their own. Somewhere towards the end of Somewhere Towards The End, Athill talks about the role luck, much more than any abstract virtue, plays in bearing up, listing external factors which can have a huge impact, "such as a virus, or climate, or war, or economic recession". Not a bad prediction, all told, except for the use of 'or' instead of 'and'. Despite the valedictory tone throughout, she lived another 12 years after writing this, finally checking out, aged 101, last year. Excellent timing.
*Also by ferns, granted, but not in a Lonely Guy way.
*Also by ferns, granted, but not in a Lonely Guy way.
February 28, 2022
Diana Athill lived to be 101 years of age. She published this book at age ninety, ninety-one. An editor for a long time, she writes here and writes convincingly of her life, not only her old age but her younger life as well: her loves and losses, her miscarriage near menopause, her decision very early on that she doesn’t much care for children (though she mourns the child she loses, demonstrating a complexity of her own character). Somewhere towards the end of this thin tome, Athill states,
Athill’s longevity may, in part, be due to an active life, one in which she continues to learn how to do new things—not well or professionally, perhaps—but something novel nonetheless. One among many lessons we all might learn from her as we all slouch toward that same ending.
So an individual life is interesting enough to merit examination, and my own is the only one I really know (as Jean Rhys, faced with this same worry, always used to say), and if it is to be examined, it should be examined as honestly as is possible within the examiner’s inevitable limitations. To do it otherwise is pointless—and also makes very boring reading, as witness many autobiographies by celebrities of one sort or another” (181).
Athill’s longevity may, in part, be due to an active life, one in which she continues to learn how to do new things—not well or professionally, perhaps—but something novel nonetheless. One among many lessons we all might learn from her as we all slouch toward that same ending.
March 29, 2020
Beautifully written. The author wrote this when she was 80 - wow. Athill reflects on what she’s had to give up as she’s grown older. Her musings are neither dreadful nor overly optimistic. Realistic. She’s found a lot to be grateful for as she ages (I googled her and she lived to be 101) and even was continuing to find new interests as she approached her 90s. I was a little aghast at her morals - I mean, didn’t she realize she was hurting marriages with her flippant views on sleeping with married men? But other than that, there were thoughts that took my breath away and the prose was gorgeous. If you read this book pay attention to the beginning where she contemplates buying a fern tree because the postscript will leave you with chills.
June 12, 2023
Well. This is one I can’t completely recommend as I didn’t find it particularly enlightening, it did tend to plod along, and I couldn’t quite find Athill as likable as I thought I would. That being said, I don’t have the rude candor to call her a “windbag” or completely hate on the book. I mean, she was 89 I believe when she wrote this, I feel she’s allowed to drone on a bit. She’s earned it. Though I hoped for more writing on her book career and life; that disappointment is mine in my expectation as she never made the claim that was what this book is about. So I took it as it was and it’s a decent read. Not particularly life changing for me but I’m still glad to have read it.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 503 reviews