tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916134868516639921.post6103218381820819969..comments2021-06-24T14:29:59.525-04:00Comments on Expendable Mudge Muses Aloud: THE IMPOSSIBLE RESURRECTION OF GRIEF, Dr. Cade's dystopian vision expanded without expoundingRichardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15481936090455797869noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916134868516639921.post-36998707648874416712021-05-15T11:04:46.064-04:002021-05-15T11:04:46.064-04:00Ha! Yes, both gobsmacking and queasy-making are ap...Ha! Yes, both gobsmacking and queasy-making are appropriate responses indeed. I hope you'll like the read as much as I have. Author Cade is a wordsmith with a line directly to my heart.Richardhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15481936090455797869noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916134868516639921.post-37849903257161052882021-05-15T08:27:13.029-04:002021-05-15T08:27:13.029-04:00All right, Mudge, your enthusiasm is compelling on...All right, Mudge, your enthusiasm is compelling on this one. I ordered this, but Amazon needs a week to get it to me on release. I'll catch up with you to talk about it then. I have had a fascination with grief and its works for decades, Helen MacDonald's "H Is For Hawk," which had an uncanny echo of Joan Didion's "Year of Magical Thinking" to me, to my naive but worthwhile grad student exploration of the Kindertotenlieder of Mahler that tried to interconnect the Rueckert texts, the music, and the classic stages of grief theory. <br /><br />The animal capable of perpetrating the current extinction is also the one capable of recognizing it and even mourning it -- but apparently not forestalling it. The existential gobsmack of it. Or the existential quease.Lynn Dionhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00597644666443995058noreply@blogger.com