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A Widow's Story: A Memoir
A Widow's Story: A Memoir
A Widow's Story: A Memoir
Audiobook14 hours

A Widow's Story: A Memoir

Written by Joyce Carol Oates

Narrated by Ellen Parker

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

4/5

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About this audiobook

Unlike anything Joyce Carol Oates has written before, A Widow’s Story is the universally acclaimed author’s poignant, intimate memoir about the unexpected death of Raymond Smith, her husband of forty-six years, and its wrenching, surprising aftermath. A recent recipient of National Book Critics Circle Ivan Sandrof Lifetime Achievement Award, Oates, whose novels (Blonde, The Gravedigger’s Daughter, Little Bird of Heaven, etc.) rank among the very finest in contemporary American fiction, offers an achingly personal story of love and loss. A Widow’s Story is a literary memoir on a par with The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion and Calvin Trillin’s About Alice.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHarperAudio
Release dateFeb 15, 2011
ISBN9780062027412
Author

Joyce Carol Oates

Joyce Carol Oates, literary icon, is the author of more than 70 books, including the bestselling novels We Were the Mulvaneys and Blonde. Among her many honours are the PEN/Malamud Award for Excellence in Short Fiction and the National Book Award. Oates is the Roger S. Berlind Distinguished Professor of the Humanities at Princeton University, and has been a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters since 1978. Follow Joyce on @JoyceCarolOates

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Rating: 3.9714285714285715 out of 5 stars
4/5

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  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    From the first I have to admit to being a huge fan of Joyce Carol Oates. Her writing is just incredible and having read most of her 115 books, I could not resist this one.This memoir is a moving tribute to her beloved husband Ray, who died somewhat unexpectedly in February 2008. JCO, as she often refers to herself, has quite literally poured her heart out through her writing. She recounts her every feeling in short chapters from her "role" as an executrix of her late husband's will to the way their cats react to her when Ray does not come home from the hospital. It is interesting to note that she often refers to herself in the third person as "The Widow" and this gives her the opportunity to almost distance herself from what is happening to her. This is a very intimate portrait and JCO is brutally frank about her desire to commit suicide, her need to take anti-depressants and her anger at the way some of her friends, acquaintances and total strangers have treated her in her new role as "The Widow". The book is peppered with wonderful quotes and poetry which Ms Oates uses to further express her deep feelings.For all this, I never felt this memoir was depressing or self indulgent. It is an honest, frank depiction of one woman's plight on the death of her soul mate. I imagine it would be a great comfort to any recently bereaved wife or husband, if only to understand that the desperate feelings they are having are not unusual or abnormal.This book will stay with me for a long time and I feel I know a great deal more about one of my favourite authors. I wish her peace and courage for the future without her charming and clearly much admired late husband. This book was made available to me, prior to publication, for an honest review.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    Okay....this book reminded me so much of Joan Didion's "A Year of Magical Thinking", and I discovered the similarities in the first few pages of the book. The two are so similar in many ways..they are both authors, they were both married to authors, and they both wrote a book mourning the loss of their husband. The process of writing and publishing their book helped with their grief.

    I have never read Oates' fictions, so I have no idea what her writing style is. In Didion's book I found grief, but also strength, lots of selflessness, and persistence. In this book, I found grief, hysteria, helplessness, complaints (all about others, including her dead husband), lots self pity, and too many exclamation marks...
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    If you are a widow or someone else who has suffered a loss and are seeking comfort, run, run as fast as you can, away from this book. There is little, if any, comfort to be found here.Joyce Smith, known to most of us as Joyce Carol Oates, had been married to her husband for 47 years when he died after a short illness. She was, of course, devastated, and I truly am sorry for her sorrow. Still, I really didn't like this book.Initially, I was annoyed by all the unnecessary exclamation points and italics, but those are minor annoyances, ones I can easily overlook. What bothered me more was the combination of extreme self-pity, condescension, and arrogance.She includes italicized third-person guidelines as The Widow, almost a primer of widowhood. I think that her experiences are not every widow's experiences, and it is presumptuous to write as if they are; it is disconcerting to read.There is much too much detail. I really am not interested in every sleeping pill she took, every email she sent or received, every thought of suicide, the extreme minutiae of her life. She was battling depression, certainly understandable, but did she have to work so hard at dragging me into her depression?Concerned friends gave her endless support, but others sent her baskets of fruit, flowers and plants, things to express their sympathy, and she resented these as she dragged them to the garbage unopened. She resented well-meaning acquaintances who tried to express condolences when she didn't want to hear them. She resented people who didn't know the right thing to say so said the wrong thing, even though it seems very likely that she did the same thing before she became a widow.When meeting with friends who were divorced, who had been betrayed by their husbands, she writes: Where there is betrayal, there can be anger, rage. I am thinking with envy how much healthier, how much more exhilarating, such emotions would be, than the heavyheartedness of grief like a sodden overcoat the widow must wear.Excuse me? She presumes to feel that her pain is greater, and that there would be exhilaration if she had been betrayed rather than widowed?Not one person in this room would want to trade places with you: widow.And...Trying to cheer yourself up when the only significant fact of your life is, you are alone. You are a widow and you are alone....You are a failure, you are an unloved woman no longer young, you are worthless, you are trash. And you are ridiculous....At one point, JCO is thinking of having a T-shirt imprinted with:YES MY HUSBAND DIED,YES I AM VERY SAD,YES YOU ARE KIND TO OFFER CONDOLENCES,NOW CAN WE CHANGE THE SUBJECT?I wanted the subject changed long before the book ended. The book was not badly written but did not appeal to me; perhaps it will to other readers. Because of that and because I admire some of JCO's writing, I am giving it one star more than I would have otherwise.I was given an advance copy of this book by the publisher, and the quotes may have changed in the published edition.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Skimmed through this book. I felt, to the degree that skimming will allow, how the author lived through her husband's death and her acceptance of the immense change that ultimately came to her life.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A stunning tell-all from a very private person.  In this brutally honest memoir of grief, Joyce Carol Oates the author gives us the reactions and emotions of the months of anguish endured by Joyce Smith the wife of Raymond Smith, a renowned editor when he unexpectedly died of complications of pneumonia after a short stay in Princeton hospital in February 2008.Stunned into almost complete catatonia, she is unable to function as Joyce Smith. She cannot believe Ray has left her. She neglects her person, her house, her mail, her expected duties, and often almost forgets the cats. She becomes particularly distraught at the continual appearance of the "Harry and David condolence baskets" which she does not want, and has no idea how to dispose of. Nights, which are the hardest for her to endure, bring thoughts of suicide, but her mind is too numbed even to bring her to action to complete the act. She gathers all the medications previously dispensed to her husband and herself, counting up and listing different anti-depressants, sleeping pills, muscle relaxers, antihistamines, and other pain killers, trying to decide if she has enough to accomplish the task of putting herself out of her misery. Daytimes bring a trance like state that can still find fault and hurt in every well-meaninged remark by friends and strangers alike. She is unable to accept that people want to help. By day Joyce Carol Oates continues teaching at Princeton, refusing to believe that Ray is gone. By night, returning to an empty house, Joyce Smith cannot function, unable to open condolence notes, email, or answer the phone. Friends gently guide her through the funeral process. Gradually, she allows herself to consider continuing with life. By April, when Ray's garden begins to sprout with the bulbs he had planted the previous fall, she experiences the stirring of life, and to the accompaniment of her memories, begins to mend.The writing in this work is exquisite. The reader feels the pain, the desolation and the total emptiness Oates experienced during this traumatic period.  By speaking in the first person, she allows us to enter her isolation so we can experience the enervating emptiness she feels. She is constantly working at simply getting through each day, each chore, each next step. She intersperses her recollections with copies of notes, emails, and letters from and to  friends and acquaintances. Periodically she will shift to a recap in the third person, almost as if she wants to look over the widow's shoulder to produce a how-to (or how not to?) guide for widows. At one point, (pgs 40-41) she gives us a sentence almost two pages long....very similar to a Saramago train of thought. It was enormously effective to show us the complete disintegration of her thought processes as she tries and fails to come to terms with her husband's death.As she works her way through the grieving process she is able to look outside herself : "For the widow is a posthumous person passing among the living.  When the widow smiles, when the widow laughs, you see the glisten in the widow's eyes, utter madness, an actress desperate to play her role as others would wish her to play her role and only another widow, another woman who has recently lost her husband, can perceive the fraud." (pg. 332). I've been reading a lot of memoirs in the past two years.  This is not an uplifting book in the style of Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking, or Kate Braestrup's Here if You Need Me, but it is an affirming book, one that assures us that life can go on :"Of the widow's countless death-duties there is really just one that matters: on the first anniversary of her husband's death the widow should think I kept myself alive." (pg. 416.)
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Actress Lauren Bacall on being commiserated on the death of her husband Humphrey Bogart is quoted as saying, “All love stories end as tragedies.”And surely most of those who love deeply wonder how they will cope when that tragedy occurs.Prestigious author Joyce Carol Oates, whose trenchant novels are known for their insight into the human condition, had a long and close relationship with her husband, Ray Smith. And as all such stories must, it ended with a death.Ray Smith’s quiet, unexpected death changed Oates life forever. ‘A Widow’s Story’ details that death and the painful changes that followed. Oates is honest in her grief, anger, and hurt as she explains the day by day survival skills that she is forced to acquire. When one has lost a part of herself that can never be replaced how does one rebuild a life? And why would she even try? ‘A Widow’s Story’ isn’t a feel good, self-help guide. It’s an intimate, honest portrait of the suffering and grief that are a natural result of great love and great loss. It wasn’t an easy book to write and it isn’t easy to read. Oates’ grief is brutal; it isn’t sanitized; her loss hurts. But as she fights to face each new day, the reader is granted insight into the courage and resilience of the human spirit.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    The famed author Joyce Carol Oates drove her husband to the emergency room with a bad cold/ pneumonia; he seemed to be improving during his few days in the hospital until she received a call in the middle of the night. She rushed to the hospital and found that he had died. This book details her experience of losing her beloved husband after a very long marriage, her shock at the quickness and finality of the death, her resulting insomnia and depression, her inability to connect with friends and the world for several months thereafter. This is a very sad book but very engrossing. I recommend it but it isn't light reading. There is just a hint at the very end of possibilities to come, and in fact Ms. Oates within the year was engaged to be married to another Princeton professor. I hope she writes a sequel to this book so we can know exactly how this came to be!
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    The memoir details what the author went through and experienced just before, during and after her husband died.To begin with, it's clear that Oates is a literary person, both due to the way that she writes, as well as the references that she makes.However, there was too much use of stream-of-consciousness for me to particularly enjoy reading the book. I can understand why Oates uses it so consistently in her memoir. Suddenly, her brain is moving a mile a minute, repetitively - she's not thinking in complete sentences. Often, her brain may not even be coherently registering a complete thought, let alone think in complete sentences. It's all fragments and confusion - and stream-of-consciousness perfectly portrays that.Just as it is difficult to live in a state where you're constantly overwhelmed with thoughts that are vague, unclear, and half-stated, however, it is also difficult for me to READ something that is written in such a manner, if it occurs for more than a few paragraphs. Oates used it a lot in the galley which I received, and after a few chapters utilizing it, my attention span began to wane. Dramatically.The memoir also necessarily repeats - usually stated in slightly different ways, after awhile, it was glaringly obvious that Oates was repeating the same material. This means, of course, that she was also GOING THROUGH the same things numerous times - which is a true-to-life sentiment. It also means, however, that much of the memoir, if you're not interested in reading repetition, feels unnecessary.The concept of the memoir is interesting, and I feel that if you like non-fiction, this book is probably something that you should check out. If you're generally a strict fiction fan, however, avoid this book, as it will probably not hold your interest for very long.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Thank you Joyce Smith for the much needed bibliotherapy.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Oates book is a help for people like me who can't understand overwhelming grief, When her husband died at age 77 Oates was overcome by grief. At times I wanted to say "Get Over It." and yet her insight as to what it was like helped me to see someone else's world. Yes, it was definitely self-centered grief. Her honesty in talking about suicidal thoughts, how others didn't understand, and the overwhelming burden of paperwork, as well as well intentioned depression and sleeping medications was at times hard to read. I did relish the fact that she overcame her grief by turning to daily jobs, like continuing Ray's garden.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I tend to not enjoy reading memoirs, which Joyce Carol Oates describes in this poignant book as at once the most seductive and dangerous of genres. At their worst, they come across as whiny (look at poor me and the vicissitudes I've overcome...) and at best, self-congratulatory. But then every so often one comes along, like Ann Patchett's memoir of a friendship in "Truth and Beauty", and this book by Oates about surviving the death of her husband.At some point, most of us will survive the loss of a loved one -- a parent, a child, a spouse. It's almost banal. And yet out of this experience, Oates has crafted a book that is unsparing of herself and yet a tribute to the value of loving and being loved. The death of her husband, Ray Smith, literally unmoors her, and she drifts far away from her former life, uncertain of whether she wants to return to it or if she ever can. Thoughts of suicide tempt her -- a basilisk figure lurking in the edge of her vision eggs her on, repeatedly, reminding her that she is a valueless person on her own -- even as she battles through the practicalities (disposing of the endless Harry & David "sympathy baskets", coping with distraught cats, reading a stream of sympathy letters.What struck me as most authentic and valid in this memoir is something that we should all try to remember (including the reviewer who described the author as arrogant and self-pitying): we cannot ever see inside of another's soul to fully understand the torment they are going through. If we are honest, we don't want to. What Oates has done in this memoir is to force us to confront the magnitude of the pain that the death of a spouse of 47 years brings in its wake; a pain that can be amplified rather than muted by the well-meaning gestures and platitudes of others. For whom do we exist? That's a question that Oates tackles indirectly and her verdict is mixed. Despite pondering suicide (periodically, throughout this memoir, she pauses to contemplate just how many pills she has available, and rejoices when she can obtain more) Oates opts for survival, of some kind. But it's as much despite the care and attention of her friends (appreciated, yet never a panacea as no panacea exists) as because of it. This book is more an act of catharsis than it is one that is intended to be helpful to others in similar situations. But it's also the most honest I've ever read about the way death of a loved one pushes one into oneself, into a state of mind and being that others too often dismiss as "selfish" or self-absorbed. I didn't find this book depressing, for it is as at least as much about the tremendous power and endurance of love as it as about the sorrows and traumas associated with its loss. As we age, we realize how inextricably the two are linked, and Oates is to be praised for not letting us get away with thinking that we will find the process inspirational or ultimately of value. It's not an easy book to read, but it's powerful, and it goes on to my list of the best books of the year that I've read so far. I wouldn't recommend that anyone who has recently lost a loved one read it -- it may rub salt in the wound, may irritate or anger someone who feels and reacts to that loss in a different manner -- but anyone over the age of 40 should read it, as well as anyone who wants to be reassured that a memoir isn't just a "look how great I am" book in disguise. I've rated it 5 stars.Full disclosure: I obtained a copy of the book from the publishers via NetGalley.com
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    In this haunting and lyrical memoir by Joyce Carol Oates, a wife speaks candidly about her husband’s untimely death and the repercussions it has on her life after the unthinkable happens. When Joyce’s husband Ray is up earlier than usual one morning, she immediately notices that something is just not right. Ray looks pale and clammy, and is sitting amid a tower of crumpled tissues, and when Joyce suggests that he may need to go to the emergency room, the two think this trip will be just an annoyance and interruption. But it turns out that Ray has pneumonia, and though at first he improves, a secondary infection suddenly takes his life. Joyce isn’t able to see Ray before he dies, and it’s only one of the things she begins to obsesses about after Ray’s tragic death. Now Joyce is alone and becoming unhinged. Though she immediately begins thinking about suicide, she decides against it and begins her painful days as a widow in a world that feels alien and hostile to her. As she begins to live a life without Ray, her most steadfast and loyal companion, Joyce becomes troubled by insomnia, anger and depression, and repeatedly considers suicide as the answer to the pain she feels. Her only redemption is through her steadfast friends and the writing classes she teaches, but in times of immense stress, even this seems like it’s not enough. In this memoir filled with remembrances, email correspondence and personal asides, we see Joyce Carol Oates as never before, and are on the sidelines as she reveals the shocking destruction left behind when her life mate tragically passes away.Not having read any of Oates’ previous work, I wondered if I would be able to connect with the story the author tells. Not knowing much about Oates seemed like it would be a hindrance in this case, but ultimately, this book tells the story of what could happen to any one of us. With Oates’ ability to capture the hidden sides of her life along with the more personal topics, I was able to make a connection with her that made this book come alive in my hands. Oates captures all the rage, frustration and pain that losing Ray has caused her with a fluidity and emotional resonance that surprised me and wrung my heart in the most tender way possible.Joyce and Ray had somewhat of a restrained relationship which I initially found odd. This could have been because Ray was somewhat older than Joyce and had grown up in a different era. They didn’t have conversations about painful or uncomfortable topics, and Ray was sometimes emotionally distant when it came to his previous life. They didn’t share their writing with one another and they never had children. I think Joyce looked at Ray as sort of a father figure, and what she got out of her marriage was stability, affection and comfort. This is very different from my marriage and most marriages I know, for it would never cross my mind to be reticent with my partner and not share everything that was on my mind with him. It was almost as if there were barriers between the two that would not be crossed, but it worked for the two of them and there was certainly a lot of love shared within the confines of their relationship.When Joyce loses Ray, she loses a significant piece of herself as well, and it was frightening to hear her speak so matter-of-factly about taking her own life in response to losing her husband. She couldn't take the well-meaning condolences her friends and acquaintances offered her, and became very despondent over all the things she now had to deal with. She relates some of the insensitivity that Ray’s death inspired and speaks at length about the monster that lived inside her soul eating away all that was healthy and good from her life. Joyce was ill-equipped to deal with what was going on around her and often she spoke about having two personalities: the public one that functioned and even smiled and laughed around her friends and colleagues, and the private one that was desperately trying to hold on to life. She dealt with horrible insomnia and felt like an alien in her empty house, eventually becoming addicted to various medications in her efforts to stave off her despair and apathy. Joyce found her life again through the careful ministrations of her friends, but her road out of the hell she was in was long and painful, and even towards the conclusion of the book, it was clear that she still had a long way to go.One of the things that made this book so compelling was Joyce’s ability to candidly express her despair and confusion over the loss of Ray. She’s extremely capable when it comes to relating her feelings and emotions that were provoked within her, and at times the book read like a lyrical portrayal of heartbreak. It was easy to empathize with her because she was so familiar with the contours of her heart and mind, and when utter destruction set in, she was able to give her words and feelings a gravity and depth that they would touch even the coldest reader. it was hard to watch her struggle like this, and very hard for me to realize that even when I turned the last page, her heartache hadn’t yet abated. I found her willingness to be open about even the most minute details of her life with Ray and the chronicling of the impact of her loss to be very courageous and noteworthy. Hers was a landscape of horrible despair, but nothing was done to sugar-coat what she was feeling at any time.This book would be ideal for anyone who’s gone through a similar loss, and even for those who are dealing with crippling emotional circumstances of a different nature. Oates’ ability to capture the fragility of a wounded soul is remarkable and will make readers feel as if they’ve found someone who can share and understand their pain. It was a dark read for sure, but one that made me think about many things and made me realize just how the death of a loved one can change a life. A very intense and worthy read. Recommended.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Memoir is not my favourite genre, but as far as memoir goes this one is right up there. Coincidentally, Oates' colleague, Joan Didion wrote a very similar and also excellent memoir of her husband's death, "The Year of Magical Thinking". Where would we be without dying husbands? I'm not a huge fan of the entire output of Joyce Carol Oates, with the horror genre definitely not appearing on my reading list, but reading this memoir has encouraged me to go back into her extensive backlist and have another look. Actually I didn't read this in the strict sense, I listened to the audiobook version while I ran through the streets of Sydney at night. There's another coincidence - Oates is a runner, She said in an interview once: "I like to run every day. It's part of my writing. It helps me think. I get so many wonderful ideas when I run." I can relate to that, and I can relate very well to the story of the loss of her husband, although thankfully my partner is alive & well. This audiobook had a really excellent reader: Ellen Parker.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I haven't read much by Joyce Carol Oates considering how much she has written. I read one or two of her novels when I was much younger and I'm a big fan of her short story, "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" I have been feeling disappointed by memoir as a genre lately, but the Times Book Review spoke very highly of Oates' new contribution, so I requested a galley.The book begins on a normal day with Oates just returning from a speaking engagement. When she arrives, she finds that her husband has gotten ill while she was away. It is incredibly pedestrian, and yet from the first pages her story compelled me. Husband and wife fuss and decide that they won't wait to see their general practitioner, deciding instead to go to the emergency room, where Ray (Oates' husband of almost 50 years), is admitted with pneumonia. Considering the title of the book, it is no spoiler to say that, only a few days later, Ray passes away. And yet, reading those heart-wrenching chapters, I felt like I was reading a brilliantly crafted work of fiction. I could turn the pages fast enough on my I-pad; I was rooting for Ray despite knowing the outcome. The suddenness of his passing was distressing and the portrayal of Oates throughout rang to me as heart-breakingly accurate.After Ray's death, Oates explores what it means to be a widow and how she coped-with the help of friends and work and medications- in the months following her loss. There are sad moments and funny moments, and the reader feels the surreality of the writer's current state. Throughout the book, however, she writes with clarity and a competency that reminds us that she is a professional story teller. She explores the form of the memoir, eventually coming to the realization that "all memoirs are journeys. investigations. Some memoirs are pilgrimages." She sees her journey as the latter. I felt like I was on the journey with her, and it seemed to be a journey in many senses. Not only did Oates embark on the obvious journey of coming to terms with the death of her partner of many decades, it also seems to be a journey in which she merges her identity as Joyce Smith with her writer's persona-Joyce Carol Oates, or as she refers to her- JCO. She claims midway through the book that she has "walled [her]self off from 'Joyce Carol Oates,'" and has also created "walls" between herself and Ray by keeping their professional identities separate from their identity as a married couple. Through the book, she gets to know Ray better in crucial ways, and that is part of the journey as well.What I liked best about the book was its readability. Like I mentioned earlier, the reader knows that she is in the hands of a professional. I also found the book honest - at times beautiful and at others baffling. The author doesn't hide the moments in her relationship that some of us might find a bit strange (What? They didn't read each others' writing?). Overall, this might be one of the best memoirs I've read, and it makes me more than likely to pick up some more of Oates' fiction in the future.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This heartfelt and deeply personal memoir follows the author through the first full year after the sudden death of her husband of many years. Shocking in it's truth, beautiful in it's execution, this book is a good read for those who are grieving. I myself valued it as an accurate and unflinching look at what is likely in my future.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    this is Ms. Oats memoir of her grief and loss after the death of her husband. Similar to the year of magical thinking. I found to be a very powerful and moving book. I am a huge fan of Ms. Oates, I think she is a wonderful writer. This book reinforces that believe. I learned alot about her. She makes grief very real
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This intense and moving portrait of grief was heartbreaking and riveting. But it was also very, very difficult to read, given its subject matter. It's worth the immersion, however. This book changed me, and maybe it will change you, too.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    One year and six weeks before her husband’s death, Joyce and Raymond were lucky to walk away from an automobile accident that could just as easily have killed both of them. Joyce Carol Oates and her husband, publisher and editor Raymond Smith, would look upon each day after that accident as a gift, bonus time granted them on their time together. That would all change on February 18, 2008, when Oates would so suddenly be thrust into widowhood that she would be left reeling from the shock for months to come.Joyce and Raymond Smith had been married for forty-seven years, and they expected to be together for a good many more, on the morning Joyce awoke to find her husband feeling poorly. Because she could see that his illness was more severe than he believed it to be, Oates convinced Smith to let her drive him to Princeton Medical Center. There he was admitted with pneumonia, but the couple expected that he would be treated and released in only a few days. Up until the early hours of February 18, when Oates received an urgent phone call from the hospital, that seemed to be exactly what would happen.Technically, Raymond Smith did not die of pneumonia or its complications. He died, instead, from a secondary infection he picked up inside Princeton Medical Center, and his was a death for which Oates was completely unprepared. One minute she was feeling optimistic about her husband’s homecoming; the next, she found herself trying to make it back to the hospital before he died.Suddenly, her life seemed to lose all meaning. Gone was the man around whom she centered her world and, staggered by her grief, Oates lost all desire to go on alone. She could not sleep, had no desire to eat, and felt even her spirit fading away as the thought of suicide more and more appealed to her. What kept Oates going in those early months was her ability to lose herself in her “JCO” personae; she became a Joyce Carol Oates impersonator, an author with commitments that allowed her to travel from reading-to-reading across the country. She did not have to be Joyce Smith, widow, until she returned to her lonely New Jersey home.A Widow’s Story will remind many readers of Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking (2005), in which Didion explored her own reaction to sudden widowhood. Like that memoir, A Widow’s Story can, at times, be disturbing in its frankness about the effects of the despair and grief that follow the loss of a longtime spouse and companion. Most disturbing to me, personally, was the realization that even someone like Oates, with her vast network of friends, colleagues and well-wishers, essentially had to weather the storm on her own. Good intentions and simple kindnesses did little to relieve her of the pain that crushed both her spirit and her will to live. Oates is a survivor now, as is Didion. What she tells us about her experience is not pretty, and it is not particularly inspirational. But it is real, and that, after all, is what Joyce Carol Oates is all about. This woman pulls no punches in her fiction, and she pulls no punches here.Rated at: 4.0
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    Wow, JCO! I just hardly know what to say here. The honesty and openness with your emotions and feelings is raw. Painful. Dark. And repetitive. I ached for you, I really did but the method you used for telling this story grated. This third person "the widow" device was bizarre and, for me, detracted from the flow and feeling. Also, I was mostly creeped out that you still refer to your (deceased) father as "Daddy". Maybe this wasn't a good time for me to read this memoir of yours, as I seem to be nit-picky about the book, questioning. I am glad you got through this time and very happy you seem to be surrounded by wonderful friends. Friends can make all the difference.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Ms. Oates is a tremendously gifted writer, and in this book she takes us through the pain and confusion of the sudden and unexpected loss of her husband of 47 years. In a visit to the hospital, Ray is found to have pneumonia. A couple of days before he was to be released, Ms. Oates receives a call in the middle of the night - please come, he is still alive. By the time she reaches the hospital, he is no longer alive, and thus begins her journey into the numbness and bewildering sadness that comprises a deep grief. As we journey with the author through her memories and through the aftermath of losing her life partner of almost 50 years, those of us familiar with grief may recognize the numbness and disorientation of loss so aptly chronicled in this memoir. Those who haven't gone through a sudden loss would do well to read this account, as it may help give a deeper understanding of the wandering, disconnected thoughts which accompany the effort to cope with loss. Of particular interest to me was her description of suicidal thoughts - not that she wanted to commit suicide, but that the idea that it was available as an option helped power her through the times when she falls into "sinkholes" of memory and loss.There are transcripts of some of the mails she received included in various places throughout the novel, and I feel that she is indeed a fortunate woman to have such supportive friends and acquaintances. From the note that says so truthfully, "...you are going to be so unhappy" to the note that states, "one breath at a time", it is obvious that these friends know the true depth that a loss like this entails - that it won't "get better" for a long time, and that even when the numbness eases, it will never be the same.If you've ever gone through your own loss, these words will comfort you as you realize that you are not and were not alone in your inability to inwardly cope. I thank the author for sharing her experience with us; it had to be extremely difficult to put these feelings into words that could so accurately convey it.QUOTES....sometimes, I call our home number from my cell phone, to hear Ray's recorded voice that is so comforting, and which, when they call this number, our friends will hear for a very long time.It is strange to be so assailed by rushing thoughts when I am moving so slowly - speaking so slowly - like one who has been slammed over the head with a sledgehammer.For this is the great discovery of my posthumous life - I am not strong enough to continue a life to no purpose except getting through the day followed by getting through the night. I am not strong enough to believe that so minimal a life is worth the effort to protract it.BOOK RATING: 4.5 out of 5 stars
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    A beautifully written memoir, which took quite some time to read. A good reminder of how people who appear so lofty and successful are as human as anyone else.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A WIDOW'S STORY, Joyce Carol Oates's memoir of the year following the sudden unexpected death of her husband of 48 years was a simply wrenching read. She holds nothing back in her interior monologues showing her inconsolable grief, loneliness and suicidal thoughts. That part of her narrative is indeed very hard to read, as it makes one wonder if most, if not all widows, go through such agony.But Oates is a writer, and this book is obviously one of the ways she worked her way through what has been one of the most awful times of her life. I was reminded of another such book I read a few years back, Anne Roiphe's EPILOGUE. And Oates herself mentions the bestselling memoir written by Joan Didion, following the loss of that writer's husband. Perhaps it is not surprising that the parts I found most interesting in Oates's story are the memories she shares of her long marriage, particularly those from the early days of their marriage, when the world was filled with so many possibilities. Since then Oates has become nationally famous as an author, of course, with over 60 books published. She is even aware that her obsessively prodigious writing output has made her something of a joke in some writing circles, albeit, I think, a very gentle sort of joke, since writers in general are simply in awe of the sheer volume of her work. The truth is, although I've been very aware of Oates's work for forty years, I've only really read one of her books - a short one called BLONDE. I've started reading a few others, but never managed to finish any of them, beginning with THEM, back in the 70s. Her fiction is generally simply too 'dense' for my taste.The memoir is a well-blended pastiche of journal entries, emails and frankly-voiced fears that must face all long-married people who are suddenly alone, for whatever reason. I was moved deeply by the distress evidenced so eloquently by Oates. I will admit that I was initially a bit intimidated by the sheer length of the book (over 400 pages), but found it to be a surprisingly quick read, owing I have to assume to Oates's skill as a writer. (Even so, it probably could have been pared down a bit; could have benefited from an astute and sympathetic editor.) It's not an easy book to read. It's a hard subject. But it is a beautifully written account of the long and painful trajectory of grief.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    3 out of 5 starsI immediately requested the ARC of Joyce Carol Oates' A Widow's Story: A Memoir when it was first offered. I had had such strong reactions to Joan Didion's memoir, A Year of Magical Thinking, which I read shortly after the death of my son. I thought maybe my reaction would be different since 5 years have passed. Not so. Although the two authors' styles are miles apart, the raw pain and emotion are the same. Joyce Carol Oates is a well known, "instant recognition" name in writing but her private life for the past 48 years was that of Joyce Smith, wife of Raymond Smith, a well known editor. That private life collapsed, disappeared, and became a kind of nightmare when Raymond suddenly died. Like death of any kind, we never prepare for it. It doesn't matter if the loved one is older or young. We simply stay in denial about the mortality that we all have. How we deal with the loss is another matter. I am jealous of these writers that they are able to express and put to paper the madness, angry, rage, and all the other emotions that cannot be suppressed. All of us who have suffered such a loss feel and experience this wide range of emotions but we are unable to verbalize or explain them to our friends and family. Some of us are lucky enough to maybe have a close friend or a therapist that has also had such a loss and can identify with the feelings that are surging through us and help us survive those waves, but many are left to flounder on their own. You hear about the families and friendships that break apart after such a loss, and you can clearly see why when you read of the near insanity that Ms. Oates is able to reveal in her grieving testament. I really struggled through parts of this book. I wanted to shout to her to get help from her close friends. I felt her anger at the medical community prevented her from getting the help she might have benefited from if she had sought grief therapy. And ultimately I realized that each of us must bear these feelings and sense of loss on our own terms.