Oh broccoli, who are simple.

Tangles : A story about Alzheimer's, my mother and me by Sarah Leavitt

Every few days I look through the New Adult Graphic Books and New Teen Graphic Books list over at the Toronto Public Library to see if they've picked up anything I've been waiting for. Generally, the titles I add to my hold list are ones I've read or heard good things about. When I came across Tangles, it was completely unknown to me. I liked the title, so I decided to look it up. Turns out, it was included in the Globe and Mail's list of the top 100 books of 2010, as well as a finalist for several awards. Those seemed like good incentives for me to pick it up, and so I did.

Tangles, as the full title might imply, is about Alzheimer's disease and a family affected by it. Based on her own experience, Sarah Leavitt recounts how she, her sister and her father, coped with slowly losing their wife and mother, Midge. As you read the introduction, you realize that you are being allowed into something intensely private and personal. As the author describes it, " I often felt like Harriet the Spy, or in darker moments, like a vulture hovering and waiting for Mom to say something that I could record and preserve, even as she slipped away from me."

The story in and of itself is fairly run-of-the-mill. You may have seen movies like Away From Her or the considerably more saccharine The Notebook and, in comparison, Tangles doesn't add anything new to the genre, as far as plot goes. What is really remarkable about this book, what makes it an amazing and touching read, is its humanity.

Leavitt doesn't provide excessive amounts of back story but she chose quality over quantity. The characters are so well-rounded and real that by the end, you can't help but feel as though you know these people about as well as you know your own family. I often wondered whether the author's family might take offence to their portrayal at times. They get angry when they should be patient, they make bad decisions and they argue with each other when they should be supportive. In other words, they are real people with good intentions who get tired, emotional and upset, just like everyone else.

It's not all tragedy and sadness though. The book is filled with snippets of dialogue that, while sad in their depiction of someone drifting away, were also beautifully poetic and at times laugh out loud funny. Her family learns to appreciate the beauty in how she manages to express herself and take a great deal of pleasure in making her laugh and keeping her happy and comfortable. I can only hope to be so well surrounded when my time comes.

I leave you with two of my favourite passages.

N.B.
For further reading in the "real people dealing with real things" genre, consider the following graphic novels:

Blankets, by Craig Thompson, about attaining sexual maturity in a very Christian household.
Epileptic, by David B., about dealing with, you guessed it, epilepsy.
Fun Home : A Tragicomedy, by Alison Bechdel, about dealing with repressed homosexuality and suicide.
Pedro and Me, by Judd Winick, about dealing with the loss of a friend to AIDS.