general

As her father's Alzheimer's disease advances in her account, Judith Levine tells of how it is no longer clear whether he knows who she is. She says that he sometimes calls her "Shorty". "Do you remember me?" is what he asks her and others, as a way for him to remember them. "Yes, I do, I remember you well," she replies. This is a beautiful book that reads like a novel, although filled with philosophical musings about the self, and what it means to be a human being while not a "thinking" human being, that require great concentration from the reader. It's deeply moving because Levine had a bad relationship with her father, and, as life would have it, reaches out to him when he is falling ill. Her discussions with her mother are also moving because of the great difficulty in coping with somebody becoming prey to Alzheimer's, and the need for caregivers to build up ways to protect themselves. Levine however does not accept the "standard rule" apparently in Alzheimer's medical and family circles, that in order to care for a patient, one must come to believe that he or she is no longer a "self". That's why the book could be called "Shorty and I" because Levine has written the "I" - her father - into the story. As much as he can be, he's a player, not a subject.

I got a great deal out of reading Levine's fascinating book about her father's dementia. It made such compelling reading that the book was hard to put down. What I especially admired was Levine's skillful combining of autobiographical detail and informed discussion of dementia. The two aspects of the book flowed into each other: the autobiographical details provide evidence for Levine's take on debates about dementia. She's fully informed about these debates having read both neuroscientists and psychologists and more on the issue. She is thus able to discuss the science involved without overwhelming the reader.

Second, as with many others I'm sure, elements of Levine's story resonated with my experiences with relatives who are aging. Levine's understanding of dementia and her description of the problems of assisted living were illuminating.

Third, I was persuaded by Levine's view of dementia, and the side she takes in ongoing debates. While in no way denying the biological changes in the brain that go with aging, Levine shows that the way a person reacts to neurological changes (the tangled plaques, etc) depends on her context-on her social and emotional environment. Also, how others respond to one's aging determines one's vulnerability to dementia. This very much fits in with my interest in the social construction of "aging," and in how age discourse impacts on those of us, indeed, aging, from the marketing geared to this group to the continued dismissal and marginalizing of the elderly in a youth-obsessed culture. Levine's analysis of the Cartesian model and what's wrong with it resonates very much with new work by Teresa Brennan, in her posthumous Transmission of Affect. Reader's of Levine's book might appreciate reading Brennan.

Finally, Levine's discussion of the caregiver and different expectations of this role, different possibilities of the role, was very informative.

Levine's openness about her family and personal life is remarkable and draws the reader in. I was fascinated with drama that emerges in Levine's relationship with her mother, and appreciated the irony that Levine could get closer to her father once he could no longer provoke intellectual battles with his daughter: This supports Levine's view that the rational, individual self of the western enlightenment omits many other important ways of being, loving and knowing.

Levine's writing throughout does not get in the way of what she's saying, which, for me, is the highest praise one can give about any writing.

I appreciated the opportunity to read this book. It should be mandatory reading for every social worker, doctor and caregiver!

Judith Levine has written a powerful book that explores the
many dimensions of Alzheimer's. She challenges common medical
opinions and offers alternatives; she reveals the awesome
conflict between herself and her Mother as they struggle to
face the father/husband's decline; and she bravely listens to her father, trying to be with the self that remains. The family battle over whether to institutionalize and the difficulty in finding adequate home care providers will resonate with anyone
who has faced similar dilemmas. But most important, Levine gives the reader a profound appreciation of the mystery of the apparently disappearing self. Surely readers will now see such people with a new sense of humility and wonder. Thank you, Judith!