A New York death doula is challenged to live her life to the fullest by the family, friends, and clients she has helped along the way.
Clover Brooks has been surrounded by death since a young age. Raised by her since-passed grandfather, she has always had a small social circle and a hard time connecting with people. That is, unless she is at work. Clover is a death doula, and she has turned a seemingly macabre fascination with people’s last moments into a meaningful and fulfilling career, supporting those that employ her in the face of death and helping their families cope with the dying process. She stays close to those she helped via journals with notes from past clients entitled “Regrets,” “Advice,” and “Confessions,” and that’s all the connection she thinks she needs.
But Clover’s comfortable, anti-social equilibrium is about to be disrupted. Her beloved, elderly neighbor, Leo, pushes her to make friends with a new tenant in the building, Sylvie. Additionally, she encounters a new client, Sebastian, at a death café and finds that he needs her help with his terminally-ill, former-photojournalist grandmother, Claudia. Claudia shares with Clover stories of the life she has lived, and most importantly, a huge regret in the form of a long-lost love. Clover must now put herself out there both personally and professionally in a way that forces her to confront her insecurities about friendship, romance, and boundaries. Should she feel self-conscious about what new people think of her apartment, still chalk-full of her deceased grandfather’s things? Should she act on the suspected romantic interest of someone paying for her time, or is there someone better suited for her out there? Should she contact a long-lost love on behalf of her client even if it could disrupt people’s lives?
Clover was one of the better protagonists I followed last year. Her elder millennial, slightly-past-quarter-life crises felt relatable, though some of her more anti-social tendencies were a bit cringey (no one should have binoculars to peep on their neighbors!). The mistakes she made as she navigated the new waters of in-depth connection felt consistent with her character, as did the lessons she learned and the way in which she grew by the end of the book. Often times, I’ve read books where the character arc shows an anti-social introvert transform into a life-of-the party extrovert, as if becoming an outgoing person fixes all of your problems. Mikki Brammer instead created a very believable arc for her shy protagonist and also introduced multi-layered, interesting side-characters whose individual journeys took some twists and turns that both Clover and I did not expect (and a couple that I did!). Brammer’s method of using Clover’s flashbacks and memories to reinforce her motivations in any given chapter was captivating without slowing down the pace of the book. Even when Clover stumbled, I still cheered for her, and that’s the sign of a good story.
This was a solid 4.5/5 for me. This book discusses death A LOT, so perhaps it isn’t for everyone. It epitomizes the word “bittersweet.” While maybe not a beach read, it is definitely still a hopeful, fun take on a sad, seemingly taboo topic.
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