Review: The Lover's Dictionary

The best parts of this book:

deciduous, adj.

I couldn't believe one person could own so many shoes, and still buy new ones every year.

celibacy, n.

n/a

fast, n. and adj.

Starvation and speed. Noun and adjective. This is where I get caught. A fast is the opposite of desire. It is the negation of desire. It is what I feel after we fight.

The speed does us in. We act rashly, we say too much, we don't let all the synapses connect before we do the thing we shouldn't do.

You make it a production. Slam doors. Knock things over. Scream. But I just leave. Even if I'm still standing there, I leave. I am refusing you. I am denying you. I am an adjective that is quickly turning into a noun.

posterity, n.

I try not to think about us growing old together, mostly because I try not to think about growing old at all. Both things - the years passing, the years together - are too enormous to contemplate. But one morning, I gave in. You were asleep, and I imagined you older and older. Your hair graying, your skin folded and creased, your breath catching. And I found myself thinking: If this continues, if this goes on, then when I die, your memories of me will be my greatest accomplishment. Your memories will be my most lasting impression.

exemplar, n.
You love my parents, I know. But you never get too close. You never truly believe there aren’t bad secrets underneath

belittle, v.
No, I don’t listen to the weather in the morning. No, I don’t keep track of what I spend. No, it hadn’t occurred to me that the Q train would have been much faster. But every time you give me that look, it doesn’t make me want to live up to your standards.

Personal reflections:

I think I've been all these definitions at one time.

This a beautifully written story. Really fed my brain. I had no idea how starved my head was for this kind of exercise.

This book made me geniunely thankful for the ability to read, to comprehend, to think.

Brillant piece. Really brilliant. Loved the definition of gamut. Such genius.