Naja Marie Aidt's shattering elegy about her grown son's death is a modern Greek tragedy-and a relentless account of grief's deepest reality.
Naja Marie Aidt's book on the loss of her son is a genuine and unbearable masterwork. ...[Her writing] about death, grief and the indescribable consequences make up this incredibly good book. I wish Aidt never had to write about this endless nightmare, indeed, one of its most important points is that grief never goes away. And yet, we now have a book without illusions, a merciless and insistent depiction of how deeply death reaches into the body and soul. Aidt has rendered a convincing reconstruction of the depths of grief.
An immense work of art ... an extremely beautiful and shockingly sorrowful work and a declaration of love's communality. One of the most painful and paradoxically one of the most beautiful books I have ever read...
There is no one quite like Naja Marie Aidt. She's comparable only to things like sequoias, whale-song, desert thunderstorms, or wolves. The depth of her emotional world and the diaphanous, often brutal clarity with which she understands the human soul beckon us to pause, breathe, think. Here, she takes us on a journey into death and loss, and then thrusts us back out-back into life-more awake, more ready to embrace it as it comes.