I really did not enjoy this book. It pains me to have to write my reaction about it because my reaction is very plain and easy to understand. The Diving Bell and The Butterfly was all about a paralyzed man who felt bad for himself. I am not trying to sound like I have a heart made of stone, but a certain point is reached where enough is enough.
In the beginning, I too felt bad. What would life be like? Knowing that the rest of your life would be spent lying or sitting, unable to speak, or eat, or laugh, the list goes on. This man was torn away from everything he loved in a matter of seconds. A potentially deadly stroke, and everything you loved is out of your reach. The fact that he was able to write a memoir is both inspiring and humbling. All of this feeling however, started and ended within the first three, very short chapters.
After getting over the feeling of pity and sadness, I started to realize how depressing the entire book was. The whole story was him wishing his life was back to normal, and how it never would be. For me, reading a depressing book is fine, but this book was depressing to the point where I felt should fall onto my knees and praise God for all that I have. I do that at church every Sunday, so that was not really necessary.
I'm sorry he had a stroke, but I didn't take any message from this story. Which, when you think about it, is usually the whole point of a book, right?