| Title | : | Lost \u0026 Found: A Memoir |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 0525512462 |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9780525512462 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Hardcover |
| Number of Pages | : | 256 |
| Publication | : | First published January 11, 2022 |
| Awards | : | National Book Award Nonfiction (2022), Goodreads Choice Award Memoir & Autobiography (2022) |
Lost \u0026 Found: A Memoir Reviews
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Update …. I just noticed that this is $1.99 Kindall special today Great price - Terrific book!!
We have a strange and interesting relationships to grief…
don’t we?
Have you thought about it thoroughly?
I think about it often.
The author said…. (and I quote):
“In the beginning we fear that it will never end… then as time moves on we fear that it will”.
I could never say enough brilliant things about this brilliant book.
I have no idea who to recommend it to —-
I only know that for me it was an extraordinary listening audiobook experience!
Having just finished it, I probably need more time to digest my thoughts deeper —
But my husband, Paul, just walked by, and I tried to describe to him —-that I’m so profoundly shifted from having read this book… “so much so’, I don’t think I can ever hear the words. LOST ‘or’ FOUND and ‘ever’ think of them the same again. ……
From The differences between searching to find something, or serendipitously finding something….
Or, why FEELING BETTER can feel like loss —-
To…..
THE *** highlight***chunk of this book
(part memoir, part essays) — about a daughters love for her father, and her love for her partner, and everything in between to understand all the side dishes that come along with ❤️LOVE ❤️.
There is so much love bleeding all over the pages of this book….(I hate to repeat the same words)… so excuse me —- but AGAIN, I must say ‘SO MUCH SO’ …..
That absolutely no words …… none ……. Zilch will do it justice.
I was in awe.
I was present as in not drifting while listening.
A couple of times I was so completely blown away by the brilliant ways the author put into words experiences that we all have had occasionally…..
yet we really didn’t have the words to what it was we just experienced.
The personal parts of the story was Kathryn’s love for her father….her partner, her family, friends…
LOVE….Kathryn couldn’t have written this specific book—- getting by on her talent alone (and she’s a fantastic great writer)……
But you couldn’t make this stuff up if you tried—-
Katherine herself is pure love— she creates it, she sees it, she invents it…. She honors it.
My God, could anyone have expressed things any more beautifully and profoundly than what she did? - absolutely not. I’ve never read this author before but she’s an insanely ridiculously phenomenal writer —-
and I don’t just mean her words —-
she digs deep inside our guts and pulls out:
emotions,
thoughts
and
questions
All at the same time — then sprinkles them with hot chili flakes. (My senses were bouncing all over place — my mind was on fire -and my heart was aching beyond aching)
And while I was gut truthfully touched ‘emotionally’, I was slowly getting a remarkable advance-education— worldly education -about social life, the universe, the orbit, comets- and how WE WORK AS PEOPLE IN THIS WHOLE WIDE WORLD…..
and a terrific story at the beginning of part two about a little boy named Billy.
Cheers to our life!
Cheers to each other!
Cheers for profound authors, who write books like this…
who have the talent to expressed things we’ve needed to hear but didn’t know we did.
5 VERY STRONG STARS from me!!!!!
PS. Oh I listen to the audiobook…
I’m a little lazy right now to look up how long it was. But it was the ‘audiobook-format’ and absolutely read perfectly. -
Click here to hear my thoughts on this book over on my Booktube channel, abookolive.
It would be hard for any memoir to affect me as much as
Why Fish Don't Exist: A Story of Loss, Love, and the Hidden Order of Life did, but this one came mighty close. -
Divided into three sections, the first part, Loss, is spectacularly beautifully written and poetic. It’s about the loss of her father, who had been ill for many years, which in no way blunted the grief she felt afterward, but it’s also about how much of life is about loss. Sometimes it's things that are just irritating to lose like keys and phones and wallets, but also the much bigger things that can’t be replaced. I highlighted so much of this memoir because of the insights and gorgeous writing.
It’s not written linearly. She’ll be writing about the grief that continued to hit her in waves after her father died, and then go into scientific explanations about all manner of things.
The second section of this book is about falling in love with the woman who would eventually become her wife, and the wonders of finally finding love several months before her father died.
This is a memoir from a smart, well-educated person intended to be read by smart, well-educated people. The first part alone makes it worth the although the entire book is compelling and wonderful.
Thanks to NetGalley for the opportunity to review this book, which RELEASES JANUARY 11, 2022. -
Sad, but a good book on grief should be. But also uplifting in a different sort of way.
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Kathryn changed my life; maybe her book will change yours.
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Lost and Found: A Memoir (2022) is a thoughtfully written philosophical exploration of loss, mourning, and renewal found in the discovery and celebration of love. Kathryn Schultz author/journalist won a Pulitzer Prize feature magazine writing about the seismic risk located in the Pacific Northwest (2016), Shultz is a staff writer at the New Yorker, this is her second book.
It is an unfortunate cliché that many writers seem to experience unhappy childhoods, Shultz noted that hers was just the opposite. Shultz and her sister were raised by adoring, supportive, and nurturing parents. Due to his own “rootless” (Jewish) childhood status, her father was fluent in six languages, practiced law, and had an extraordinarily brilliant mind, personality, and intellect. Her mother, with a love of language and dictation taught French. Both her parents inspired Shultz foundation of love in learning and education and in the discovery of knowledge, understanding, including a literary awe in the surrounding world.
The process of her parents downsizing, de-junking, and taking up less space (from their spacious multi-storied Ohio home) to an efficiency apartment, began several years before her beloved father’s death at age 74. Through the contemplation of mourning and grief, we can lose our faith, hope, and health. Shultz felt her father’s enduring legacy and reflected on objects lost from keys, clothes, people, places and other things—still, life must continue on without the presence of those we love. Following the death of Prince Albert, Queen Victoria said the “salt” had gone out from her life.
Whether Shultz was writing about meteorites striking and landing on the earth's surface, or what the inland North American coast line was like millions of years ago (with parts of New Jersey, Maryland and Delaware covered by layers of shallow ocean waters), or ancient Egyptian civilizations, to her life hiking along the coastline of Costa Rica, -- readers are presented with interesting psychological, philosophical, or scientific facts and highlights that are interwoven with Shultz life story narrative. By the time Shultz met her wife she simply called “C”—she quickly recognized how right C. was for her. Plato believed that the beloved can be identified through memory that begins to form before birth. While this book can’t be absorbed as quickly as a typical memoir, this book is an impressive and informative read for the seekers of knowledge and truths so often found in life studies. **With thanks to Random House via NetGalley for the DDC for the purpose of review. -
Part memoir, part essay, part extended meditation, this is an impressive exploration of myriad forms of loss and discovery. New Yorker writer Kathryn Schulz goes back to a momentous time in her life, when she met and fell for the woman she would later marry, a turbulent period inextricably linked to the death of her father Isaac. In lyrical, probing, sometimes passionate prose, Schulz has constructed a nuanced portrait of grief that’s also a celebration of happenstance, of unexpected, profound connection. It’s a nuanced, intellectually complex, admirably disciplined piece that roams through territories and concepts. Schulz draws on literature from quest narrative to poetry, philosophy, anecdote and personal experience, inviting comparisons to work by Leslie Jamison, Susan Sontag or Maggie Nelson. Schulz’s father’s a particularly memorable figure, deftly drawn. An erudite, Jewish lawyer who could quote a stream of lines from plays and books, hold forth on everything from Italian anarchists to baseball but rarely find his keys. Someone who grew up in the shadow of trauma and immense loss - most of his relatives were deported from Lodz in Poland to Auschwitz during the war. He’s juxtaposed with C, Schulz’s later wife, originally working-class, a country girl whose love of reading took her to Harvard, and whose devout Christianity makes her seem an unlikely choice for an atheist, steeped in Jewish heritage and lore, like Schulz, but is somehow, and absolutely, the right fit. A richly-textured, moving, thought-provoking piece.
Thanks to Netgalley and publisher Picador, Pan Macmillan for an arc -
This is so smart, moving and inspiring! If you avoid memoirs because you dislike navel-gazing, this book is for you.
Schulz’ cerebral exploration of life’s big losses and loves made me cry, then laugh, then laugh again. Her ideas inspired me, both to synthesize my own, and to research the many pulled-from, literary references.
The book is not without its flaws - she provides such varied chunks of information that there’s bound to be parts some would skim - but Schulz asks big questions and shares such nuanced personal answers without arrogance, that the result is highly emotional.
I will buy this for friends, I will read this again.
Thanks to Random House and Barnes & Noble for the advanced reader’s edition.
PS I happen to love navel-gazing. In fact, when artfully done, it’s one of the reasons I read. But I loved this, too. -
This is so smart, moving and inspiring! If you avoid memoirs because you dislike navel-gazing, this book is for you.
Schulz’ cerebral exploration of life’s big losses and loves made me cry, then laugh, then laugh again. Her ideas inspired me, both to synthesize my own, and to research the many pulled-from, literary references.
The book is not without its flaws - she provides such varied chunks of information that there’s bound to be parts some would skim - but Schulz asks big questions and shares such nuanced personal answers without arrogance, and the result is highly emotional.
I will buy this for friends, I will read this again.
Thanks to Random House and Barnes & Noble for the advanced reader’s edition.
PS
I happen to love navel-gazing. In fact, when artfully done, it’s one of the reasons I read. But I loved this, too. -
Lost & Found: A Memoir by Kathryn Schulz was recommended to by a goodreads friend. I was so thankful that she brought this book to my attention. It was one of the best books that I have read this year. I listened to the audiobook that was masterfully narrated by the author herself. Kathryn Schulz painfully, joyously and brilliantly shared her personal account of her life and included the sorrows and joys she had encountered throughout her life. I was both inspired and moved by her raw and uncensored emotions that she conveyed throughout her memoir. Lost and Found was tender, touching, beautiful, searching and thought provoking. I found myself mesmerized with her thought process, feelings and knowledge. It was brilliant that Kathryn Schulz decided to read her memoir herself.
Lost & Found was divided into three distinct parts. Part I was Lost. I related to Kathryn Schulz’s initial fear of losing her beloved father, having lost both of my parents. My own father was only 67 when he died. He was my rock and voice of reason. My mother died at the age of 82. She was my best friend. Both losses were extremely hard on me. I related to Kathryn Schulz’s fear of her father’s imminent death, her grieving process, questions, memories and the realization that she would never again be able to share experiences, and feelings of sadness, discovery or joy with her beloved father who she so admired, respected and loved. This part of Lost & Found touched me deeply.
The second part of Lost & Found was Found. This part of the book made me feel so happy for Kathryn. She unexpectedly found the love of her life, her soulmate. Kathryn Schulz so tenderly described and shared how she and her partner met, grew together and discovered a love so strong for one another. It did not matter that their upbringings and religious beliefs were so vastly opposite. Their mutual love, respect and admiration for each other was stronger than any of those other trivial things. I smiled a lot during this part of the book and shed a few tears as well. The third part of the book was &. This part brought both the first and second part together.
Lost & Found: A Memoir by Kathryn Schulz was exquisitely written. It was told straight from the author’s heart. Lost & Found was beautiful and profoundly moving. I found myself with tears in my eyes, actually weeping at some parts and smiling at other parts. I was completely in awe with the author’s ability to describe what it means to be human…to be able to feel, express, love, loose, suffer and live. I loved every part of this beautiful memoir and highly recommend it. -
A profound and moving memoir that caused me to reflect on my own losses and experience of grief. Kathryn Schulz writes about how "grief is too unreliable and the overall condition too chameleon to track with ant certainty."
Recognizing that we are done grieving is tricky, as grief has a way of showing up seemingly out of the blue with an unexpected triggered memory at a point in time far beyond what might be considered appropriate for grief according to modern society.
One day, we retroactively realize our grief has faded and we continue to move forward carry our loss within us. "This is the fundamental paradox of loss: it never disappears."
There are many beautiful passages, however this one is my favorite and the one Schulz leaves us with:
"Our crossing is a brief one, best spent bearing witness to all that we see: honoring what we find noble, tending what we know needs our care, recognizing that we are inseparably connected to all of it, including what is not yet upon us, including what is already gone. We are here to keep watch, not to keep." -
Like everyone else who picks up Lost & Found, I'm a huge fan of Schulz's New Yorker work, including the essays on which this book is based. But as with
her first book, I struggled to maintain interest here. There's gorgeous writing throughout, both talking about losing her father and finding her spouse, but Schulz's efforts to broaden the scope are only mildly successful. The story of meeting and falling in love with
"C." is sweet . . . but so is anyone's story of meeting and falling in love. And Schulz characterizes herself and C., and the two of them as a couple, so winningly that it's borderline irritating—no one is this perfect! Anyway, Lost & Found is an opportunity to spend time in Schulz's delightful company, so it's hardly a waste. But there's something to be said for the space constraints of a magazine format. -
Schulz’s beautiful memoir about losing her father and falling in love are not unique stories. However, Schulz’s excellent writing takes both of these events to a different level—one that is philosophical about the experiences of personal grief and finding one’s life partner. She reminds us of the brevity of life and why the loss of a loved one forces us to consider our mortality and place in the world. Life is the great impermanence. Love allows us to find that world richer and more wondrous.
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Impressive, Informative, and Poignant Writing
SUMMARY
Eighteen months before Kathryn Schulz’s beloved father died of cancer at the age of 74, she met the woman she would marry. In Lost & Found, she weaves the stories of those relationships into an exploration of how all our lives are shaped by both loss and discovery.
Schulz describes her father as a charming, brilliant, absentminded Jewish refugee; and her partner as an equally brilliant farmer’s daughter and devout Christian, both of whom form the foundation for Lost & Found. But it is the and symbol in the middle of her title that made Schultz decide to write this book. She explores how private happiness can coexist with global catastrophe, how we get irritated with those we adore, and how love and loss are unavoidably inseparable. Her book is described as “part memoir, part guidebook to living in a world that is simultaneously full of wonder and joy and wretchedness and suffering—a world that always demands both our gratitude and our grief.”
REVIEW
Schultz adroitly explores how the meaning of “to lose” has expanded over the years. In her analysis, she created a never-ending list of all the things she has lost over her lifetime, like a letter from her grandmother or a threadbare blue plaid shirt. She runs down the “far extremity of what it is possible to lose,” such as our life savings, our job, or the custody of our children. She discovered that some losses are actually positive such as being lost in thought or a book or a conversation.” But for the most part, she says, “our losses lie closer in spirit to the death of my father, in that they diminish our lives.” Our losses she says “encompass both the trivial as well as the consequential, the abstract and the concrete, the merely misplaced and the permanently gone.”
Schultz also keenly explores how finding something can be delightful, rewarding, and even exhilarating. She tells us about a young boy named Billy and how he found a falling star walking across a field one night. Finding, she says, takes one of two forms: recovery of something previously lost; or discovery of something we have never seen before. She observes that sometimes we find things by purposely looking for them, and other times we find things by pure luck, like when she met the love of her life.
Schulz’s engaging stories of her father, her partner, and Billy capture your attention from the beginning. Lost & Found is insightful and evocative. Many of her stories brought back memories of my own mother’s death over 28 years ago. I, too, had experienced a great loss, but the birth of my son nine months earlier was that same counterbalancing Schultz described when she found the woman she would subsequently marry. And much like Schultz, when I first met my husband over 40 years ago, he and I both knew without a doubt, we had found the one we were meant to be with. We both felt as though we had known each other forever, and we were married 90 days later.
I was enthralled by her references to poetry and literature. Her writing is impressive, informative, and poignant. She blended just the right amount of personal stories with thought-provoking analysis. I spent hours reading various parts of the book to my husband. You will want to read this book more than once. I recommend this highly for anyone who has had a significant loss in their life.
KATHRYN SCHULZ is a staff writer at The New Yorker and the author of Being Wrong. She won a National Magazine Award and a Pulitzer Prize for “The Really Big One,” her article about seismic risk in the Pacific Northwest. Lost & Found grew out of “Losing Streak,” a New Yorker story that was anthologized in The Best American Essays. Her work has also appeared in The Best American Science and Nature Writing, The Best American Travel Writing, and The Best American Food Writing. A native of Ohio, she lives with her family on the Eastern Shore of Maryland.
Thanks to Netgalley and Random House for an advance reading copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Publisher Random House
Published January 11, 2022
Review
www.bluestockingreviews.com -
4.5 rounded up. Wonderful to listen and think about, audio book. It was almost beyond good and I'm already thinking about listening to it again and getting a print copy. Thanks to Olive on BookTube for this recommendation.
A book about grief and what is lost out of life when a beloved parent dies and what we can find in the mystery of falling in love. A little strangely I liked the Lost a little more than the Found but both were very, very good. A memoir of a few years in this author's life during which she loses her father and finds her partner. I found I could not put it down and felt a little lost myself when it was over and looking forward to finding the time to listen to it again. Really great on audio, don't miss it if you like memoirs. -
(3.5) Schulz is a staff writer for the New Yorker, and her 2010 book Being Wrong was my favourite kind of nonfiction: wide-ranging, erudite and uncategorizable. When I heard she’d written a bereavement memoir, I was beyond eager to read it. Her father, Isaac, was a scholarly and opinionated Polish Jew whose family emigrated from Israel via Germany to the USA in the early 1950s. Schulz grew up in the Cleveland suburbs of Ohio. Her father died at 74 after a decade of poor health. I read part of this book on the transatlantic flight to my mother’s funeral, and found the thoughts on grief so wise and true. “One of the many ways that loss instructs us is by correcting our sense of scale, showing us the world as it really is: so enormous, complex, and mysterious that there is nothing too large to be lost.”
But loss is not the end of this story; it overlaps with and is in some sense superseded by an unexpected romance. Introduced by mutual friends 18 months before her father’s death, Schulz and “C.” (fellow New Yorker writer Casey Cep) quickly fell in love and fashioned a life together on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, despite some significant differences in temperament and background – for instance, C. is a devout Lutheran while Schulz is a largely non-practicing Jew. She manages to braid this together with bereavement: “Love, like grief, has the properties of a fluid: it flows everywhere, fills any container, saturates everything.” My only slight frustration with the book was the amount of generic material on losing and finding and what other thinkers have had to say about these universal experiences – I tended to skip past it to get back to the narrative of her developing relationship with C.
Originally published on my blog,
Bookish Beck. -
This is well-written but ultimately just not for me. I enjoyed the parts that were memoir but was very bored by all the tangential discussion of philosophy, mythology, etc. I had many of the same issues with this as I did with When Breath Becomes Air (but this book is much better written than that one).
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Oh I just couldn’t finish this- I think I need a better head space to read this- very sad and depressing. Also I could not adjust to he authors writing- it was very rambling and I felt like I needed a break every few pages.
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Although this book is billed as a profound meditation on grief, this erudite,and philosophical novel is so much more. It is organized as a triptych..lost, found and "&". This beautiful and thoughtful memoir focuses firstly on her father's death and an exploration of small losses in everyday life advancing to the larger societal issues including covid, war, falling in love. The next section spotlights how love and loss can exist alongside one another as she finds the love of her life." If we cultivate equilibrium around everyday losses, we might someday be able to muster a similar serenity when we lose more important things. This deeply penetrating and multifaceted memoir is a quiet and profound winner.
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I am not a huge fan of memoir unless it is about the extraordinary feats that the unique or insane among us dare to attempt. But, this book appeared on so many "most anticipated books of 2022" lists that I felt compelled. What luck as this is a beautiful book. It's really about the ordinary....or, rather, the extraordinariness of the ordinary: love and loss. There are so many beautiful musings and allusions to history, philosophy, poetry, etc. and I found myself underlining, noting, and nodding along in remembrance of passages I had tucked back in the recesses of my brain. At the end of the day, it is a bittersweet ode to a father and a wife, and a enjoyable emotional read.
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Schulz's memoir is divided into 3 sections: Lost chronicles the death of her father and her subsequent grief. Found shares her love story with her wife. & recognizes that our lives are filled with the juxtaposition of often conflicting emotions--grief and laughter, love and anger. Schulz often dips into metaphors and historical and cultural references to describe love and loss. This was especially effective in the lost section, where she moves from the loss of things to the loss of life--a reworking of her powerful essay in The New Yorker. The expansive nature of the memoir lacks some of the potency of the article, but the additional sections of Love and especially & paint a fuller picture of the experience of living, loving, and losing. *Review by Angie from IRS*
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Lost & Found is an account of a bereavement and—not recovery from bereavement, but redirection from the paralyzing state of grief. Written by someone with a journalist’s sensibilities, it combines the personal with reasoning and context in a fine example of the essay format, a type of writing I always find enriching to read.
The book is divided into three sections—“Lost,” “Found,” and “And.” The first recounts the death of her father and the dislocations such a loss entail. Her writing painted a sharp picture of the personal aspect of this loss—I found myself mourning that I had never met her father—but also expanded the frame to a broad examination of the dynamics of loss and the role it plays in people’s lives. Schulz’s language is lucid and evocative, and she spins out her information as if telling us a story. I was mesmerized.
In “Found” I was similarly mesmerized, though for very different reasons. This section is about how she met and came to know her wife, and she spins out that story with equal skill. But it is also about the act of seeking in general, the way our quests shape us and mark us, their rewards and perils. Her thoughts are informed by poets and philosophers and psychologists and thinkers of all kinds; the personal story is tastefully told and always put to use serving the bigger picture.
The last section, “And,” is more ambitious but not quite as successful for me. It seeks to fuse the loss and the love into a way of living that focuses on connection—connection to others and to the world around us, on emotional and ethical levels. I was right there with her but felt the ghost of something missing, not sure what.
Nevertheless, I found the reading of this book to be rewarding and enlightening, and it is helping me find the emotional core of a writing project that has been fighting me for several years. Can’t ask for much more than that! -
I'm a big fan of Kathryn Schulz, so it's no surprise that I loved this memoir. It is so well researched, so compassionate, so funny, and so loving. I found myself looking forward to reading it again while still not done with the first pass through.
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What an astonishingly beautiful reflection on the complexity of life’s most humbling paradox: the interconnectivity of grief and love.
I hung on every thread of story and how Schulz deftly wove each into her reflective, poignant narrative themes.
Seriously just spectacular. Gorgeous writing held within a wonderfully crafted container. Compelling observations that made me pause and sit in wonder. Emotionally moving. Thoughtful and deeply grounded in two of my personal highest values: gratitude and attention.
“It is the feeling of registering, on the basis of some slight exposure, our existential condition: how lovely life is, and how fragile, and how fleeting.”
It’s difficult to explain how resonant — how near and dear to my heart this book truly was.
I'd give this ten stars if I could... and a found meteorite, too.
Serious new contender for favorite memoir ever. LOVE. -
Luminously beautiful. Just the book I needed right now. Schulz’s meditations on grief have given words to the difficult feelings that I have been living with over the past few weeks - and expect to experience in the coming weeks, months, years. A beautiful meditation on the contrast and marriage of love and loss.
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There is everything right with this book and yet it didn't land for me. The writing is great. The idea is great. The author is smart and so is the way this book unfolds, and yet it was just okay for me. This book is very much a meditation, and I couldn't quiet feel pulled in enough to stay and absorb. The first section was my favorite.
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As is true for most everyone, I have experienced grief and I have experienced love. Kathryn Schulz writes about both beautifully!
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**Update: I am settling on a ⭐⭐⭐ rating.
ORIGINAL POST:
I'm going to let this one sit for a bit before committing to a rating... It's somewhere between a 3-4 for me. Here's why...
This book was beautifully written and thought-provoking, filled with page after page of so much grief and so much beauty (because don't the two often go hand in hand?). I just can't put my finger on why I felt so disconnected from the author. It could have something to do with the fact that my own experience of grieving a dying parent looked very different from Schultz's experience, which felt very mature and polished even on her darkest days. I, on the other hand, was a total mess. I'm not so naive as to think all grief does or should look the same.... her story/process is her own to share. But something in the tone of this book felt condescending to me, like this is the way grieving *should* be done. I'd like to process this a bit more, as my own internal frustration and reactivity toward this book is where I'm finding myself hung up on my rating.
I particularly enjoyed Part 3 of the book, titled "And". The way she tied together concepts of connectedness and spirituality with losing and finding love.... Beautifully done. Schultz is an absolutely brilliant writer and I am eager to read more of her work as a journalist for The New Yorker. -
This book is personal and philosophical, sort of a cross between a metaphysical and scholarly exploration of grief, falling in love, and how things are connected in the world. The writing is beautiful, with a constellation of SAT vocabulary words. I recommend this if you enjoy reading grief memoirs, love stories, or if you are the kind of person who would read a history of the ampersand in The New Yorker.
It is a strange feature of how our minds work that the more wildly improbable some welcome development is, the more it feels like it was meant to be. Confronted by a surprising find, we also feel ourselves confronted by the governing forces of the universe.
