THIS ROOM IS YOURS (Permanent Press, 2004)

His mother's memory is failing. On an impulse he does not entirely understand, the narrator of "This Room Is Yours" moves her near his home and finds himself deeply and despairingly involved in her day-to-day life. Mother and son are resistant, both fighting against a kind of shared captivity while trying to save their own independence. Through a series of startling revelations and an exploration of family history, their struggles intersect.

 

 

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Praise for THIS ROOM IS YOURS

"Moving without a hint of sentimentality; an extremely sad and emotionally realistic tale of normal, troubled life." Kirkus Reviews

"At one level this is a beautifully crafted narrative of the human devastation wreaked by Alzheimer's disease. We are privy to the gradual disintegration of an interesting and mysterious woman and we see how she employs her defense mechanisms--charm, caginess, and all the rest--to ward off the approaching void. At a deeper lever we accompany the narrator on his journey of discovery, as his duty-driven relationship with his mother results in surprising new insights about the person she was, and eventually changes the nature of their bond-perhaps it would be safe to call it 'love.'" Jack Coulehan

"Stein’s prose is deceptively simple in its ability to lure us into his story. The tone is at times conspiratorial, as if the narrator is making journal entries; at other times reflective, as the narrator/son tries to make sense of what is happening to him and to his mother. The incidents he relates are, for the most part, small, ordinary happenings, but Stein’s admirable craft is to zero in on the details. And he has drawn an unforgettable picture of the feistiness and resilience of someone who is in the throes of losing who she is. With deft pacing and skillful variations in tone, that it leaves you walking through your own memories of child-parent interactions is testimony to its quiet power." The Phoenix

 

Stein's fourth novel (after 2000's The Lynching Tree) is a sensitive meditation on the trials of caring for a deteriorating parent. The story begins as the unnamed narrator arranges for his estranged mother to move into a retirement community near his home, where "every vent... blew hot air that smelled like pot roast." His visits are regular, perfunctory and emotionally confusing: "I could now tell my mother all my most private thoughts because she would remember none of them." At first uncertain only about names and dates, his mother eventually needs constant supervision and care. Poignantly, the narrator grows closer to her, cultivating forgiveness for a childhood filled with betrayal and abandonment, and nurturing a love he has not felt in decades. Stein paints a clear, insightful portrait of the frustrations and indignities experienced by Alzheimer's sufferers and caregivers alike, and he also muses on the craft of writing itself. In regular interludes labeled "Reader's Guide," the narrator questions aspects of his story, including his choice of viewpoint, tone and form. These interruptions are odd, but offer a surprising intimacy: "Imagine the literary problems set before an author who wants to write a narrative about Alzheimer's disease," he writes. But Stein's prose is always sharp and assured, even in its moments of query. - Publishers Weekly