There are few times in my reading travels where I don't have a good idea whether I like a book halfway through. In the case of Megan Marshall's After Lives, I still couldn't tell you what it was about halfway through. This is generally a very bad omen. However, this is one of those rare instances where this is the point and it works. (For the only other example where this has been true for me, please see The Strangers' House by Alexander Poots.)

My shtick is to keep my reviews as lighthearted as possible while conveying my love for non-fiction. I never want to sound like a professional reviewer because there are plenty of those who will pontificate on deeper meanings well beyond my capacity. However, Marshall has defeated me with this one. I, unfortunately, am forced to be sincere. Now please give me a moment to put on my professor's jacket with the elbow patches while I light my tobacco pipe. (I'm kidding. Don't smoke, kids.)

This is however, all Megan Marshall's fault. She tells the reader so much without saying anything too directly. This book is a memoir, travelogue, true crime, love story, and biography. It also does not meet the traditional standards of many of these genres. Every chapter is a vignette about something, someone, or some time in Marshall's life. She is less of a main character and more of an observer to the world around her. She shuns navel gazing and avoids making herself the main character. She is the only person in every chapter, but she continually points the spotlight somewhere in her vicinity. She sneaks huge moments into stories about something completely different. For instance, her chapter on a short residency in Japan feels like a travelogue. However, when you least expect it, her love for her dearly departed partner, Scott, is told tangentially until a poignant sentence spoken by him before his death hits the reader between the eyes. It felt throughout the book that Marshall was almost hiding her intent in each chapter in the hope the reader will see the subtext so close to the surface.

To put a fine point on this review, I finished After Lives but am still thinking about it. Is it also a meditation on death or is a meditation on life just before death? I am sure this won't be the last question I ask myself. While I still couldn't give you a short summary to encapsulate the entire book, I can tell you that you should read it. Just because it defies a neat label does not mean there isn't plenty to make you think.

(This book was provided as an advance copy by Netgalley and Mariner Books.)