Maybe redemption is not a place you find, but a system of mapmaking.
John West made a name for himself with Pulitzer-nominated technology reporting for the Wall Street Journal. But with this newly released memoir, he can add the poet-philosopher feather to his cap with prose such as this line that captures the ineffable with beauty and truth; depression is a moon in a perfect orbit, always moving, never closer to or further from its object, which is my own broken self. It is precisely this ability to square off against his own demons that helps me as a reader understand those less articulate loved ones in my own orbit who share similar struggles.
The story, told in fractured time, chronicles the roller coaster of a mood disorder exacerbated by alcoholism amid his coming-of-age confusion over sexual identity and eventual joy in fatherhood. It is the story of a classical musician who is both atheistic and obsessed with Christmas carols, a story that is by turns desperately sad and inexplicably hopeful as the holiday he loves. Neither heavy-handed nor halting, this succinct account merely illustrates a miracle of personal reformation.
At under 200 pages, many of which contain a scant sentence, this is a quick read for the serious and searching mind. [William B. Eerdmans Publishing]. A brief author interview is available here.