Ever finished a book, flipped to the last page, closed it, set it on the desk in front of you and felt like you were waking from a dream? Still Alice is that sort of book. I finished it at Cugini's Cafe this morning, the hour I spent reading oblivious to my surroundings, pulled so far into the book I felt the raw tension of a life steadily pulled apart by Alzheimer's. I felt almost a part of the story, as lost in Alice's mind as she was, gripping the pages I turned, tense without knowing why. I left after the last paragraph, full of Alice's pain and loss, holding back tears. I was so struck with this powerful story I struggled to focus on driving home.Still Alice is a remarkable look into how Alzheimer's ravages the mind and the relationships it effects. Out of the 45 books I've read this year, it reaches what so few of the others have: perfection.
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