Notes to John

by Joan Didion

An extraordinary work from the author of The Year of Magical Thinking and Blue Nights

In November 1999, Joan Didion began seeing a psychiatrist because, as she wrote to a friend, her family had had “a rough few years.” She described the sessions in a journal she created for her husband, John Gregory Dunne.

For several months, Didion recorded conversations with the psychiatrist in meticulous detail. The initial sessions focused on alcoholism, adoption, depression, anxiety, guilt, and the heartbreaking complexities of her relationship with her daughter, Quintana. The subjects evolved to include her work, which she was finding difficult to maintain for sustained periods. There were discussions about her own childhood—misunderstandings and lack of communication with her mother and father, her early tendency to anticipate catastrophe—and the question of legacy, or, as she put it, “what it’s been worth.” The analysis would continue for more than a decade.

Didion’s journal was crafted with the singular intelligence, precision, and elegance that characterize all of her writing. It is an unprecedently intimate account that reveals sides of her that were unknown, but the voice is unmistakably hers—questioning, courageous, and clear in the face of a wrenchingly painful journey.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, Mental Health, Biography, Essays, Audiobook, Psychology

224 pages, Hardcover

First published April 22, 2025

About the author

Joan Didion was an American writer and journalist. She is considered one of the pioneers of New Journalism along with Gay Talese, Hunter S. Thompson, and Tom Wolfe.
Didion's career began in the 1950s after she won an essay contest sponsored by Vogue magazine. Over the course of her career, Didion wrote essays for many magazines, including The Saturday Evening Post, Life, Esquire, The New York Review of Books and The New Yorker. Her writing during the 1960s through the late 1970s engaged audiences in the realities of the counterculture of the 1960s, the Hollywood lifestyle, and the history and culture of California. Didion's political writing in the 1980s and 1990s often concentrated on the subtext of political rhetoric and the United States's foreign policy in Latin America. In 1991, she wrote the earliest mainstream media article to suggest the Central Park Five had been wrongfully convicted. In 2005, Didion won the National Book Award for Nonfiction and was a finalist for both the National Book Critics Circle Award and the Pulitzer Prize for The Year of Magical Thinking, a memoir of the year following the death of her husband, writer John Gregory Dunne. She later adapted the book into a play that premiered on Broadway in 2007. In 2013, she was awarded the National Humanities Medal by president Barack Obama. Didion was profiled in the Netflix documentary The Center Will Not Hold, directed by her nephew Griffin Dunne, in 2017.

Reviews

[emma · Rating 4 out of 5]

sometimes, the moral questions around a book can be as rich and interesting as the experience of reading it.

that’s the case with NOTES TO JOHN, the recent posthumous release by joan didion.

https://www.instagram.com/p/DJ9U-Ewu_P2/

this little book is a lightly edited transcription of a notebook containing extremely private conversations between didion and her therapist.

in subject matter and in concept, the mind reels — how could publishing this book, about which didion left no notes to her publisher, possibly be ethically acceptable? this book, which contains a woman’s grief, and her complicated (often jarring) thoughts about her daughter, and things she wrote about alongside things she avoided all her life.

at first, i thought i could never allow myself to read this. which was a bummer because i really wanted to.

but then i thought about it more. this book was left with didion’s writing materials, filed with papers referencing MY YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING and BLUE NIGHTS, the books she wrote about her husband’s and daughter’s passing.

it, like all of didion’s papers, was slated to be given to the new york public library, where it would have been accessed and analyzed and likely to some degree published no matter what beginning in march. (let it be said here that i think pop-science-esque “criticism” like DIDION AND BABITZ is more of a crime than the author’s own words ever could be.)

but really, it comes down to the author herself. much has been made of didion’s commitment to her art and to her legacy, and based on everything i’ve known and read of her, it’s my opinion that she never would have neatly left anything she didn’t intend to contribute to her canon. so i picked it up.

and, for me, this was a propulsive read.

"i'd read her grocery list" is a common phrase on this site, and one i'd apply myself to joan didion. her every move always seemed so considered, each word the exact right one for its moment, each book building upon the legacy she'd constructed for herself.

until i picked this up.

it's an almost breathless rendering of the therapy sessions didion had about her daughter, trying to save their relationship in the hopes it'd save her. though they're addressed to john, her husband, in truth he was present at several of them, didn't need the notes. the idea that the impenetrable didion needed to construct a purpose in order to document these unbearably vulnerable sessions is just one of the many heartrending things about this book.

this was the first time in a very long time i've read anything with a pen in hand, underlining voraciously, propelling myself through this and knowing the heartbreak that waited just a few months after its conclusion. the dramatic irony of what we know as readers makes this a cruel read, but its value as an addition to didion's work speaks for itself.

its publication just months after the bitter, vapid book i mention above is sweet and satisfying. didion was private, not unfeeling; anxious, depressed, desperate to do right by those she loved, far from cold. 

bottom line: this insight into the mind of one of our greatest writers is a treasure.

(thank you to the publisher for the copy)

[Deniss · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm of the opinion that this book shouldn't exist but I don't think I'm strong enough not to read it.

**

Update:

I read the book, as I knew I would. And I'm still not sure what to think of it. For almost half of it I felt like there was no way Joan wouldn't have wanted this published, that it was so raw, so painful, that she would have destroyed any evidence of these notes before dying if she had truly never intended for them to see the light. She was that kind of person; anyone familiar with her work would know that. So I convinced myself that she wanted this, but that she couldn’t bear to see it published while she was still alive. These notes remove the opaque cloth she used to cover and protect Quintana from the world, even after writing a whole book about losing her. And it also exposes things about herself that she didn't tell anyone, particularly about her health, aging and money. So it made sense to wait, right? It made sense not telling anyone about these pages so no one would have to even read them while she was still here. Well, I'm not so sure anymore.

In general, every page of this little book is filled with intense worrying for her then 34-year-old daughter and trying to help her recover from her alcoholism, analyzing every detail about anything she said or did, navigating multiple emergencies, AA meetings, supporting her financially, neglecting her own health to look after Quintana's, even going back to Joan's childhood (under the guidance of a Freudian psychiatrist that I honestly didn't like, and who often seemed to exacerbate Didion's anxieties and guilt) to search for clues that could help her understand her relationship with her daughter better, all in order to save her. And while reading it, I felt very sad knowing it was all in vain.

At the end, the only certain thing is this: we will never know what she really wanted. I don't think she even knew it herself. The pages were there, she didn't destroy them, and the final decision wasn't hers. I don't regret reading this, but I'm not sure we as readers really needed to. I hope I didn't disrespect her memory by doing so, and I also hope that she's with John and Quintana now.

[talia ♡]

new reason to live just dropped

[leah · Rating 4 out of 5]

there’s been a lot of discourse around the publication of this book, and i’m still in two minds about it, even though this ambivalence around posthumous publishing is nothing new. but when this book was announced, i knew i was likely going to read it as i’m such a joan didion fan.

this book is transcripts from didion’s sessions with a psychiatrist she started seeing in 1999, seemingly recorded to keep her husband john up to date on the sessions. the therapy sessions mainly centre on didion’s relationship with her daughter, quintana, as she attempts to support her through her alcoholism and examine the impact it’s having on her own life. the book is very intimate and raw, and supplies context to much of didion’s work. it especially functions well as a companion piece to didion’s memoirs ‘the year of magical thinking’ and ‘blue nights’, which detail her husband’s death and quintana’s death respectively.

since first reading didion’s work i’ve always resonated with her, but from reading this i realised i’m a lot more like her than i originally thought. i underlined a lot of didion’s musings that i found particularly relatable.

[Theo Logos · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is a new experience for me — a Joan Didion book that I did not finish. This book shouldn’t exist. It was taken from private diary notes discovered after Didion died, notes that chronicle her intensely private therapy sessions while dealing with her daughter’s addiction and her fears that she would lose her. This is intensely private, personal material that Didion did not publish, had not prepared for publication — it was never intended for the public. I felt unclean reading it, like I was hiding in the closet listening to her therapy sessions.

Didion, as always, is masterful in her use of language, even when writing what was intended only for her own eyes. But reading it felt like a transgression. Perhaps this material excerpted and used second hand could be useful in a biography, but reading the originals here just felt wrong to me.

[kimberly · Rating 5 out of 5]

the musings in this book reveal so much of the mystery behind her novels’ subplots and characters and makes so much of her fiction—non fiction too, obviously—just click. didion was like us: a woman, a writer, a mother, a wife, anxious, doubting, loving, and incredible. reading these journal entries doesn’t at all feel prying; it feels like information didion intentionally left us so that we could continue the conversation. as a fan, it’s the most incredibly devastating thing i have read in a long time.

[nathan]

Didion has always meant a great deal to me. She taught me how to write. How to closely look at the world. When a great love of mine was hospitalized, she taught me how to look at words, the details, to jot everything down, even if misspelled, and check through them later. Take what you don’t understand. Record it. And then make it make sense. The horrifying was horrifying. Sleepless nights. Caring for the family. Work. School. Putting bread on the table. Applying to colleges. Words blurred, and so did the world. But it was Didion who taught me to sound them out, jot them down, spell check later. Look up terminology. Unfortunately, I lost that great love. Grief overrode me. It was The Year of Magical Thinking that made things clear. Blue Nights too. It was through her losses that I could make sense of my own. I never moved on, but was helped through it. It was through her acute observations that I was more gentle with myself, and then the world.

In such a small woman, she had a strong grasp of her words. Gentle, but maternal, like a bitch bite pup grip. There was always this impenetrable shield over herself and her writing. Everything at a distance. Cold. But wafts through with so much truth that you can’t help but surrender to the beauty of language and the accuracy of it. This happens in her fiction too. The shield. The inability to pierce through it.

Impossible to rate, it reveals so much. The smoke and mirror of the prose she hid behind is cast down and you can see what falls through the cracks. Finances. Faults. About her mother and father. Childhood. What scarred her. So much of how her parents loved her (or lack of it) revealed how she parented, her presence (or lack of it), and, ultimately, her daughter.

A lot reveals why the mother-daughter trope always shows up in her fiction. She was doing it to work things out. FIghts. Sorrows. How to let be. Let go. All these notes make me want to go back to her fiction to see it all a little more clearly.

Because it’s always her words that I return to. For the New Year, there is always a rereading of 𝘖𝘯 𝘚𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘙𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵. It’s tradition. I upkeep it because her words have an immense importance over me. One that weighs me down at the center, where it all holds, and where I can see the world a little more clearly, no matter the hurt, no matter the struggle.

[Alena Kharchanka · Rating 2 out of 5]

Lo he abandonado definitivamente.

Las dos estrellas no son para Didion (nunca son para Didion). De hecho, si este libro se salva es porque es Joan. Las dos estrellas (por no poner una) es para la industria editorial y los herederos de ella (sus sobrinos) que se lucran de su arte, permitiendo publicar algo tan íntimo. Me parece un acto bastante inhumano.

[Fawn Parker]

Hard to rate and feel unsure about the ethics of publishing/reading a book like this. Let this review serve as an extension of my will in saying: please future nephews, do not publish my private journals!

[Francisca · Rating 4 out of 5]

Abordar el alcoholismo no es fácil. Abordar la maternidad tampoco lo es. Y Abordarse como paciente psiquiátrica mucho menos. Joan Didion dejó estas notas, estos diarios, para su marido, aunque este moriría antes de que él pudiera leerlas. Son apuntes íntimos de sus sesiones en terapia en relación al alcoholismo que sufriría su hija Quintana, y no solo, sino que nos habla también de la vida de Joan, de su infancia, de su psique y de su rol como madre y también hija. Estas notas requieren valentía para leerlas ––no es fácil ver cómo tu hija se destroza la vida por el alcohol, aunque luego revistiese una recuperación; no es fácil la vida de Didion en el sentido de que tuvo que ser dura y de hecho ella no era muy emocional lo que hace de estos diarios más digeribles de leer.

Didion tomaba Zoloft (sertralina) un antidepresivo el cual le costaba tragar, no por su tamaño, sino porque tenía algún tipo de trauma con las pastillas. Mientras lo tomaba, estuvo visitando al psiquiatra Roger MacKinnon. Y su hija al Dr. Kass. No serían fáciles las sesiones, ni antes, ni durante, ni después de ellas. Me atrevería a decir que Didion fue tan dura como pudo serlo, tan terca y tan en sus cabales como debió de ser. Ayudó en lo posible a su hija para que tratara su alcoholismo, de hecho, estaría yendo a Alcóholicos Anónimos durante una buena temporada. Pero parecía que nada bastaba. Quintana era fotógrafa en Elle Decor, pero la despedirian. El caso es que las vidas de Joan y Quintana se vieron torpemente influenciadas la una con la otra por el exceso de preocupación que tenían la una con la otra. Es algo muy normal. Luchar contra el alcohol saca a cualquiera de sus casillas, tanto al que lo padece como a quien se preocupa.

Las sesiones eran densas y profundas, sacando así Joan Didion un profundo aprendizaje de ella misma, de su hija, e incluso de su relación con su ascendencia. ¿De qué manera ella se plantaba en ella? ¿Qué aspectos debía trabajar? Sin duda las relaciones materno-filiales distan mucho de unas a otras. Didion viajaría mucho durante su infancia, iría a muchos colegios, y según el psiquiatra esto le crearía un trauma a la hora de socializar, pero no fue así, no del todo. Sí sabemos que Didion hizo lo posible por salir de su depresión, que aunque no fue muy profunda, la mermó. Basta leerla para notar la melancolía que supuran estas entradas de diario, estos apuntes para John, estas notas sobre ella y su hija. Sin duda su hija debería de sentirse orgullosa de la madre que tenía por lo mucho y muy pendiente, en su justa medida, que Didion estaba de ella.

Estamos ante un libro que trata las relaciones materno-filiales, las relaciones entre paciente y psiquiatra, las relaciones entre nosotros mismos y el mundo. No es un libro fácil ni un libro al uso, de hecho se habla de la ética de publicar algo así, tan profundamente íntimo que nos hace pensar a fondo en nuestra psique y en ver a una Joan Didion que lejos de mitificar la hacemos parte de nuestra familia, parte de nosotros, parte de esa especie llamada humanidad. Joan Didion sufrió, Quintana sufrió, John sufrió... Nadie sale indemne de la vida material y orgánica a la que estamos destinados a habitar. Vivir era esto, preocuparse por otros. Y no solo, sino también intentar salir de esos estados depresivos, que dice el psiquiatra que es un hábito de la mente. Pero cómo salir de eso, me pregunto. Si la respuesta fuera tan sencilla no habría tanta depresión en la vida, ¿es la vida la que nos amedrenta con ella? Digamos que la depresión tiene un carácter genético, pero también del entorno y también de la manera en que nos tomamos las cosas.

[Dulce Hernandez · Rating 5 out of 5]

such a perfect companion piece to the year of magical thinking and blue nights. i'd always read how much of a unit joan and john were, but this truly illustrated how deeply they revered each other. i started tearing up at the part where joan mentioned quintana was worried about what would happen to her if she lost john. this book also gave such deeper insight into joan's relationship with quintana and the complexity of the mother-daughter bond they had. there were so many bits and pieces where i could see how joan's life had even influenced her fiction work. truly so special to be able to start connecting the puzzle pieces. joan forever.

[emily]

To 'echo' what others have 'said', this doesn't feel 'right' to read/publish. But regardless, I (couldn't help it and) did. Not sure how I feel about it, explores rather 'heavy' thoughts throughout.

[quim]

Ella no ho hauria publicat mai

[sologdin · Rating 2 out of 5]

The critique of this text that it is unedited personal notes by Didion to JG Dunne, mostly concerning their daughter's mental health and substance abuse, is not without merit. That said, there is a complexity here, of Didion drafting quick post-therapy notes after her own psychoanalysis sessions, addressed to Dunne, referring casually to a number of items that go without explanation. It certainly pulls the curtain back a bit.

The value is in the recitation of intelligent and self-aware psychotherapeutic dialogue. The physician's comments are good, but she comes across in some ways as a model patient--introspective, open-minded to discussion, recalling things from the prior session and thinking about them in preparation for the next, willing to examine a difficult past. The daughter's substance abuse is the core issue, and it's brutal, the regular roll call of addict bullshit. It's helpful to see that those patterns are fairly general and predictable.

I wonder what professionals in the field make of this.

[cass krug]

i don’t think i can rate this one - not because i didn’t get something from it, but just because it feels weird to assign a value to someone’s therapy notes? even after reading the year of magical thinking twice and blue nights once, the last pages of this book that talk about joan losing both her husband and daughter in such a short period of time still felt like a gut punch. notes to john works perfectly as a companion piece to those two memoirs, especially blue nights. even within these personal notes, didion still sounds like didion. however, we get a much deeper insight into events throughout her entire life that affected her, maybe some of the reasoning behind her detached writing style. the conversations she had with her therapist about how love and worry go together for her hit hard for me, i think a lot of people will be able to take some sort of lesson from these notes.

[Philemon - · Rating 3 out of 5]

Joan Didion's stiffly written accounts of her psychiatry sessions in 2000, a time when she was fretting mostly about her 34-year old daughter Quintana Roo, who was in a period of recent job loss and uncontrolled drinking and who would later become comatose and die tragically from a sudden infection. One oddity in the session notes is that Didion almost never mentions or addresses her husband, for whom the notes were nominally written. Another is that not once does she refer to her public persona. What comes across is the portrait of someone compulsively striving to control her life, and brimming with guilt and doubt about any decisions she tries to make. In a somewhat surprising contrast to her famously strong, unique writing style, she comes across as basically unsure who she is.

Needless to say, readers' conclusions should take into account Didion's filtering of the material while writing it down and, perhaps even more s0, that of her posthumous editors under likely direction from her heirs.

[eleonora reggiori]

Questo diario non avrebbe mai dovuto essere pubblicato

[Jaclyn]

I’m conflicted about this book’s very existence. I’ve had to convince myself that if Didion didn’t want it in the public realm she would have destroyed these notes. In any case, I read it and loved it. If you are obsessed therapy tv shows like In Treatment and Couples Therapy and books like Maybe You Should Talk to Someone, this is the book for you. The repeated patterns of behaviour between Joan, her husband John and their alcoholic daughter Quintana broke my heart again and again. The various attachment issues between them appear so obvious and so hard to heal. Didion’s fears for her daughter and her inability to trust 34-year-old Quintana play out in all sorts of interesting and terrible ways. I could have kissed her psychiatrist Robert MacKinnon as he forensically works to get to the root cause of it all. The audiobook is read by Julianne Moore.

[Glenn · Rating 5 out of 5]

Harrowing, heartbreaking.

I knew Quintana slightly in the late 90s, when she was at Elle Decor. I was down the hall at Premiere. She had a very boisterous personality, a loud laugh. Very different bearing than that of her parents. Oddly, there's no indication of that here, along any lines. Her weight comes up a bit. Like I said, odd. But not a detriment to the depiction of desperation — John's, Joan's and Quintana's — here.

[Daphne Margeridis · Rating 5 out of 5]

**Incoming Essay of Evolving Thoughts**

"....you cant save her life now, only she can that. Its not useful to lay on her that she has to live to keep you alive."

Sometimes, the ethical questions surrounding a book prove more compelling than the book itself—and with Notes to John, I find myself grappling with that very notion.

As someone long captivated by Joan Didion’s work, I picked up this posthumous release without fully considering the emotional and moral complexities it might stir. The discomfort, the backlash, the questions of consent—those came later. But once I began reading, I was struck by how deeply intimate this book is—perhaps more so than anything Didion published during her lifetime.

The sessions between Joan and her therapist are raw and unfiltered, delving into her competing thoughts on depression, loss, addiction, her daughter, Quintana, and of course, her husband, John Gregory Dunne. These are not the polished, dreamlike reflections of "The Year of Magical Thinking" or "Blue Nights". They are jagged, vulnerable, and at times, painfully direct. And yet, they are unmistakably Didion—precise, observant, and deeply human.

The tone throughout, especially in relation to Quintana, seemed to foreshadow her untimely death—as though Joan had an inkling that her daughter’s life would be short-lived. The struggle, the depth of thought surrounding her daughter, was truly heartbreaking.

This brings us to the ethical dilemma: Should we be reading this? Is it right to consume something so personal—something Joan may never have intended for public eyes? But then again, is that ours to decide? Literary history is full of posthumous publications -Persuasion by Austen, The Trial by Kafka, The Diary of Anne Frank etc. Why is Notes to John different? Is it simply because of its emotional nakedness?

We know Joan through what she wrote. She chronicled her life with a clarity and honesty that few writers ever achieve. And while we can’t know her intentions with certainty, it’s worth noting that this manuscript was found among her writing materials—papers that, though long untouched, were surely created with purpose. They were meant to be archived, studied, and perhaps, eventually shared.

I read an article for The Harvard Crimson that stated:

“Not only does this publication disrespect Didion’s authority, but it brings her legacy into question. For the last 10 years of her life, Didion stopped writing. She had the chance to write and publish more, but she didn’t. This suggests, at least, that Didion was satisfied with what had been published, and if she wanted to write more, let alone publish previous writing, she would have. Publishing Notes to John, regardless of the upcoming public reception of the work itself, forcefully refuses Didion the ability to manage her own literary legacy.”

I’m not so sure I agree. I understand the message and the force behind the criticism, but I believe it fails to recognize the echo that Notes to John represents in Didion’s life’s work. She was a woman who dedicated her life to her most intimate, gut-wrenching thoughts. I just can’t believe she would feel entirely disrespected by the idea of this being published.

So while I understand the criticism, I also believe this book offers something rare: a final, unvarnished glimpse into the mind of a woman who shaped the way we think about grief, memory, and identity. It’s not an easy read—nor should it be. But it is a necessary one. For those of us who have followed Joan’s voice through decades of brilliance, this feels like a closing chapter we didn’t know we needed.

I believe this was undoubtedly not published during Joan’s lifetime because of the sheer intensity of the thoughts surrounding her daughter—the helplessness she felt, the ways in which she couldn’t save her. God knows the guilt Didion carried after Quintana’s passing. I, too, might have chosen not to share those thoughts—at least not initially, or perhaps not ever. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want others to understand my struggle. Joan was generous in that way. She gave us herself, even when it hurt.

In the end, Notes to John is not just a book. It’s a question. And like all great Didion works, it leaves us sitting with the discomfort, the beauty, and the ache of not having all the answers.

[Dannie · Rating 4 out of 5]

brief entries written during a time when she and her husband were trying to manage their daughter’s mental illness and addiction. i found blue nights to be so emotionally distant (same with the year of magical thinking) and this redeemed that.

Whether or not she would have wanted these pages published is up for debate, but for readers who have followed Didion’s career and wondered what lay behind her famously controlled prose and curated version of herself, this book offers that glimpse.

[Anastasiia Mozghova · Rating 5 out of 5]

i feel guilty about having read these notes which probably should have never been published, but i am also grateful for what this experience gave me. observing someone's psychotherapy and the process of discovering the right questions is fascinating.

[Teya Diya]

Not sure if Didion would’ve ever wanted these notes to see the light of day, but they’re beautiful, deeply moving, and a little heartbreaking. Highly recommend them to parents — not just those of troubled kids — as well as to anyone who’s lost someone to depression or addiction, and to those currently struggling. Also: to therapists, analysts, and their patients. It’s yet another reminder that words can heal — even years later, even when they weren’t meant for us.

[Jennifer · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this because I’m a stereotypical lit girl and love Joan Didion — sue me! However, I do have an issue with this being published, particularly because these were her private notes on therapy, not an outline for a book. Given how notoriously private she was at times and about certain aspects of her life, it does feel like a violation of her privacy, as well as Quintana’s, to make a book out of this. However, greedy companies must continue to feed the capitalist machine, so here we are.

One of the things that struck me most about this emotionally was the slog Didion must have been experiencing. Even as a reader, the up and down of Quintana’s alcoholism was tough. I imagine it’s that way dealing with any loved one with addiction issues of any kind. You can never truly settle because you never know if a good day will be followed by a very bad one, and that constant up and down is exhausting and demoralising. It must have been incredibly difficult to deal with.

It also made me realise how much of psychiatry is a bit overly indulgent. No doubt Dr. McKinnon gave Joan some good things to think about, but sometimes, as they say, “it is what it is.” Not everything has a deep rooted meaning or significance; sometimes people are the way they are regardless of how they were raised, their genetic, etc - it’s the human condition! I would have found the whole thing very exhausting (though I have to say that therapy, on the other hand, I think is more beneficial).

Glad to have read this, but also glad for it to be over, and shame on the publisher, etc.

[Merel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Eigenlijk niet helemaal oké dat dit boek is gepubliceerd, maar fascinerend is het wel. Het biedt een inkijkje in de gesprekken van Joan Didion met haar psychiater, vooral over de ingewikkelde dynamiek met haar geadopteerde dochter Quintana. Joan Didion kan ontzettend goed nadenken en wat ze denkt logisch uitleggen, en dat vind ik echt een genot om te lezen. Ik vergat tijdens het lezen dat dit nooit bedoeld is als roman maar een bundel is van gespreksverslagen, dat zegt genoeg.

[Lulu · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bleak. Couldn’t put this down despite bleakness. Even though I found it super interesting, I still don’t think it needed to be / should have been published. Even in and around arguments suggesting Didion prepared or intended this to be published, the account of herself, her daughter and her husband, all now dead, and her attempts to fix her family which we know were in vain are pretty … bleak.

[diario_de_um_leitor_pjv · Rating 4 out of 5]

um relato nu, não editado, de um processo terapêutico! um leitura para amantes de diario e de "escritas de si".

[britt_brooke · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’m not a completist (yet), but I’ve loved everything I’ve read by Didion. This was too intimate. None of our business. I doubt she would’ve ever wanted these “notes” published, and I regret reading them. Still, her words are thoughtful. But this made me feel like a voyeur of her family’s pain.

[Arnout Verlaeckt]

She’s the most elegant, intelligent and best writer, that’s all.

[Karen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m thankful for the notes that were never intended for me but seem to be nonetheless. This book takes the phrase “you are not alone” and places it in my lap.
Human familial relationships and the heart break
Love
Letting be
Holding on
Addiction
Despair
Creating
Working
Getting away
Moving forward
Read it, no it’s not meant for you, or is it?