Memoir of a Debulked Woman: Enduring Ovarian Cancer
“Staggering, searing… even the most skeptical and finicky reader—even the healthy reader, even the healthy male reader—will not put this book down…  Ms. Gubar deserves the highest admiration for her bravery and honesty.” (Abigail Zuger - New York Times)“Clear-eyed and exquisitely written.” (Cynthia Crossen - Wall Street Journal)“Delivered in a voice that is intelligent, feminist and devastatingly honest…  Unlike many accounts of life with cancer, it is neither relentlessly upbeat nor melodramatic.  Instead, it is straightforward, realistic and incredibly brave.” (Elsa Dixler - New York Times Book Review)“Starred review.  True to her no-nonsense feminist roots, Gubar pulls no punches....  This raw narrative is as close to therapy and is written as close to the bone as one is likely to find among cancer memoirs. Even so, there is a certain beauty that only someone of Gubar’s prodigious abilities can impart to such a painful experience.” (Booklist)“In this brave, honest book, Gubar grapples with the reality and symbolism of cancer.  …[H]er tone is intimate, unsentimental, and darkly funny.” (Boston Globe)“Not just a grueling memoir of facing a deadly disease but a powerful exposé of the failure of medical science to find better ways to detect and treat it.” (Kirkus Reviews)“Gubar’s passionate and brave polemic is critical reading for anyone concerned with the state of women’s health care in America.” (Publishers Weekly)“An extraordinary testament to the human spirit—at least, to Susan Gubar’s indomitable spirit—a rare mixture of honesty, eloquence, humor, and passionate curiosity about the truth....  The ‘voice’ is so utterly intimate, the reader will find herself, or himself, drawn into sharing the author’s deepest thoughts, fears, and wishes. The memoir is a treasure-chest of wonderful, uncommon cultural allusions and lines of poetry; the reader feels honored to be in the presence of a first-rate, restless mind, being taken to a place of devastating clarity. There is pathos here, but not self-pity; amid the tragic and sorrowful, sudden flashes of wit.” (Joyce Carol Oates)