"Morningside Heights," by Joshua Henkin, and "Crying in H Mart," by Michelle Zauner

I have just read two engrossing books, one a novel and one a memoir, portraying caregiving of very ill loved ones. The books have much in common in their overall themes of the meanings of family and relationships and cultures, but are also very different in many ways. “Morningside Heights” (Pantheon, 2021) is Joshua Henkin’s latest novel, and as in his earlier novels (see my posts of 8/19/12, 9/13/12, and 2/14/13), his voice is (according to Joan Frank’s perceptive 6/27/21 Washington Post review of the current book and alluding to Henkin’s earlier fiction as well) “characterized by compassionate attention to modern human predicaments” and is “unflinching yet kind.” “Morningside Heights” describes the early-onset dementia of a brilliant and highly successful professor in his fifties, and his being cared for by his much younger wife. Fortunately they have the means to employ help, as well as caring friends who pitch in, but it is still a devastatingly sad and difficult situation for her and their daughter, as of course it is for him. Michelle Zauner’s memoir “Crying in H Mart” (Knopf, 2021) shares the sadness and pain of caring for a loved one, in this case her mother, who suffers terribly with cancer and dies when Zauner is only 25 years old. Mother and daughter have had a fraught relationship, complicated by the mother’s being first-generation Korean-American and the daughter’s being half-Korean, half Caucasian-American, as well as by the daughter's youth. The author decided to drop everything (she is a musician who goes by the name of Japanese Breakfast) and dedicate herself to taking care of her mother, and witnessed all the terrible details involving doctors, hospitals, tests, and the horrifying symptoms and pain that her mother endured. The two drew closer and closer during this time. One of the ways they had always connected, and continued to do so even more during the mother’s illness, was through preparing and eating Korean food. The memoir is full of food-related experiences, memories, conversations, and meditations. Zauner writes beautifully about food and its cultural connotations and how it is the way she best understands and draws closer to her Korean family and background. Both Henkin’s novel and Zauner’s memoir are painful to read, yet life-affirming, and both are very well-written and compelling. I recommend both.