Times Like These: On grief, hope & remarkable love

Description

'These essays about love, loss, and memories of night voyages with her dad glow from within, like phosphorescence on the sea. Just what we need in times like these.' - Diana Wichtel 'Evocative, lyrical, surprising, Times Like These is built from a heart that bursts out of every page.' - Toby Manhire Childhood, family, and death; anxiety and release; grief and the hope of new life: these are some of the themes that underpin Michelle Langstone's debut collection. Michelle is interested in the way the concept of identity is shaken during a major event, and in the feeling world at its most raw and intimate. These essays speak to one another across a timeline, examining her world before the death of her father, and life after his passing, when she recalibrates the shape of a universe without him. Essays on acting, fertility and IVF, and intergenerational love round out a collection that is full of candour and humour. Tender, poignant and moving, these intimate essays are perfectly formed and offer a shimmering portrait of the human condition.

Michelle Langstone is a well-known actor in both New Zealand and Australia, and has featured in multiple film and television roles, including recurring roles in One Lane Bridge, 800 Words and McLeod's Daughters. Michelle won the award for Best First Person Essay at the Voyager Media Awards in 2019 and the award for Best Interview or Profile at the Voyager Media Awards in 2020. She is a regular contributor to North & South, The New Zealand Herald and The Spinoff website. Michelle lives in Auckland, New Zealand.

"There are moments in life that blindside us, rob us of context and take away our ability to put experience into words. . . . Langstone' s debut book, a collection of essays, coaxes these moments to pause and be captured, and more: Beguiles them into speech. . . . Times Like These enters into a dance with the emotions surrounding loss. She gives her father a literary Viking funeral, crowding her memories of him onto the boats of her childhood holidays and lighting them into a glorious funeral pyre. . . . Langstone doesn't drag us through the mire without offering us something valuable in return. In her willingness to enter into the vulnerability of sadness, the sordid and sublime details of approaching, then receding, death, she finds communion with something bigger. Not something spiritual necessarily, but human: The swell of love underneath the little boats of daily life and family concerns, deeper than the sea." --Stuff