71 pages • 2 hours read
Paul KalanithiA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.
Death is explored through numerous lenses throughout the book and is the very foundation of Paul’s philosophical and medical exploration. The existence of death is fairly implicit during Paul’s childhood and college years, as he commits himself to a “monastic, scholarly study of human meaning” (31), as his conception of meaning is informed by mortality.
Paul’s continued studies in medical school deepen his thinking and questioning, and it is during his dissection with cadavers that he learns how “their humanity pops up at you” (47). The attempt to ignore the realness of the corpses, in order to perform the operations without being traumatized, is a paradox that returns to the novel over and over again as the deaths Paul witnesses come with an increasing amount of responsibility, and, therefore, an increasing amount of weight.
Death looms over each word describing Paul’s battle with cancer. However, instead of questioning death, he questions life. He has suddenly fast-forwarded into the latest stages of his existence, for which he thought he’d have decades to prepare.
And, of course, Lucy paints an intimate portrait of death in the Epilogue. The details of the process of dying are described with a gentle prose that envelope Paul’s last days with awe, rather than darkness.
Throughout the book, Kalanithi peppers specific references to authors and books. Books fuel Paul’s life. They illustrate, for example, pivotal moments (the book from his early girlfriend Abigail), lifelong obsessions (T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland), and brief tools for argumentation (Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot).
The idea of literature seems to Paul, at a young age, to be antithetical to experience. Although he loves reading, he questions whether “knowledge alone” can “be enough, with life and death hanging in the balance” (66). During his medical practice, he comes to understand that the experiences of life are given shape by literature, by the critical thinking it provokes and the meaning it creates. In the early throes of his illness, when he “finds no traction in the reams of scientific studies,” reading becomes a way for him to learn how to express himself (148). Solzhenitsyn, Woolf, Kafka, Tolstoy, Nagel, Greville: these writers are more than just teachers. They are companions, individuals who shared the conviction that reading is central to the exploration of existence. This book stands as a testament to that.
The classic roles of doctor and patient are outlined early on in the book. Paul worries he is becoming Tolstoy’s “stereotype of a doctor; preoccupied with empty formalism, focused on the rote treatment of disease—and utterly missing the larger human significance” (85). The repetition of any new experience begins to wear one down, as operations that once required focus become second-nature. However, Paul avoids slipping into static behaviors.
Understanding the patients featured in the book extends beyond knowing the names and effects of a given illness. Paul wants to make sense of what their lives mean, once they’ve been altered by the inability to speak or express language. The specific stories we hear about give us a full picture of patient-hood: pregnant women, alcoholics, the elderly, 8-year-olds with brain tumors, and friends cut from the prime of life through accident or suicide. These people do not simply sit and wait for instruction consider the demanding patient who maintains an “unceasing monologue” throughout his brain surgery (111). Paul confronts the doctor’s duty to a patient, and how a patient’s experience is mediated by a doctor.
The border between patient and doctor disintegrates once Paul crosses from being the latter to playing both roles, often simultaneously. He is literally in pain as he performs in the OR. The rest of the book is a struggle to reconcile the two positions of doctor and patient. And, although he finally gives complete domain to Emma, in order to give himself over to living the final days of his life, his expertise and modes of thinking are reflected on every page of the book. His doctorhood is undone. This leaves us wondering what kinds of insights Paul might have unearthed had he lived long enough to continue his career as neurosurgeon-neuroscientist.
Up until his diagnosis, Paul’s visions for himself are continuously realized and, possibly, exceeded. His fierce commitment to earns him three degrees prior to medical school, and although his future remains uncertain, the reader, given all his successes, knows it is surely bright. Once he decides upon neurosurgery, he quickly becomes excellent at it. He knows which jobs he strives for, and he knows that Lucy is the love of his life. In Paul’s words: “At the age of thirty-six, I had reached the mountaintop; I could see the Promised Land, from Gilead to Jericho to the Mediterranean Sea” (7).
Once Paul is forced to confront the possibility of his death, his hierarchy of priorities shifts. Paul and Lucy take certain precautions for the future, for the sakes of security and safety, but they operate on a new scale, one that considers the fundamental values of daily life. Paul holds his daughter, spends time with his family, and writes.