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thefattingtonfrisk's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
funny
hopeful
informative
reflective
medium-paced
5.0
I’m not entirely sure why I ended up with this book, other than the fact that I got it for free using a reward from ThriftBooks at some point. Maybe someone had mentioned it and I added it to my wish list in the past, or (more likely) I stumbled onto it while browsing for books that were cheap enough to qualify for the reward. It was an add-on, something I hoped to get to eventually, and I shelved it with the rest of the “I’ll get to these someday” books. There it sat for, surprisingly, just two years.
Late in 2023, I was stewing on the fact that I hadn’t really read at all that year. I have so many books around, not to mention the many ebooks I have tucked away on my ereader, and yet I just don’t make time for them. I want them to be a priority, but I don’t make them one. So I did. I picked up a random book I had wanted to get to, and I read it. And then another. And another. I found that one thing that helps is mixing up the genre, or perhaps more specifically, the level of “seriousness.” I have a lot of nonfiction books that are dense and challenging reads, and it’s hard to keep going when that’s all I’m reading. I need easier reads sometimes, ones that don’t require so much time looking up what words mean. That’s how I landed on Too Late to Die Young, somehow thinking an autobiography of sorts would be lighter and more straight-forward. I was right in a way – it was a very easy and engaging read. But it was by no means “light,” in the sense that it made quick work of my emotions. The best way I describe it is with the phrase I kept thinking (and telling my partner) while I read it: “This book could have been written today, with how little has changed.”
Too Late to Die Young is, as I mentioned, a kind of autobiography, but it’s not meant as an entire life story. Instead, author Harriet McBryde Johnson claims only to be sharing stories, a collection of events (as she remembers them) organized by chapter that aren’t always directly connected to on another or told in chronological order, but which nonetheless tie into greater truths about her life. Some of them are funny (she had a great sense of humor and had mastered how to convey it through writing) while some are infuriating (people’s lives aren’t just some ~fun thought experiment~ like you seem to think they are, Peter, what the absolute hell?!). Harriet beckons the reader to come along for the ride, a fly on the wall of some of the most interesting, frustrating, hilarious, lovely, terrible, unexpected experiences she’d had. I rarely want to mark up books, but this is one I just know I’ll come back to again later and highlight all the passages that resonated with me. Even with the book itself being fairly dated (which you definitely can feel in some chapters), it still feels incredibly relevant today.
I’m thankful I came across this book and was able to get this glimpse into Harriet’s life. I was saddened to realize part way through my reading that she died just a few years after this book came out, but there was one silver lining to this knowledge: I read that she died in her sleep, in her own bed, in her own home. She was at work one day, and the next, she was gone. Simple as that. This may sound alarming to many of us, but let me put it in context. In this book, she frequently mentioned the very real fear many disabled people had (and still have) of being forced into a facility, trapped there until death, treated like burdens and not full people with full lives. She recounted a time when she feared that this was coming for her:
“This is what happens. It might be fast – a wrong swallow goes to aspiration pneumonia, a blood clot borne of immobility goes to the heart. Or it might be slow, painfully bureaucratic. At the ER, I got diagnostic codes that call for a cast, a sling, and release. What if the bean counters decide I don’t need to be in the hospital? Do I go back to the hotel? Beth can’t deal with me in this condition, not all alone, not indefinitely. So add to my acute diagnostic codes my chronic ones. With them, the funders say I need long-term subacute care: nursing home placement. The nursing home’s imperative is to keep you. They eat your money first, and when it’s consumed, they feed on Medicaid. People like me don’t get.”
It’s a chilling realization. This was happening, is happening, to so many people. And yet, I breathe a sigh of relief knowing that at least Harriet escaped that fate, though unfortunately many others don’t.
All of this is to say, this book will stick with me a good long while, and I’m happy to give it a permanent spot on my shelf, for coming back to myself and for sharing in the future.
courtneyfalling's review against another edition
emotional
informative
reflective
fast-paced
4.0
I read the first essay on confronting Peter Singer in Disability Visibility and loved it so much I knew I had to read this. It was totally worth it. Johnson’s descriptions of individual events and scenes, with self-awareness and a lawyer’s eye for sociopolitical forces at play, were so well-developed, at times even granular in the best way for memoir.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Ableism
questingnotcoasting's review
challenging
informative
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
This is a really interesting collection of essays looking into some of Harriet McBryde Johnson's life experiences as a lawyer and disability activist. I first heard of her when I read her essay in Disability Visibility and this book is very much more of the same. It's extremely well written and she shares funny moments as well as moments of absolute frustration with the systems and world she lived in.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Ableism, Medical content, and Medical trauma
avisreadsandreads's review against another edition
challenging
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
3.0
bajoranjay's review against another edition
5.0
This was my reading-on-the-bus book for the last month or so, and the source of the quotes on my whiteboard at work...and then I heard that the Harriet McBryde Johnson died mid-reading. I wished that I had read the book earlier, and that I had had a chance to meet her. Her approach to disability rights activism and memoiring out of her professional, cultural, and personality is unique and a good reminder to activist communities that there's always more than one way to change the world.
I remember back to social work school. A professor who I had been sharing disability rights resources had read "Unspeakable Conversations" (essay which is contained in this book, previously published by NYT magazine) and been so excited about her perspective that she made several color copies and shared with her professional colleagues and students. That kind of power is difficult to find, and will be missed.
I remember back to social work school. A professor who I had been sharing disability rights resources had read "Unspeakable Conversations" (essay which is contained in this book, previously published by NYT magazine) and been so excited about her perspective that she made several color copies and shared with her professional colleagues and students. That kind of power is difficult to find, and will be missed.
detailsandtales's review against another edition
4.0
This book was a well-written look into some of the life experiences of the author, as a disabled activist and lawyer. There were moments of humor and moments of frustration, and a few moments of utter randomness. Overall, I'm glad I read it.
kait_unicorn's review against another edition
5.0
What an incredibly delightful, charming and funny collection of stories! I genuinely laughed out loud several times and could almost imagine how Johnson might sound telling each tale in a softly Southern lilt.
sandphin's review against another edition
5.0
I loved this! Witty, quick, and firmly grounded in disability justice.