A review by whichthreewords
An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination by Elizabeth McCracken

5.0

"Perhaps it goes without saying that I believe in the geographic cure. Of course you can't out-travel sadness. You will find it has smuggled itself along in your suitcase. It coats the camera lens, it flavors the local cuisine. In that different sunlight, it stands out, awkward, yours, honking in the brash vowels of your native tongue in otherwise quiet restaurants. You may even feel proud of its stubbornness as it follows you up the bell towers and monuments, as it pants in your ear while you take in the view. I travel not to get away from my troubles but to see how they look in front of famous buildings or on deserted beaches. I take them for walks. Sometimes I get them drunk. Back at home we generally understand each other better."

My one regret about this excellent memoir of the author's stillborn son is the last chapter. Of course I'm very glad her second child did survive, but this is known throughout the entirety of the book and that last bit (I wonder if it was her choice or insisted upon by her publisher?) feels a bit pat.