The Spare Room by Helen Garner

Perhaps this isn’t the best thing to be reading on the second day of convalescence after the foot operation, when you’re a bit worn out by pain and over the adrenalin rush that sustains you through the event…. It’s a book about how a woman looks after her friend who is resisting dying of cancer. I read everything Helen Garner writes: I love her honesty, her sparse language, the way she goes to the heart of any matter no matter how uncomfortable or unpopular her position. This is supposed to be a novel but it is peppered with references to her life and her work, so I am assuming much of the experience is real. The friend is a superannuated hippie type, and reminds me incidentally of certain close friends from my past who were addicted to dancing under moonlight or any sort of whacky therapeutic practice that might provide a madcap alternative to research-based modern medicine. Anyway, I digress. The friend is trying an extreme and unproven treatment at a very dodgy clinic in Melbourne to cure her of cancer and to allow her to avoid facing the realities of the disease. The load she places on Garner is enormous and not willingly shouldered, really, although Garner loves her dearly. That’s what I mean about Garner’s honesty – who else would own up to not being up to the burden of care? It’s a very short novel, thank goodness, because it’s uncomfortable reading. It’s also not Garner’s best because I think it gets a bit sentimental at the end, but then what a topic! 3 ½ stars.