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Crosley has a magical way of sculpting language. It’s art, the way she expresses herself, and it’s an art I greatly appreciate. However, I did find she used language in a way that kept her emotionally distant from the subject at hand. She conveyed her thoughts beautifully, but I didn’t feel she let her heart show up very often. Perhaps it was just too soon for this. Perhaps it was too painful to really go there. All of that is fair.

Grief is extremely messy. Unless we leave this earth entirely too soon, we’re all bound to know its sloppy nature at some point. So I didn’t mind that this book was also a mess at first. It’s all over the place, bouncing off each thought like a bumper car, haphazardly making connections, sharing memories, and trying to make sense of it all. It was chaos, and so it was grief itself. I maintain that Crosley is a phenomenal writer, and Grief is for People was quite compelling early on, but I did find it to be a bit tedious as time went on. Perhaps this was because of what I mentioned in my first paragraph. Perhaps its meandering method contributed, as well.

It was nice to get to know Russell through Sloane Crosley. I’m unsure how to feel about an aspect she chose to share, though. I don’t want to spoil it or taint anyone else’s perspective. When we love someone, it can be easy to put them on a pedestal, even more so after they’ve died. Crosley did acknowledge her beloved friend’s flaws at times, mostly in a joking manner, and they were arguably presented as glamorous eccentricities. I liked her unconditional fondness, but I found her casual dismissiveness of problematic workplace behavior to be off putting. I appreciate her compassion for Russell’s own confusion, and I feel this addition gave readers another piece of understanding toward his emotional undoing, but I was uncomfortable and in disagreement with her stance.

I know many worry that they’re rating a person’s life when they rate a memoir. What we’re rating is our experience with the presentation. If someone told me their story, I certainly wouldn’t critique their delivery, but if they chose to have it published, monetizing on it - well, I think that is something else entirely. It’s brave, putting yourself out into the world so vulnerably, but I don’t feel readers should have to struggle over not loving every facet of the telling. I hope writing this book helped Crosley better process her loss, and I am glad she chose to share some of her insight with the rest of us.

3.5 stars