Sherwin B. Nuland
. . .[A] book more of observations than of feelings. . . .he keeps his deepest emotion to himself, except to let us sense that it is there for him to know but not really for us to understand. . . .Ms. Lyall, on the other hand, lets us into her mind. . . . Her thought are the key that opens up the rich chamber of their inner lives. —The New York Times
Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
McCrum (The Story of English), editor-in-chief of the British publisher Faber & Faber, was 42 years old and newly married when, one night in the summer of 1995, he suffered a massive stroke that almost killed him. This account of how that night changed his life, told with a skillful blend of candor, humor and comprehensible medical reportage, is not only an enthralling read but also calls attention to the little-known fact that strokes, normally thought of as an affliction of the elderly, attack younger people with remarkable frequency. As it turned out, McCrum was lucky; he almost entirely regained the use of his limbs, although he has a sluggish arm and tires easily. His personality also changed, from hard-driving and aggressive to reflective and relaxed. His marriage to Sarah Lyall, who, when he met her (at the Frankfurt Book Fair) was the New York Times publishing correspondent, obviously helped enormously in his recovery. Some of the most touching segments in the book are excerpts from Lyall's journals of dealing with her husband's slow recovery and his own thoughts on his sometimes harsh and bitter behavior as he strove to regain his life. The book offers solace to those similarly afflicted and is also a moving human document that, because of its protagonist, will be of particular interest to those in the book business.
Library Journal
Stroke is often considered an old person's illness, yet on the morning of July 29, 1995, 42-year-old McCrum, one of Britain's most successful editors and recently married to New York Times reporter Sarah Lyall, woke up paralyzed on his left side. For the rest of that horrible day McCrum struggled to reach a phone to get help. This nightmarish episode was recently excerpted in the New Yorker, and now we have McCrum's full account of the year he spent recuperating from the stroke's physical and emotional devastation. Unfortunately, it's a disappointment; a compelling article doesn't always make a good book. Too often it feels padded; large chunks of his and his wife's diaries are reprinted here; and, surprisingly, the writing leaves the reader emotionally uninvolved, unlike other accounts like Jean-Dominque Bauby's The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (LJ 5/15/97) and Jimmy Breslin's I Want to Thank My Brain for Remembering Me (LJ 7/96). Still, despite its very British tone (only U.K. stroke organizations are listed), McCrumb's memoir has value for younger stroke victims and their families. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 5/15/98.]--Wilda Williams, "Library Journal"
Seattle Times
McCrum eloquently recounts the year of rage, depression and small victories that has finally left him facing the future with determination and grace.
Abraham Verghese
With its lucid, heartfelt rose, My Year Off gives voice to the millions of people who suffer from strokes. . . .More important, this book is a testament to the parallel trials and courage of the family members of stroke victims. -- The New York Times Book Review
Sherwin B. Nuland
. . .[A] book more of observations than of feelings. . . .he keeps his deepest emotion to himself, except to let us sense that it is there for him to know but not really for us to understand. . . .Ms. Lyall, on the other hand, lets us into her mind. . . . Her thought are the key that opens up the rich chamber of their inner lives. -- The New York Times
Vanessa V. Friedman
. . .[A] hopeful tale. . . .[McCrum] is English, after all, so his stiff upper lip rarely quivers. -- Entertainment Weekly
Kirkus Reviews
The perceptive memoir of a 42-year-old British publisher's tortuous journey of recovery after a stroke. A successful man in the prime of life, just two months after marrying New York Times writer Sarah Lyall, is suddenly rendered helpless by a stroke so complete that he's reduced to almost infant-like abilities. But McCrum's years as the editor-in-chief of Faber & Faber in London serve him in good stead. He uses his tragedy to learn more about himself and, through his research and revelations, provides others in similar circumstances with a road map of sorts through a very rocky trip. McCrum (co-author of The Story of English) must start from scratch to relearn how to walk, talk, and handle the tasks of daily living. In addition to tracing the baby steps he begins, literally, to take, My Year Off also chronicles McCrum's battle with depression, his feelings of shame at his 'reduced' state, his fears about the future, and the toll the 'insult to the brain' has taken on his very new marriage. 'Who am I?' he writes. 'It was a question that would nag throughout my year off, and even now I am still not free of a persistent, and possibly pointless, anxiety about the existential and psychic meaning of my illness.' The book includes excerpts from both McCrum's and his wife's diaries, thereby making the book useful for victim and caregiver alike. Also included is the little medical information now available about strokes—especially sobering, since each year in Britain alone some 10,000 people of working age will suffer one. A vivid reminder to seize the day.
