The (surprisingly funny) true story of a father-son duo diagnosed with terminal cancers a week apart.
When comedy writer Glenn Rockowitz and his psychoanalyst father are diagnosed with aggressive terminal cancers only a week apart, tragedy gives way to a uniquely dark, funny, and intensely loving experience. This is Rockowitz's unflinchingly candid account of the heartbreak, joy, and wisdom shared between father and son as they face their final months of life—alone, and together.
Cotton Teeth is the long-awaited follow-up to Rockowitz's bestselling memoir, Rodeo in Joliet.
The (surprisingly funny) true story of a father-son duo diagnosed with terminal cancers a week apart.
When comedy writer Glenn Rockowitz and his psychoanalyst father are diagnosed with aggressive terminal cancers only a week apart, tragedy gives way to a uniquely dark, funny, and intensely loving experience. This is Rockowitz's unflinchingly candid account of the heartbreak, joy, and wisdom shared between father and son as they face their final months of life—alone, and together.
Cotton Teeth is the long-awaited follow-up to Rockowitz's bestselling memoir, Rodeo in Joliet.
Everything is black, my heart is a hummingbird, my lungs are in my throat and I don’t know if I’m flying or if I’m falling. The doctors say I won’t know which until I hit the ground.
But this is it: a volcanic surge of fear and nausea and fucking dread I feel every day now. Sometimes once, sometimes every few minutes. Either way, I don’t know how much longer I can keep living on my heels like this. Always off-balance, brittle fists up and ready.
Nine minutes ago, I was lying in bed next to my father and we were both fast asleep and quietly dreaming. Now I’m curled up and trembling on his bathroom floor, stress-packed between the toilet and the sink like
a cat on moving day. I’m trying to catch my breath, trying to shake loose the shock of seeing the calendar tacked to the wall beside his bed.
The shock of seeing that date.
After reading the last line of the book Cotton Teeth by Glenn Rockowitz (and I insist on reading the epilogue), one would find himself/herself wondering, "What was it? Memoir? Poetry collection? Confession to a wife? A love letter to a son? Spitted out truth of childhood trauma?" It's hard to explain the book's nature in objective, matter-of-fact words. It undoubtedly encloses events of one nodal year of the author's life, when he was diagnosed with IV stage cancer and was given three months to live. The author's father was diagnosed with cancer too, however, with a better prognosis. Not far into the book, the narrative splits into two, one of the present, one of the past (summer camp of 1977). To help readers navigate two timelines, the book has average white pages for the present and black pages for the past.
I'm not particularly prone to write golden-hued praise reviews. But despite my best efforts, I can't say anything negative about the book or even stay neutral. It took the author ten years to find the right words for his story, and exceptional circumstances pushed him to write the book in its wholeness. "Everything worth having lives on the other side of fear," the prologue says (and I insist on reading the prologue). Ignoring the fear, the author detailed every emotion, every small motion on his journey to what he thought to be the end of his life. The closeness of death, both his own and his father's, dug up childhood memories previously buried under the shame and guilt. The book has a lot of self-awareness, but a reader won't cringe at it, being hyper-moralistic or divinely enlightening. The words flawlessly flow from the first page to the last, punctuated by foul language - but mesmerizing in their painful honesty.
I can recommend the book to any reader over the age of eighteen. Seriously. Read the book. It's much more than cancer and survival and loss. It's the same feeling as when you accidentally cut a finger with a guitar string. It hurts. But it hurts with music.
Once again, I insist on reading the prologue and epilogue.
And the first-ever cliffhanger in my book review: Who is Greg???
I received an advance review copy through Reedsy Discovery, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.