product
7337791Things in Nature Merely Growhttps://www.gandhi.com.mx/things-in-nature-merely-grow-9780008753863/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/6916639/image.jpg?v=638763315052400000287350MXNHarperCollins PublishersInStock/Ebooks/6975128Things in Nature Merely Grow287350https://www.gandhi.com.mx/things-in-nature-merely-grow-9780008753863/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/6916639/image.jpg?v=638763315052400000InStockMXN99999DIEbook20259780008753863_W3siaWQiOiIxZDk4Y2FiYi1lM2Q2LTRhMzMtODkwMi04YzY2ZmY2YjVkOGEiLCJsaXN0UHJpY2UiOjM1MCwiZGlzY291bnQiOjYzLCJzZWxsaW5nUHJpY2UiOjI4NywiaW5jbHVkZXNUYXgiOnRydWUsInByaWNlVHlwZSI6Ildob2xlc2FsZSIsImN1cnJlbmN5IjoiTVhOIiwiZnJvbSI6IjIwMjUtMDctMDFUMDA6MDA6MDBaIiwicmVnaW9uIjoiTVgiLCJpc1ByZW9yZGVyIjpmYWxzZX1d9780008753863_<p><strong>A remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance from celebrated author Yiyun Li as she considers the loss of her son James.</strong></p><p>There is no good way to say this, Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book.</p><p>There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home.</p><p>There is no good way to say thisbecause words fall short. It takes only an instant for death to become fact, a single point in a timeline. Living now on this single point, Li turns to thinking and reasoning and searching for words that might hold a place for James. Li does what she can: including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death.</p><p>This is a book for James, but it is not a book about grieving or mourning. As Li writes, The verb that does not die is to be. Vincent was and is and will always be Vincent. James was and is and will always be James. We were and are and will always be their parents. There is no now and then, now and later, only, now and now and now and now. <em>Things in Nature Merely Grow</em> is a testament to Lis indomitable spirit.</p>...(*_*)9780008753863_<p><strong>A remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance from celebrated author Yiyun Li as she considers the loss of her son James.</strong></p><p>There is no good way to say this, Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book.</p><p>There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home.</p><p>There is no good way to say this because words fall short. It takes only an instant for death to become fact, a single point in a timeline. Living now on this single point, Li turns to thinking and reasoning and searching for words that might hold a place for James. Li does what she can: including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death.</p><p>This is a book for James, but it is not a book about grieving or mourning. As Li writes, The verb that does not die is to be. Vincent was and is and will always be Vincent. James was and is and will always be James. We were and are and will always be their parents. There is no now and then, now and later, only, now and now and now and now. <em>Things in Nature Merely Grow</em> is a testament to Lis indomitable spirit.</p>...(*_*)9780008753863_<p><strong>A remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance from acclaimed Pulitzer Prize finalist Yiyun Li as she considers the loss of her son James.</strong></p><p>There is no good way to say this, Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book.</p><p>There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home.</p><p>There is no good way to say this because words fall short. It takes only an instant for death to become fact, a single point in a timeline. Living now on this single point, Li turns to thinking and reasoning and searching for words that might hold a place for James. Li does what she can: including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death.</p><p>This is a book for James, but it is not a book about grieving or mourning. As Li writes, The verb that does not die is to be. Vincent was and is and will always be Vincent. James was and is and will always be James. We were and are and will always be their parents. There is no now and then, now and later, only, now and now and now and now. <em>Things in Nature Merely Grow</em> is a testament to Lis indomitable spirit.</p>...(*_*)9780008753863_<p><strong>A remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance from acclaimed Pulitzer Prize finalist Yiyun Li as she considers the loss of her son James.</strong></p><p>There is no good way to say this, Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book.</p><p>There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home.</p><p>There is no good way to say this because words fall short. It takes only an instant for death to become fact, a single point in a timeline. Living now on this single point, Li turns to thinking and reasoning and searching for words that might hold a place for James. Li does what she can: including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death.</p><p>This is a book for James, but it is not a book about grieving or mourning. As Li writes, The verb that does not die is to be. Vincent was and is and will always be Vincent. James was and is and will always be James. We were and are and will always be their parents. There is no now and then, now and later, only, now and now and now and now. <em>Things in Nature Merely Grow</em> is a testament to Lis indomitable spirit.</p><p><strong>A manifesto of living, not dying, and of how we endure the most unimaginable things</strong> Sinéad Gleeson, <em>The Week</em></p>...(*_*)9780008753863_<p><strong>One of the most important books to be published in years</strong> SARA COLLINS</p><p><strong>There are few writers with Lis power</strong> DOUGLAS STUART</p><p><strong>A manifesto of living</strong> SINÉAD GLEESON</p><p><strong>A remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance from acclaimed Pulitzer Prize finalist Yiyun Li as she considers the loss of her son James.</strong></p><p>There is no good way to say this, Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book.</p><p>There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home.</p><p>There is no good way to say this because words fall short. It takes only an instant for death to become fact, a single point in a timeline. Living now on this single point, Li turns to thinking and reasoning and searching for words that might hold a place for James. Li does what she can: including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death.</p><p>This is a book for James, but it is not a book about grieving. As Li writes, The verb that does not die is to be. Vincent was and is and will always be Vincent. James was and is and will always be James. We were and are and will always be their parents. There is no now and then, now and later, only, now and now and now and now. <em>Things in Nature Merely Grow</em> is a testament to Lis indomitable spirit.</p><p><strong>As seen in the <em>New Yorker, Vanity Fair</em>, <em>LA Times</em>, <em>TIME</em>, and the <em>Paris Review</em>.</strong></p><p><strong>A manifesto of living, not dying, and of how we endure the most unimaginable things</strong> SINÉAD GLEESON, <em>THE WEEK</em></p><p><strong>A profound look at how a parent continues to live in a world without her children</strong> <em>TIME</em></p><p><strong>Lis astonishing record of how she has chosen acceptance over despair</strong> <em>LA TIMES</em></p>...(*_*)9780008753863_<p><strong>One of the most important books to be published in years</strong> SARA COLLINS</p><p><strong>There are few writers with Lis power</strong> DOUGLAS STUART</p><p><strong>An extraordinary book</strong> SARAH MOSS</p><p><strong>A manifesto of living</strong> SINÉAD GLEESON</p><p><strong>A remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance from acclaimed Pulitzer Prize finalist Yiyun Li as she considers the loss of her son James.</strong></p><p>There is no good way to say this, Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book.</p><p>There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home.</p><p>There is no good way to say this because words fall short. It takes only an instant for death to become fact, a single point in a timeline. Living now on this single point, Li turns to thinking and reasoning and searching for words that might hold a place for James. Li does what she can: including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death.</p><p>This is a book for James, but it is not a book about grieving. As Li writes, The verb that does not die is to be. Vincent was and is and will always be Vincent. James was and is and will always be James. We were and are and will always be their parents. There is no now and then, now and later, only, now and now and now and now. <em>Things in Nature Merely Grow</em> is a testament to Lis indomitable spirit.</p><p><strong>As seen in the <em>New Yorker, Vanity Fair</em>, <em>LA Times</em>, <em>TIME</em>, and the <em>Paris Review</em>.</strong></p><p><strong>A manifesto of living, not dying, and of how we endure the most unimaginable things</strong> SINÉAD GLEESON, <em>THE WEEK</em></p><p><strong>A profound look at how a parent continues to live in a world without her children</strong> <em>TIME</em></p><p><strong>Lis astonishing record of how she has chosen acceptance over despair</strong> <em>LA TIMES</em></p>...(*_*)9780008753863_<p><strong>One of the most important books to be published in years</strong> SARA COLLINS</p><p><strong>There are few writers with Lis power</strong> DOUGLAS STUART</p><p><strong>An extraordinary book</strong> SARAH MOSS</p><p><strong>A manifesto of living</strong> SINÉAD GLEESON</p><p><strong>A remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance from acclaimed Pulitzer Prize finalist Yiyun Li as she considers the loss of her son James.</strong></p><p>There is no good way to say this, Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book.</p><p>There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home.</p><p>There is no good way to say this because words fall short. It takes only an instant for death to become fact, a single point in a timeline. Living now on this single point, Li turns to thinking and reasoning and searching for words that might hold a place for James. Li does what she can: including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death.</p><p>This is a book for James, but it is not a book about grieving. As Li writes, The verb that does not die is to be. Vincent was and is and will always be Vincent. James was and is and will always be James. We were and are and will always be their parents. There is no now and then, now and later, only, now and now and now and now. <em>Things in Nature Merely Grow</em> is a testament to Lis indomitable spirit.</p><p><strong>As seen in the <em>New Yorker, Vanity Fair</em>, <em>LA Times</em>, <em>TIME</em>, and the <em>Paris Review</em>.</strong></p><p><strong>Resolutely unsentimental, and yet it might wind you with its emotional force</strong> <em>GUARDIAN</em></p><p><strong>To state that this courageous book is a testament to love is an understatement. One is left altered by it</strong> <em>OBSERVER</em></p><p><strong>A story of loss that is unlike any other book Ive read an unforgettable monument to endurance</strong> <em>SUNDAY TIMES</em></p><p><strong>A memoir unlike others, strange and profound and fiercely determined not to look away</strong> <em>NEW YORK TIMES</em></p><p><strong>A manifesto of living, not dying, and of how we endure the most unimaginable things</strong> SINÉAD GLEESON, <em>THE WEEK</em></p><p><strong>A profound look at how a parent continues to live in a world without her children</strong> <em>TIME</em></p><p><strong>Lis astonishing record of how she has chosen acceptance over despair</strong> <em>LA TIMES</em></p>...(*_*)9780008753863_<p><strong>One of the most important books to be published in years</strong> SARA COLLINS</p><p><strong>There are few writers with Lis power</strong> DOUGLAS STUART</p><p><strong>An extraordinary book</strong> SARAH MOSS</p><p><strong>A manifesto of living</strong> SINÉAD GLEESON</p><p><strong>A remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance from acclaimed Pulitzer Prize finalist Yiyun Li as she considers the loss of her son James.</strong></p><p>There is no good way to say this, Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book.</p><p>There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home.</p><p>There is no good way to say this because words fall short. It takes only an instant for death to become fact, a single point in a timeline. Living now on this single point, Li turns to thinking and reasoning and searching for words that might hold a place for James. Li does what she can: including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death.</p><p>This is a book for James, but it is not a book about grieving. As Li writes, The verb that does not die is to be. Vincent was and is and will always be Vincent. James was and is and will always be James. We were and are and will always be their parents. There is no now and then, now and later, only, now and now and now and now. <em>Things in Nature Merely Grow</em> is a testament to Lis indomitable spirit.</p><p><strong>As seen in the <em>New Yorker, Vanity Fair</em>, <em>LA Times</em>, <em>TIME</em>, and the <em>Paris Review</em>.</strong></p><p><strong>To state that this courageous book is a testament to love is an understatement. One is left altered by it</strong> <em>OBSERVER</em></p><p><strong>A story of loss that is unlike any other book Ive read an unforgettable monument to endurance</strong> <em>SUNDAY TIMES</em></p><p><strong>Resolutely unsentimental, and yet it might wind you with its emotional force</strong> <em>GUARDIAN</em></p><p><strong>A memoir unlike others, strange and profound and fiercely determined not to look away</strong> <em>NEW YORK TIMES</em></p><p><strong>A manifesto of living, not dying, and of how we endure the most unimaginable things</strong> SINÉAD GLEESON, in <em>THE WEEK</em></p><p><strong>A profound look at how a parent continues to live in a world without her children</strong> <em>TIME</em></p><p><strong>Lis astonishing record of how she has chosen acceptance over despair</strong> <em>LA TIMES</em></p>...(*_*)9780008753863_<p><strong>One of the most important books to be published in years</strong> SARA COLLINS</p><p><strong>There are few writers with Lis power</strong> DOUGLAS STUART</p><p><strong>An extraordinary book</strong> SARAH MOSS</p><p><strong>A manifesto of living</strong> SINÉAD GLEESON</p><p><strong>A remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance from acclaimed Pulitzer Prize finalist Yiyun Li as she considers the loss of her son James.</strong></p><p>There is no good way to say this, Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book.</p><p>There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home.</p><p>There is no good way to say this because words fall short. It takes only an instant for death to become fact, a single point in a timeline. Living now on this single point, Li turns to thinking and reasoning and searching for words that might hold a place for James. Li does what she can: including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death.</p><p>This is a book for James, but it is not a book about grieving. As Li writes, The verb that does not die is to be. Vincent was and is and will always be Vincent. James was and is and will always be James. We were and are and will always be their parents. There is no now and then, now and later, only, now and now and now and now. <em>Things in Nature Merely Grow</em> is a testament to Lis indomitable spirit.</p><p><strong>As seen in the <em>New Yorker, Vanity Fair</em>, <em>LA Times</em>, <em>TIME</em>, and the <em>Paris Review</em>.</strong></p><p><strong>To state that this courageous book is a testament to love is an understatement. One is left altered by it</strong> <em>OBSERVER</em></p><p><strong>A story of loss that is unlike any other book Ive read an unforgettable monument to endurance</strong> <em>SUNDAY TIMES</em></p><p><strong>Resolutely unsentimental, and yet it might wind you with its emotional force</strong> <em>GUARDIAN</em></p><p><strong>A memoir unlike others, strange and profound and fiercely determined not to look away</strong> <em>NEW YORK TIMES</em></p><p><strong>A manifesto of living, not dying, and of how we endure the most unimaginable things</strong> SINÉAD GLEESON, in <em>THE WEEK</em></p><p><strong>A profound look at how a parent continues to live in a world without her children</strong> <em>TIME</em></p><p><strong>Lis astonishing record of how she has chosen acceptance over despair</strong> <em>LA TIMES</em></p><p><strong>A book unlike any Ive read, that brims with rare clarity and intelligence, with love and care. It will stay with me for a long time</strong> CECILE PIN</p>...(*_*)9780008753863_<p><strong>One of the most important books to be published in years</strong> SARA COLLINS</p><p><strong>There are few writers with Lis power</strong> DOUGLAS STUART</p><p><strong>I will return to it for the rest of my life</strong> CHARLOTTE WOOD</p><p><strong>A remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance from acclaimed Pulitzer Prize finalist Yiyun Li as she considers the loss of her son James.</strong></p><p>There is no good way to say this, Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book.</p><p>There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home.</p><p>There is no good way to say this because words fall short. It takes only an instant for death to become fact, a single point in a timeline. Living now on this single point, Li turns to thinking and reasoning and searching for words that might hold a place for James. Li does what she can: including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death.</p><p>This is a book for James, but it is not a book about grieving. As Li writes, The verb that does not die is to be. Vincent was and is and will always be Vincent. James was and is and will always be James. We were and are and will always be their parents. There is no now and then, now and later, only, now and now and now and now. <em>Things in Nature Merely Grow</em> is a testament to Lis indomitable spirit.</p><p><strong>As seen in the <em>New Yorker, Vanity Fair</em>, <em>LA Times</em>, <em>TIME</em>, and the <em>Paris Review</em>.</strong></p><p><strong>To state that this courageous book is a testament to love is an understatement. One is left altered by it</strong> <em>OBSERVER</em></p><p><strong>A story of loss that is unlike any other book Ive read an unforgettable monument to endurance</strong> <em>SUNDAY TIMES</em></p><p><strong>Resolutely unsentimental, and yet it might wind you with its emotional force</strong> <em>GUARDIAN</em></p><p><strong>A memoir unlike others, strange and profound and fiercely determined not to look away</strong> <em>NEW YORK TIMES</em></p><p><strong>An extraordinary book</strong> SARAH MOSS</p><p><strong>A manifesto of living, not dying, and of how we endure the most unimaginable things</strong> SINÉAD GLEESON, in <em>THE WEEK</em></p><p><strong>A profound look at how a parent continues to live in a world without her children</strong> <em>TIME</em></p><p><strong>Lis astonishing record of how she has chosen acceptance over despair</strong> <em>LA TIMES</em></p><p><strong>A book unlike any Ive read, that brims with rare clarity and intelligence, with love and care. It will stay with me for a long time</strong> CECILE PIN</p>...(*_*)9780008753863_<p><strong>Unforgettable</strong> <em>SUNDAY TIMES</em></p><p><strong>Courageous</strong> <em>OBSERVER</em></p><p><strong>One of the most important books to be published in years</strong> SARA COLLINS</p><p><strong>There are few writers with Lis power</strong> DOUGLAS STUART</p><p><strong>The best book I have read this year</strong> DAVID NICHOLLS</p><p><strong>I will return to it for the rest of my life</strong> CHARLOTTE WOOD</p><p><strong>A remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance from acclaimed Pulitzer Prize finalist Yiyun Li as she considers the loss of her son James.</strong></p><p>There is no good way to say this, Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book.</p><p>There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home.</p><p>There is no good way to say this because words fall short. It takes only an instant for death to become fact, a single point in a timeline. Living now on this single point, Li turns to thinking and reasoning and searching for words that might hold a place for James. Li does what she can: including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death.</p><p>This is a book for James, but it is not a book about grieving. As Li writes, The verb that does not die is to be. Vincent was and is and will always be Vincent. James was and is and will always be James. We were and are and will always be their parents. There is no now and then, now and later, only, now and now and now and now. <em>Things in Nature Merely Grow</em> is a testament to Lis indomitable spirit.</p><p><strong>As seen in the <em>New Yorker, Vanity Fair</em>, <em>LA Times</em>, <em>TIME</em>, and the <em>Paris Review</em>.</strong></p><p><strong>To state that this courageous book is a testament to love is an understatement. One is left altered by it</strong> <em>OBSERVER</em></p><p><strong>A story of loss that is unlike any other book Ive read an unforgettable monument to endurance</strong> <em>SUNDAY TIMES</em></p><p><strong>Resolutely unsentimental, and yet it might wind you with its emotional force</strong> <em>GUARDIAN</em></p><p><strong>A memoir unlike others, strange and profound and fiercely determined not to look away</strong> <em>NEW YORK TIMES</em></p><p><strong>An extraordinary book</strong> SARAH MOSS</p><p><strong>A manifesto of living, not dying, and of how we endure the most unimaginable things</strong> SINÉAD GLEESON, in <em>THE WEEK</em></p><p><strong>A profound look at how a parent continues to live in a world without her children</strong> <em>TIME</em></p><p><strong>A book unlike any Ive read, that brims with rare clarity and intelligence, with love and care. It will stay with me for a long time</strong> CECILE PIN</p>...9780008753863_HarperCollins Publisherslibro_electonico_9780008753863_9780008753863Yiyun LiInglésMéxico2025-05-22T00:00:00+00:00https://getbook.kobo.com/koboid-prod-public/harpercollinsuk-epub-b4efedc8-53ed-4551-b1f5-13a8f0c24a2b.epub2025-05-22T00:00:00+00:00HarperCollins Publishers