In high school we had a teacher who told us many possibly true--but maybe not true, who knows?--stories about traveling the world. Who would make observations that cut through social norms and sometimes cut you down. Who inspired us to dream. Who told me one year he just couldn't be bothered to write a letter of recommendation and the next year wrote me a good one. Who had us memorize Baudelaire. Who taught well. And who died by suicide a decade after I graduated.

I've never seen anything like him in real life or in literature, and never thought I would until this book. He was an inspiration and an asshole. And the relationships many students had with him weren't inappropriate but they were complicated. He seemed to hold your worth in the palm of his hand and judge it everyday, but also not mind if you come or go, and at the same time to be giving you the whole entire world.

He meant a lot to many of the students and teachers in the community and his loss reverberated. This book is the only thing I have every seen that could describe that loss. Maybe, it's for anyone in the midst of the irrationality of grief. Mostly I think it is for anyone who has experienced this person: the inspirational, depressive mentor who reshapes the world.