Lilibet Bombshell's Reviews > We Spread

I’ve always had a really good relationship with the older people in my life. When I was a child, I got along better with my grandma and great aunts better than I got along with my cousins. I used to go to the local convalescent hospital and visit with elderly patients who had no one to visit them. When I was a teenager I’d rather spend the day with my grandma than my mom, because I was way more like my grandma than I was my mom. So you would think I wouldn’t mind the idea of aging. After all, I’d been around it all my life. You’d be wrong. I don’t fear death one bit. But aging? Aging is something that scares the beejesus out of me. The slow, inexorable loss of everything you were and everything you had until there is nothing left but the days waiting for the end. No thanks. Do not want.

Yet aging isn’t what’s so scary and insidious when it comes to “We Spread”. It’s memory and time; or, rather, the lack of both and the way it can be messed with and we would never know it once our minds start to close certain pathways down in order to conserve power so we can live just that much longer. I may not even be 50 yet, but some of this is deeply familiar to me, since I have a form of epilepsy where I lose chunks of time. At its worst, I lost months at a time. My greatest fear was (and still is) that someone in my life will gaslight me and start telling me I did things and just start telling me, “Oh, you just don’t remember.” Can you imagine? Not having enough control over your memories that someone could tell you something and because of your memory you believe them because you trust them? (Yes, I have major trust issues.)

This book is, in a way, deeply touching in the way it practically begs us to look at the elderly not as a group, but as individual people who still have something to give to the world. Not people who should just be put into a home and forgotten, but people who still have stories to tell, wisdom to spread, beauty to show, affection to give, and memories to share (even when they’re fragmented). The elderly aren’t to be dismissed or underestimated. They are still people with hearts and minds. It’s a lesson most of the western world has forgotten.

The way in which Reid chooses to put a big, red pin on this issue is by setting this book inside a private long-term residence care home, where there are only four elderly residents: two females, two males, and all four have very distinctive areas of specialty. A musician. A mathematician. A linguist. An artist. A holistic education for any young mind. But these minds aren’t young. Their caregiver is obsessed with keeping them productive, making sure they eat, making sure they’re clean, making sure they sleep. Normally, these would all be the hallmarks of the very best kind of caregiver, if it didn’t come with hefty doses of gaslighting (but is it?), undercurrents of malice (or are we imagining it?), casual dismissals of patient concerns, the mistreatment of other patients (or have we just forgotten what happened to them?).

The prose is beautiful even when sad or reflective. It’s downright striking when the scenes are awkward, malevolent, or downright frightening.

What was the most surprising thing about this book for me is how fast it moves. I was reading a 250 page book yesterday and it took me all day. I read this book in less than five hours. That’s how engrossing, compelling, and simply fantastic this book is. It’s absolutely a psychological thriller at its finest.

Thanks to NetGalley, Gallery Books, and Scout Press for granting me access to this title in exchange for a fair and honest review.