



Losing Music
A Memoir
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- 9,99 €
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- 9,99 €
Description de l’éditeur
“In his moving memoir, John Cotter anticipates a world without sound . . . a compelling portrait of how deafness isolates people.” —The Washington Post
John Cotter was thirty years old when he first began to notice a ringing in his ears. Soon the ringing became a roar inside his head. Next came partial deafness, then dizziness and vertigo that rendered him unable to walk, work, sleep, or even communicate. At a stage of life when he expected to be emerging fully into adulthood, teaching and writing books, he found himself “crippled and dependent,” and in search of care.
When he is first told that his debilitating condition is likely Ménière’s Disease, but that there is “no reliable test, no reliable treatment, and no consensus on its cause,” Cotter quits teaching, stops writing, and commences upon a series of visits to doctors and treatment centers. What begins as an expedition across the country navigating and battling the limits of the American healthcare system, quickly becomes something else entirely: a journey through hopelessness and adaptation to disability. Along the way, hearing aids become inseparable from his sense of self, as does a growing understanding that the possibilities in his life are narrowing rather than expanding. And with this understanding of his own travails comes reflection on age-old questions around fate, coincidence, and making meaning of inexplicable misfortune.
A devastating memoir that sheds urgent, bracingly honest light on both the taboos surrounding disability and the limits of medical science, Losing Music is refreshingly vulnerable and singularly illuminating—a story that will make readers see their own lives anew.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
In this bracing memoir, essayist Cotter (Under the Small Lights) recounts his experience with an incurable inner ear disorder. In his early 30s, Cotter began having problems with his hearing, and what started as a ringing in his ears became "a jet-engine roar" accompanied by debilitating bouts of vertigo. Seeking a diagnosis and treatment, he traveled across the country to meet with specialists and underwent a battery of tests; the uncertainty and fear surrounding his mysterious condition led Cotter to contemplate suicide, which, he reasoned, "may be a cruelty to those around me, but I saw it as a kindness." Eventually, he was diagnosed with Ménière's disease and struggled to accept that his hearing loss could be permanent. But with his caring spouse and a passion for the arts, Cotter learned how to adapt to his new life. Cotter is frank about the "shock" of being "someone in a position of such social privilege to find himself falling into any amount of marginalization," and he captures the frustration of trying to communicate with doctors: "Medical personnel are very good at explaining things in either the simplest or the most complex possible terms, but little in between." The result is a poignant reflection on disability.