This book, a collection of poetry by Sabrina Benaim, is broadly themed and toned as you'd expect from the title: a hard-hitting series of world-weary sarcastic-yet-sympathetic reflections on what we do when the Black Dog comes to visit, how we put up with it, explain its housekeeping to others, feed it, take it for walks, etcetera. I felt myself quite deeply reflected in some of these - the minutiae, the tiny borderline-inexplicable agonies, the moments of unadulterated bliss when the fog lifts for a minute or a day - Benaim has written a highly-relatable collection here that never skews or preaches its perspective but paints instead a dynamic series of complex murals, yet laid out in clear strokes. Powerful comfort reading for anyone who has also found themselves adrift in conversations with a doctor or parent or in half-imagined hypothetical reworkings of memories and encounters; sometimes there's just too much noise underwater to make sense of it all, and we fail and feel worse for doing so, but when writers like Sabrina manage to articulate these sinks or cliff-edges in recognisably intuitive chunks of sheer language - it basically is magic, and it will let its reader feel far less alone in the world for hearing so done well.
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