Last Alive by David B. Seaburn Book Review

“Last Alive is an imperfect jigsaw of grief, where all the pieces fit together but time and the obscurity of daily life make it difficult to see the greater picture. A tender ache will find its way beneath your chest as you read; it will be gently soothed by the genuine, remedial beauty of a simple life.”

Death interrupts Leon and Emma Miltenson’s weekly scheduled programme in the cruelest of ways. With it being labelled a tragic accident, Leon struggles to make sense of the impartial hand of coincidence. The senseless nature of that pivotal moment throws Leon into a state of great unrest. Grief floats about the apartment they shared, usurping entire rooms, embedding itself within her belongings, selfishly stealing rituals formed over half a century of cohabitation for itself. Life feels stale in the wake of loss, as if all its meaning has been bled out of it. The thought of moving beyond the present is insurmountable, yet, day by day, the act of remembrance lifts him out of bed in the morning. His roadside vigil becomes the purpose needed to defeat the slow creep of indifference.

Spoiler-Free Plot

Wooden crosses decorate Calvin’s garage, lying in wait for those who will need one to commemorate the death of their loved one. Each one marks an attempt at reconciling his own guilt over the death of his teenage son. None has yet been able to shake the feeling loose long enough for him to feel alive again.

Tragedy has been a part of Kendall Fulmer’s life since the beginning of his history. He was abandoned at birth, raised by a single father, then bullied for the uncontrollable absence of a mother. He wants nothing more than to make his father—his hero—proud. Instead, he adds one more notch to his growing list of misfortunes.

Griffin has been alone for decades. He lost everything by doing what he felt was right. If he could take it all back, he would in an instant. Self-hatred festers inside of him, driving his slow deterioration like a failing organ. For him, happiness exists only in brief moments, in between slow inhalations of gas from a canister.

A set of pyjamas worn on entirely the wrong occasion marks a crisis that leads to Janene’s hospitalisation and eventual departure from her place of work. Up to the present day, her life had floated from one point to the next; she found herself exactly wherever she needed to be when her presence was required. She recalls how she stumbled into her profession, almost by accident, exceeding her own expectations and excelling in a field where compassion is paramount. A phone call from her father means something has gone wrong. The stark emptiness of her existence demands a confrontation, as does the emotional distance sitting between her and her widower father, Leon, who shares more in common with his daughter than both would be willing to admit.

My Take On Last Alive

Last Alive is a scene suspended in a water globe depicting a landscape staged with both recent and sustained tragedies. Whichever way readers examine the globe as they pick it up and turn it over in their hands, the grief whips about before it remembers how to settle, revealing stark details which rise to meet their eyes, exposing the inner torment the characters must endure. It rolls from one sadness to the next, from chapter to chapter, bouncing between points of view, giving us an intimate perspective of their shame, triumphs and failures. The everyday nature of these tragedies—all except Emma’s one-in-a-million freak accident—invokes a quiet sense of forlornment within us. Maybe it’s the reminder of how mundane or unspectacular our own bereavements might be, including our own eventual passing. In the grand scheme of things, our existence is but a brief passing through time. It is temporary and might leave nothing more than a small mark on the world around us that will soon be erased or written over with time. However, the importance of THIS book in particular is that it serves as a reminder that our memory will live on with those we leave behind. We can bring them both comfort and pain from beyond the veil. It is down to them to navigate which one of those two offerings drives them as they carry on without us.

I found myself lost in the beautiful prose David Seaburn has deployed to tackle some of the most difficult themes plaguing our post-pandemic, hyper-individualistic society. As the hard-hitting commentary was parsed through, the way it was written, using such intentional language, bloomed hope within the heaviness of the various characters’ burdens. I especially enjoyed the relatability of the small world contained within the pages of the story. Yes, the locations may be real, but the fictional nature of the people allows readers to transpose themselves onto this cast of normal, average people. In this way, our problems feel surmountable. Maybe the book can help us draw a map through our own strife, reminding us that even though the possibility of change might get lost somewhere in the middle of it all, a chance remains to fix things at the end, before it is too late.

Age Rating

16 years and above

Content Warning

Alcoholism, Bullying, Death, Domestic Violence, Foul Language, Substance Abuse.

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