Excerpt from review in LA Times:
Boast’s Epilogue is a beautiful and finely crafted memoir, one that recalls in its very construction the vortexes and whorls of grief, the ways that memory is a living thing and time marches forward. The book covers nearly the span of Boast’s life so far, recounts not only the story of his family and their losses, but also what happened after the death of his father. Most stunning is the discovery, among his father’s papers, of another family, a wife and two sons that his father left behind in England. In and around his account of memories and details of the family he has lost, Boast weaves the story of getting to know his two older half-brothers, and the tentative growth of a new sort of family.
The amazing accomplishment here is that these stories are told together and simultaneously. Boast allows loss to live alongside gain, just as it does in life. Each chapter of Epilogue is stand-alone, a complete entity with its own beginning, middle, and (nearly always devastating) end. They are little jewels of memory and feeling that seem to jump through time such that reading them all together can be as disorienting as it is enlightening. Certain aspects of the narrative are told and retold, echoing across the book as shouts off a cliff: the description of Boast’s childhood obsession with his father’s body, for example (“Freeze him, burn him, cut him, kiss him — he wouldn’t even flinch”), comes back in cruel relief toward the end of the book when he tells of sleeping next to him the night they learned of Rory’s death: “I felt the bulk of him next to me, the heat of him. In the dark, I turned and turned, orbiting my father’s body. When he wept, I wept.”
To read full review: https://lareviewofbooks.org/review/lost-found-2