BookCourt Bookstore - Brooklyn NY

NOTICE: This event will be highly attended. First come, first served! We expect to reach full capacity.

About This Is How You Lose Her:

Pulitzer Prize-winner Junot Díaz’s first book, Drown, established him as a major new writer with “the dispassionate eye of a journalist and the tongue of a poet” (Newsweek). His first novel, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, was named number one Fiction Book of the Year” by Time magazine and spent more than 100 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list, establishing itself – with more than a million copies in print – as a modern classic. In addition to the Pulitzer, Díaz has won a host of major awards and prizes, including the National Book Critic’s Circle Award, the PEN/Malamud Award, the PEN/O. Henry Prize, the Dayton Literary Peace Prize, and the Anisfield-Wolf Award.

Now Díaz turns his remarkable talent to the haunting, impossible power of love – obsessive love, illicit love, fading love, maternal love. On a beach in the Dominican Republic, a doomed relationship flounders. In the heat of a hospital laundry room in New Jersey, a woman does her lover’s washing and thinks about his wife. In Boston, a man buys his love child, his only son, a first baseball bat and glove. At the heart of these stories is the irrepressible, irresistible Yunior, a young hardhead whose longing for love is equaled only by his recklessness--and by the extraordinary women he loves and loses: artistic Alma; the aging Miss Lora; Magdalena, who thinks all Dominican men are cheaters; and the love of his life, whose heartbreak ultimately becomes his own. In prose that is endlessly energetic, inventive, tender, and funny, the stories in This Is How You Lose Her lay bare the infinite longing and inevitable weakness of the human heart. They remind us that passion always triumphs over experience, and that “the half-life of love is forever.”

Praise:

“Exhibits the potent blend of literary eloquence and street cred that earned him a Pulitzer Prize…Diaz’s prose is vulgar, brave, and poetic.” – O Magazine

“Ribald, streetwise, and stunningly moving—a testament, like most of his work, to the yearning, clumsy ways young men come of age.” -Vogue

“Searing, sometimes hilarious, and always disarming … Readers will remember why everyone wants to write like Díaz, bring him home, or both. Raw and honest, these stories pulsate with raspy ghetto hip-hop and the subtler yet more vital echo of the human heart.” –  Publishers Weekly (starred)

“Díaz’s standout fiction remains pinpoint, sinuous, gutsy, and imaginative…Each taut tale of unrequited and betrayed love and family crises is electric with passionate observations and off-the-charts emotional and social intelligence…Fast-paced, unflinching, complexly funny, street-talking tough, perfectly made, and deeply sensitive, Díaz’s gripping stories unveil lives shadowed by prejudice and poverty and bereft of reliable love and trust. These are precarious, unappreciated, precious lives in which intimacy is a lost art, masculinity a parody, and kindness, reason, and hope struggle to survive like seedlings in a war zone.” – Booklist (starred review)

“Díaz’s third book is as stunning as its predecessors. These stories are hard and sad, but in Díaz’s hands they also crackle.” – Library Journal (starred)

“ Magnificent…an exuberant rendering of the driving rhythms and juicy Spanglish vocabulary of immigrant speech…sharply observed and morally challenging.” – Kirkus

“A beautifully stirring look at ruined relationships and lost love—and a more than worthy follow-up to [Diaz’s] 2007 Pulitzer winner, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao.”- BookPage

"One of contemporary fiction's most distinctive and irresistible voices." --- Michiko Kakutani, The New York Times

“Talent this big will always make noise.” —Newsweek

“Graceful and raw and painful and smart. . . . The pages turn and all of a sudden you’re done and you want more.” —The Boston Globe

“Like Raymond Carver, Díaz transfigures disorder and disorientation with a rigorous sense of form. . . . [He] wrings the heart with
finely calibrated restraint.” —The New York Times Book Review