The Absent Moon: A Memoir of a Short Childhood and a Long Depression

“A profoundly emotional book, and a brave one.” —The New Yorker A literary sensation in Brazil, Luiz Schwarcz’s brave and tender memoir interrogates his ordeal of bipolar disorder in the context of a family story of murder, dispossession, and silence—the long echo of the Holocaust across generations As a child, Luiz Schwarcz knew little about his grandfather and namesake, Lajos. Only later did he learn that Lajos, a devout Hungarian Jew, had been put on a train to a Nazi death camp with his son André, whom he ordered to leap to freedom at a rail crossing while he himself was carried on to death. What young Luiz did know was that his father, André, who had emigrated to Brazil, was an unhappy and silent man. Luiz blossomed into the family prodigy, becoming a groundbreaking literary publisher. He found a home in the family silence—a home that he filled with reading. But then, at a high point of outward success, Luiz was brought low by a mental breakdown. The Absent Moon is the story of his journey both to that point and back from it, as Luiz learned to forge a more honest relationship with his own mind, with his family, and with their shared past. The culmination is this extraordinary book—the product of a lifetime’s reflection, by a master storyteller.

Review :
“Marked by a clarity that comes from total, rigorous precision . . . reads like a liberation, not just from the form of the next-generation Holocaust memoir but also from the assumption, so common in autobiographical writing, that memory should create meaning . . . The Absent Moon is, for all its restraint, a profoundly emotional book, and a brave one.” —The New Yorker “Luiz Schwarcz's talents are well-known in his native Brazil, but now all of us can benefit from his captivating prose and incisive emotional dissection . . . Slim, small, and searing, this quiet-looking book packs an enormous punch.” —Zibby Owens, Good Morning America “This is a sto­ry of inter­gen­er­a­tional pain and its rever­ber­a­tions in every­day life. Through­out the mem­oir, we see a boy, a teen, and a man fight­ing demons—oth­ers’ and his own. That fight is some­times suc­cess­ful, some­times not, but it’s always deeply human.” —Jewish Book Council “A Brazilian writer and publisher memorably chronicles his Jewish upbringing in São Paulo as an only child plagued by depression. In this beautifully composed narrative, Schwarcz investigates the undigested trauma from his postwar childhood, a time shadowed by the long-lasting guilt and depression of his Hungarian Jewish father, András . . . ‘For years now I’ve been living in a world of few words, in an ambiguous silence,’ he writes. ‘It can be as soothing as it is oppressive and addictive. In this vacuum, my manias create alternate realities, always much more imaginary than concrete.’ Imaginary or not, these stories will resonate with anyone dealing with depression, anxiety, mental illness, and/or generational trauma. A riveting literary memoir.” —Kirkus Reviews (starred review) “In this intimate and profound description of a life often marked by depression, Luiz Schwarcz touches on the insidious power of intergenerational trauma; on the terrible challenges of functioning despite a crippling disease; and on the burden of carrying a disability in relative silence. His is ultimately a book about identity, about how the author has managed, both despite and because of his depression, to inhabit a good marriage, an excellent career, a lovely family, and, perhaps most crucially, a coherent sense of self. It is written with spare economy, tremendous bravado, and authentic courage. It is generous in spirit, devoid of self-pity, and an authentic literary achievement.” —Andrew Solomon “A beautiful work that is in turn haunting, touching and redemptive.” —Simon Sebag Montefiore “This tender and lovely memoir of a child growing up in Brazil in a household whose characters were scarred by the Holocaust is unlike anything I can think of. It is also a lyrical and intimate portrait of the author’s lifelong, harrowing battle with depression.” —Abraham Verghese, author of Cutting for Stone