What readers think of Small Rain, plus links to write your own review.

"Small Rain" by Garth Greenwell starts in the claustrophobic confines of an American emergency room during the pandemic's peak. I, for one, am thankful for having never experienced that firsthand. After the ER, we ended up in a hospital room, explained by the dizzying stream of consciousness accented by page-long paragraphs.

We meander from the nameless narrator's abusive upbringing and difficult early adulthood, the kinds of things that one ponders when considering one's mortality. It all adds up to a dizzying experience when we do not precisely know what to feel. If discussing your health led to concerns about your mortality, you may relate to many of the narrator's thoughts. He has no name, and his loved ones only have initials.

The articles describe the book as an indictment of our healthcare system, but the writer does not blame the employees. The bare-bones budget does not engender a fault-free atmosphere. The uncertainty allows the patient to think about the pride of homeownership and his understanding of poetry. The mind goes here when the doctors try to solve multiple mysteries simultaneously.

The process seems like a dream, how we envision one's life passing before one's eyes. What memories did your mind catalog, and which would be necessary when you start thinking about "the end"? Even when you face the possibility of going home, patients feel like they are institutionalized and fear the next steps. The feeling is always pleasant, but the author gets it right.

I would marvel at horror movies that did not seem like much as I watched them but made me nervous walking out into the regular world. "Small Rain" works like that. The author may appear to be rambling, but the story stays with you when you think about life. I was on the journey with him.