by Riley Bampton
‘Razor
Carving this same face
Out of soap, each morning
Slightly less perfectly.’
Razor, from the anthology This Goes With That, was the first of Peter Goldsworthy’s poems Iever read. I picked up a copy of the book at a church op shop in the middle of my hometown and consumed it. Razor became my favourite short poem and is responsible for launching me into my love of literature. Consequently, I am now reviewing his new and possibly final book, The Cancer Finishing School. “Why write about cancer at all?” “What’s so special about yours?” Goldsworthy acknowledges the overdone concept on page 21 and yet, still manages to grip us with his unique perspective.
The book started as a self-therapeutic cancer journal and quickly grew into a labyrinth of stories from patients and their doctor, Goldsworthy. Though the book doesn’t feel like it’s written for us the readers, and it isn’t, we have been allowed to peer into intimate moments of life, and death by a well-known, well-aged and well-versed writer like Peter Goldsworthy. He is correct; this book doesn’t offeranything particularly new or exciting. However, its familiarity and superb writing style gives the book a cosy disposition, reminiscent of conversations over warm tea with my grandfather.
Despite being a doctor for 30 years, Goldsworthy’s cancer journey feels like any other, grounding the reader in this air of commonality that continues throughout the book. Starting with his surprise diagnosis from a knee ex-ray, he falls into a state of denial, then incautious optimism, pessimism and finally acceptance. His dual status as patient and doctor is a fascinating juxtaposition. Goldsworthy has said himself that he’d been on the other side of this journey countless times, so is it not surprising that he turns out to be a terrible patient. From somersaulting off a bicycle and into an open grave on a medication induced mania to nit picking his diagnosis, telling himself to ‘…get a grip doctor it’s in your head’, and blaming his sickness on ‘the cosmic joker’ he creates a comically dark memoir that invites us to share in his misfortune as you would with an old friend. This further humanises Goldsworthy, forming a common bond between him and the reader, something we are craving post Covid and something this book does exceptionally well.

In the 4 years since the pandemic, the “Covid frenzy” has subsided, though the virus itself has certainly not. During 2020/2021 the illness isolated and individualised us, teaching us that life can exist more silently and lonely than the average person had ever experienced. Coming out of the pandemic and back into connectedness has been more difficult than expected.
For three years we were told that the person next to you could have a fatally infectious virus. The Cancer Finishing School may be just another memoir of illness; however, these themes of sickness, denial, death and reluctant understanding are more relevant than ever after the Pandemic. Now that it has plateaued, Covid has left us desensitised to illness and fatality. The residual negative impacts of Covid have left us cynical. This book flips that feeling of helplessness in sickness and instead gives a guiding hand through lived experience. After years of grief and turmoil, do we not deserve a book to find comfort in? A book about the cycle of life, growing old, moving on and coming to terms with the one sickness, bar Covid, that has touched everyone.
Though I am a fan of Peter Goldsworthy’s writing I am not one without criticism. This book explores ethically grey areas of his writing, that can make for a guilt-inducing read, as if I myself am peeling back the curtain to a patient’s hospital bed against their will. With Goldsworthy being a doctor himself, The Cancer Finishing School is full of his patients’ stories. So, is using others’ intimate moments for your own personal gain a morally viable way to write? Peter touches on this in the first few pages as he explains that he has sought all permissions possible from the living and families of the dead. But what of the patients who have no surviving family to give permission? It is not fair to be using these stories, no matter the circumstances, they are not his to tell.
As a doctor who hears these stories every day, perhaps Goldsworthy has lost sight of how intimate and private they are. Maybe he is trying to normalise illness or maybe as he claims, writing is his form of therapy. Regardless, I cannot shake the feeling that I am intruding on personal moments that I have no place to experience. While this ethical unease did little to detract from my overall journey through the book, it lingered in the back of my mind. mind.
Goldsworthy’s The Cancer finishing school is a deeply moving piece on the human condition through illness. The book doesn’t give us the golden recipe to defeating death, denial and sickness, but holds our hand through this delicate journey. Sharing stories from a colourful selection of people about the universal leveller that is cancer. This book isn’t necessarily a pleasurable read, instead it is a lesson into one of life’s unavoidable truths, disguised as a conversation among friends. I recommend this book to any that would read it, but especially to the people whose lives have been or are being touched by cancer, may this book be your companion.