The following podcast contains explicit language. Welcome to the Slate Audio Book Club's discussion of Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant by Roz Chast. I'm Dan Cois. I'm the editor of the Slate Book Review, and I'm here in Slate's DC Recording Studio. Joining me here is Slate writer and double-ex founder, Hanna Rosen. Hello, Hannah. Hi, Dan. And joining us from Connecticut is Slate Senior

Editor Emily Bazelon. Hey. Hey, Dan. So, as is always the case with the audiobook club, we'll be

spoiling the events of the book. So if that is something that matters to you, you should not listen

and tell you after you've read the book, although in this case, the spoiler is that all things must

pass and all humans must die.

So I don't know if that's like a big surprise to anyone listening.

So let's talk about the book.

Roz Chas grew up in a small apartment in Brooklyn.

And then 40 years later, her parents still in their 90s, still lived in that exact same apartment,

more and more crowded as it was getting with stuff.

Can't we talk about something more pleasant is the cartoon memoir of Roz Chas'

Chas' parents' final years in the apartment, their move to an assisted living facility,

and their decline and deaths at ages 95 and 97?

Today, in our discussion, we'll talk about how Chas portrays her parents,

about whether this memoir can serve as a guidebook of

sorts for grown children of seniors facing similar struggles and how comics help Chess tell

the story in a way that simple words could not. But first, let's delve into these parents,

Elizabeth and George. Hanna, how would you describe this loving Brooklyn couple?

Loving.

You kind of set me up there.

I don't know if I would use loving as a word that I would associate with them.

They never leave each other's sides.

...