”Raft of Leaves, en fin och intressant samling berättelser om livet, döden och det däremellan.”
“Death is the one country to which we all, sooner or later, are granted entry. With this book we can explore the borderlands between life and death, between generations, countries and cultures. Do not fear. Yes, in between lies fear, rootlessness, fatigue and old ghosts, but also love, extravagant curtains, music by Ravi Shankar and chocolate. Above all, these writers have furnished a guest room adjoining the Kingdom of the Dead where Marti and her writings live on.”
Philip de Croy
Thanatologist, PhD candidate and author of Boken för dig som en dag ska dö
"A reflection on death and a tribute to life”
“Short stories, longer stories, poems and an occasional photography, all in honour of Marti Parker, a scientist and an author. But this slender book is also a reflection on death and a tribute to life.”
Stefan Einhorn
Professor at Karolinska Institutet
His latest book was entitled Konsten att fördärva sitt liv
“Interesting, entertaining and warming to the soul.”
Catharina Ingelman-Sundberg
the author of The little old lady who broke all the rules
“Living abroad is all too often viewed through the prism of youth, an adventure to be embarked upon, a culture to be learned, a new life to be built. But Raft of Leaves reminds us that wherever our adventures take us, we can't outpace life's inevitabilities.
“In one of the longer pieces in this finely-balanced collection of prose and poetry, M Gale Parker writes that 'we need the space of time and distance'. Raft of Leaves gives us just that, leaving the reader with the sense not of finality but of approaching a horizon; an understanding of where we’ve been and a sense of peace about where we’re going.
“Richly seasoned with the foreigner's curiosity and eye for detail, these moving meditations are a celebration of our ability to adapt - to life in a new culture, to ageing and disease, and, ultimately, to the prospect of death.”Paul Rapacioli
Founder of The Local and author of Good Sweden Bad Sweden
"Beautiful reflections on life, aging and death."
Mats Thorslund
Professor Emeritus at Karolinska Institutet
Re-searching for truth, beauty, and compassion
The first meeting
There are signs in life that I have learned to not disregard. Almost thirty years ago, a young woman passed by my lab, then located in the ex-maternity clinic at Sabbatsberg Hospital. I liked that place. Those rooms that had welcomed innumerable new lives into the world helped us to be creative in our work. Trying to understand why we are aging—and why so differently—was (and is) my everyday work. A dark-haired woman with intense blue eyes asked, in a gentle but decisive tone, for a short meeting. She worked in the same field and was curious about our research. She asked questions with such an open attitude, revealing not only her competence but also her commitment to understanding how we could help older adults to age with dignity and to maintain a satisfying, healthy life. In spite of her fragile appearance and soft behavior, from the first moments I had no doubt as to her strength. This was the first time I met Marti, and it was clear to me that it would not be the last. Several years later I got the opportunity to collaborate with her. I was ready.
A 20th century scientist with a renaissance touch
Twenty years of working together on a daily basis have left me with not one bad memory, but with many regrets and a rich heritage for all of Marti’s colleagues and friends. I regret mostly that I did not spend more time with her, did not write down our discussions, different points of view, ideas for future development. Daily tasks, deadlines, requests, reports, analyses, experiments, papers—these were always the priorities. It is difficult to escape them and limit their invasion, but Marti always found the time to be engaged outside professional life. She found her space. I discovered this capacity the first time we collaborated, and I admired her even more. I was fascinated by her strong wish to feed her soul, not only her mind, and to spend more than marginal time on it every day. For most persons working in science, this is not easy, but for her there was no separation between the two worlds. Doing science and writing novels were two creative moments that filled her major scope in life, making a difference for the most fragile people we studied.
I have met many inspiring people during my professional life, but no one who has really succeeded in seeking beauty and compassion in our scientific work as Marti did. Learning from the oldest old people, listening to their voices, involving them in the search for reasonable solutions, speaking with them—these were essential tools in the implementation of our research on aging. Her activity as a novelist and her experience in human contacts supported her scientific work toward a profound exchange of experience without any rhetoric or artificiality. She was a sensitive, twentieth century woman, well connected to our societies’ cultural and scientific history. As a Tosco-Swedish citizen, I could see signs of my beloved Florence´s past in her. Her profile, her style, her words were as elegant as a Botticelli painting.
I do regret not having devoted more time for us. Carrying out research on aging inevitably raises questions on life from philosophical and ethical perspectives. When we followed older adults getting older and older, we came close to their frailty, sickness, pain, physical limitations, and, consequently, their feelings of frustration, discrimination, and worthlessness. We were constantly reminded of the finitude of human life. Together, Marti and I discovered the urgency of listening, understanding, and seeing the differences and alternatives. And we found within our work the wish to explore new avenues to solutions for us and for the older persons: adaptation, acceptance, compromise, the capacity to ask for help, and the desire and will to live entirely up to the end.
Often we asked ourselves if we were on the right track, if our work had some relevant implications and implementations, if we were not merely disturbing and stressing people already having difficulties. We used all our and others’ expertise and experience to minimize the risks, to increase the benefits, and to avoid the possible negative consequences of our research activity. We devoted a lot of time to communicating and spreading our scientific findings. We taught each other the right words and the best ways to help older adults be seen as an opportunity, a richness, instead of a problem for our society. I still work on this with the same passion.
The finely mannered outsider
Well integrated into Swedish society, Marti never stopped being American. She took the best from the two cultures and happily shared this fusion with us at work. We benefitted from her multicultural background when we carried out scientific studies with precision and rigorous methods, but always as a team, open to discussion and friendly confrontation. Her unconventional way of thinking put her often in situations where she presented different opinions from to the majority. She was not afraid of being an outsider. And she never lost her gentle manner when disagreeing with colleagues, editors, reviewers and collaborators. Nor when fighting to defend her own rights in her academic career. Her intelligence and comprehensive view of the world did not lead her to a snobbish and aristocratic attitude but helped her to develop innovative approaches.
Her strong belief in human rights and societal commitment were the basis of her research. The elderly people, the most fragile of them, and the women were the focus of her scientific work. How can we improve their health? How can we improve their care? How can we decrease health-care inequalities? I wonder what she would have said if she had been with us during this terrible pandemic, when inequalities in protection against the virus and in care provision emerged even in democratic and equalitarian Sweden. How would Marti have acted in the face of the limited international solidarity and the dramatic absence of a vaccination plan for the poorest countries of the world?
During these last thirteen months, I have often thought of Marti, recalling her style and her societal engagement. I wanted to implement as much as possible of her heritage, of her inspiring ideas. But I miss her smile, her strong and precise wording even when expressing the most serious criticism. I miss our discussion of strategies, our way to integrate her reflective approach to any critical situation with my more intuitive and spontaneous reaction. I am sure that we could have found more effective ways to help public health authorities in protecting the elderly persons against COVID-19. I am sure that her presence would have made a difference, because her strength came from her internal freedom, her compassion for all human suffering, and her belief that scientific thinking could provide the right answers for all discriminated groups, especially when old, sick, and in a lower social position.
Marti’s legacy
Being an outsider, as Marti was, with an unconventional way of thinking, cultural differences, and strong social beliefs, does not often make for an easy life. I do not know how she experienced it, but I am convinced that she was one of us who found a very good balance. This balance is now speaking from her professional achievements, in her production, in her novels, in her essays. The search for beauty has given her this capacity, and we can enjoy it also now as a precious gift.
Laura Fratiglioni
professor at Karolinska Institutet Aging Research Center, Marti Parker’s colleague and employer