“The Memory of Animals” by Claire Fuller

I can’t remember how it was that I recently heard Claire Fuller has a fifth book out (although I can hazard a guess: Instagram has just recently become A Thing for me, and I follow @writerclairefuller), but I do remember the progression of my thoughts when I realized this: first, YAY! Next, it came out in 2023 and I’m just now hearing about it?? (Notice the placement of the word "recently" in my first sentence. It doesn't modify  "has a fifth book out." It modifies the "heard.") Then, oh… it’s a pandemic novel about a vaccine trial… well, ok, it’s still Claire Fuller. And, hm, interesting cover, but OK. 

So I placed an order right away, and started reading the minute it arrived, and. Well. I absolutely loved it. I'm almost afraid to say how much I really loved it, because I want Sam to read it and I don't want him to have unrealistically elevated expectations, because I want him to love it as much as I did. So maybe I should shut up about how good it was? (Because of course, you know, Sam is one of the nine people who reads this blog.) And also there was a conversation scene which, for me, rang false, so the book isn't absolutely perfect. (Sorry, Claire!) But I just loved the shared experience (pandemic) made alien (vaccine trial) with the scifi element thrown in (which, based on Fuller's first four books, I would not have expected) AND it was a really compelling story and I just wanted to read and read and read. Plus, octopuses! Or octopi? Octopodes? Anyway, there seems to be a lot of those about these days (see Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt, which I haven't read, and The Life Cycle of the Common Octopus by Emma Knight, which doesn't come out until early next year although I'm looking forward to reading it). (Three is a lot, right?)

I think if you liked Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow, or Birnham Wood (yes, I'm talking directly to you, Sam--you, who loved both of those books!) you will like this one as well. I think you just need to ignore the fact that it's about a pandemic (as did I) and the fact that it's about a vaccine trial, and you will quickly recognize that it's just such a good story. Instead of reminding you of all the worst parts about COVID, this story is entirely its own thing. 

Reading this made me want to read Station Eleven (Sam read the book and thought it was great; we watched the tv series together and found it very compelling, but for me there was just too much pandemic going on in real life to think I might want to read about one). It ALSO made me want a SEQUEL! Claire Fuller seems like the opposite of an author who would write a sequel but I Just Want More. 

“Our Endless Numbered Days” by Claire Fuller

Claire Fuller is one of those authors I've placed in a small group with the likes of Ann Patchett and Sally Rooney (and fifteen others. What? That's small): the "I'd Like To Read All Their Books" group. And guess what? With this book--her first written, my fourth read--suddenly Fuller is in a smaller group: the "I've Read All Of Her Books" group. (Though, of course, with any luck, eventually she'll have more than four books published and she'll move back to the larger group, at least temporarily.) 

The first thing I wondered about this book was whether it was named after the Iron & Wine album. (It was. Although I wasn't sure of this until after I finished the book and read the Acknowledgements at the end. But I often had "Passing Afternoon" humming through my head over this past week or so.)

The second thing I wondered--as soon as I read the blurb--was when this book was published. Was it before or after Island at the End of the World? Because a father living in isolation in the woods with his young daughter isn't a story you read every day. (Island came first. But it didn't take me long to realize the two books are as different as they need to be. And actually, as I read, OEND reminded me more of my recent read Gingerbread, although occasional similarities to Island kept bubbling up.)

Eight-year-old Peggy Hillcoat, she of the British father James and German mother Ute, sets off from London with her dad for a summer vacation in a woodland cabin which he calls die Hutte. Only it’s not really a vacation, especially once they’ve eaten all the food they brought with them; and it’s not just for the summer—it ends up being more like seven of them. 

I know exactly when this book hit its stride for me: page 231, right at the beginning of chapter 21. Peggy (or Punzel, as her dad now calls her) has been aware of Reuben for a long time, but suddenly everything is different. 

So did I like this book? To be honest, I didn’t love the first twenty chapters. But the rest of the book made up for it. So, yes. Yes, I liked it. Yes, I’m still planning to read #5 when it comes out. 

“Unsettled Ground” by Claire Fuller

We made another trip to the lovely Collected Works bookstore in Santa Fe last week, and Sam found this new book for me there. I've read and enjoyed two other books by Claire Fuller, so it only makes sense that I would enjoy a third. 

The cover is not bad-looking, but unfortunately when I read the blurb on the back I found I was not interested in the premise of the story. However, I want to support independent bookstores, and it’s always nice to have a souvenir from a vacation, so I went ahead and bought the book, hoping that Fuller's amazing writing would bring me around.

Unfortunately it was not love at first chapter. As I got started reading, I found the characters boring, and everything was just so depressing and overwhelming. But I pushed on, because you know me. I can't not.

So I read and I read about middle-aged twins Julius and Jeanie, living in poverty with their mother. And I read and I read about their lives getting continually worse, even though everything was bad enough to start with. 

But as I read, a funny thing happened. Before I was halfway through, I’d reached critical mass. It was still depressing and overwhelming, and I'm not sure I ever necessarily identified with Julius or Jeanie, but I did not want to stop reading. Claire Fuller has done it again, folks. 

"Swimming Lessons" by Claire Fuller

Good book, great writing (and cool cover!) but . . . are you one of those people who can really invest in a book, finding a character you identify with (even if they're nothing like you) so that you almost become a part of the story as you read? Imagine this, and imagine that the main character's husband reminds you of your own husband, and their love reminds you of your love, and then imagine that the main character finds her husband with another woman. Imagine that, and you will know what my reading experience was like.

Setting the odd literary devastation aside, this book was cleverly written, intertwining the early days of love (starting in 1976) with the days when it was too late (1992) and present day when lost love (and their children) are putting together the memories of the past.

I think now I will be on the lookout for Our Endless Numbered Days.

"Bitter Orange" by Claire Fuller

I loved everything about this book, inside and out, with its beautiful cover and its intriguing story. It was strange and mysterious and suspenseful and enticing and I didn't want it to end but I raced to finish it anyway.

Bitter Orange tells the story of Frances Jellico, a self-taught surveyor of garden architecture who has been hired to catalogue the grounds of a decaying English manor over the summer of 1969. No longer young, she's at loose ends after the death of her invalid mother who she'd spent most of her adult life caring for. Her arrival at Lyntons introduces her to Cara and Peter, who are there to catalogue the house's interior, and Frances--who has never really experienced true friendship--is drawn into what, at first, seems to be their warm and welcoming circle . . . but, of course, it turns out to be more of a triangle. And it's all just deliciously complex and tense and ominous.

Not only that, but the bookstore where I bought Bitter Orange falls in the category of Best Bookstores Ever. If you are ever in Santa Fe, NM, you have to check out Collected Works on the corner of Galisteo and W Water Street, because I think it may be magical. It's a cozy little nook with a little coffee bar, and it gave me the sense that it is fully curated (unlike the big box stores that will sell anything and everything made of paper). It gets extra points because we were there in the wintertime and they had a warm fire roaring in their fireplace, and we could see snow flurries drifting past the windows . . .