YA fiction
"If you shortened Harper's hair, you'd barely be able to tell them apart. And it isn't just the slope of their foreheads, or that ridge in their noses, or their supposedly rare combination of auburn hair and blue eyes. It's the way his shoulders go up a bit in that museum shot, the way that Harper's do when she's excited. That recognition--it's felt. It's old. It goes so far back that it doesn't have a name.
And it's undeniable."
You know how some books are so good you can't put them down. There are some books you want to make last because you can't stand the thought of them ending. It's like the last of you favorite seasonal candy which won't be for sale again for ages. Deb Caletti's The Epic Story of Every Living was that kind of book for me.
Harper, the only child of an overprotective single mother, feels that she can't know herself completely. Her father was a sperm donor. Her mom had told her that there was no way that they could discover his identity. She's often wondered who he was, what he was like, and what traits they share.
Imagine her surprise when she accidently discovers a half sibling, Dario, on social media and then finds out that they're both part of an open registry. So far forty-two sperm donated offspring of her biological father have been located. Some are searching for their very nomadic dad. One day Dario texts her the amazing news that they've found him.
Dario and two other of the forty-two are planning to go get to know their progenitor. They want Harper to come with them. Harper is torn. This is what she's wanted nearly all her life. But she has anxiety that was not helped by the pandemic. Only when her mother forbids her from going she finds the strength to step out of her comfort zone. Her summer of family building and self discovery makes for a most amazing read.
And there's a mystery nested within the narrative. Every chapter begins with a newspaper piece about or a letter or journal entry written by a girl named Mary Ann. Married at fifteen (in 1853) to a master mariner she goes with him (shocking back then) when he's assigned a ship to face the perils of the open sea. In addition to the suspense she adds, the reader will be left wondering what in blaze's her narrative has to do with Harper's...
...and there's one delightful way to find out.
On a purrrsonal note, when I read the book I felt jealous as fuck. Like Harper, I've had relatives kept from me.
I was old enough to vote when my mother decided to retire and move back to her native North Carolina. By then her aunt who probably had Alzheimers was living with us. Mom wasn't sure the new house would be ready. She casually told me that Tay Bland and I would be staying with her cousin Harding and his family until she sent for us. She had never mentioned his existence. He had four kids close to me in age I got along perfectly with. My time with them was a bittersweet reminder of what I lost out on and what I wouldn't be able to continue in those before internet days.
Also despite having a biological sibling, at eleven I became an only child. After Harriet became severely and irreversibly brain damaged I was seen as a deranged bully if I said or did anything that might hurt her feelings. Someone she had to be protected from. To survive I learned to treat her like she was made of glass. I dreamed of having a sibling I could be a sister rather than a social worker to. Forty-two would have felt like paradise.
A great big shout out goes out to the relatives I had far too little time with.
Jules Hathaway
Sent from my U.S.Cellular© Smartphone
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