While living in a world on the brink of environmental collapse, a young woman prepares for the return of a violent figure from her past.
In a near-future England devastated by climate change, Penelope and her partner, Aidan, have converted a massive, crumbling country house into a residence for climate migrants. Penelope was once an aspiring art historian, but living through the rise of homelessness, hunger, and political instability has made her academic ambitions appear untenable: “Ideas and theories could no longer hold together the disparate parts of the world.” Now, she spends her days preparing meals for residents and venturing into the derelict city center for supplies. But as repairs pile up and resources grow scarce, Penelope and Aidan are forced to sell the estate and its remaining valuable objects. As part of the sale, the couple decides to invite Aidan’s fierce, detached brother, Julian, to see the house he grew up in one final time. As Julian’s arrival grows near, Penelope is roiled by harrowing memories of their brief romance—and one unforgettable, terrible night. She can’t sleep, kept awake by nightmares in which ravenous termites destroy her home. By day, Penelope throws herself into her archival work, preparing the house for sale by cataloging its contents—pictures, postcards, novels, albums of stamps and flowers—descriptions of which are interwoven throughout the text. Shifting between Penelope’s diary entries and an omniscient description of Julian’s passage to England by train, the novel builds an electric undercurrent of doom. Despite an unflappable, subdued narrative tone, there’s legitimate suspense as Julian nears Penelope’s home.
In cool, sinewy prose, this astute and timely novel explores the roles of beauty, art, and passion in a time of survival.