IS THIS A CRY FOR HELP?

A librarian struggles under the weight of both personal tragedy and public controversy.

It’s Darcy’s first day back at the local public library following a two-month mental health leave, and she steps directly into the line of fire as a patron complains about a man watching porn on one of the computers. The controversy escalates when right-wing journalist Declan Turner gets the library in his sights, launching complaints about a liberal agenda. On top of that, Darcy’s wife, Joy, is leaving to help her sister with her newborn daughter, a cat named Kyle shows up at the library looking for a home, a persistent patron keeps emailing Darcy with oddly specific questions about birds, and Darcy inadvertently leaks her own nude picture on social media. On top of that, she’s still dealing with lingering guilt over the death of her ex-boyfriend, Ben, the discovery of which sent her spiraling into her breakdown two months ago. Darcy’s first-person narration shines in its calm, logical tone, almost detached, no matter what new crisis befalls her. On finding out that her niece was born missing her middle and ring fingers, her response is: “That’s good, I think. She can’t flip people off with her left hand, but she can just use her right hand for that.” The library’s mission to provide unrestricted access to diverse materials is central to the novel, as Darcy and her coworkers fight to represent all information. Though readers with Darcy’s logical powers may have to suspend disbelief at all these events happening at once, the payoff is a number of thoughtful, incrementally impactful revelations that show Darcy’s personal growth, from believing that “I used to be someone different. Around age twenty-three, I split in two like a cell,” to acknowledging that “there is this heaviness to aging. Who I am was built on the shoulders of the person I was last year, and the year before, and before, and before. I’m not just thirty-three; I’m twenty-seven. I’m eighteen. I’m nine. I was just born. And I have to carry all of those versions of myself…everywhere I go.”

An introspective look at difference, trauma, and identity against the backdrop of a local library.