Silvia Saunder’s Homesick is one book that feels light on the surface but carries depth that sneaks up on you. It’s funny and warm while exploring complicated adulthood moments, like figuring out who you are, learning to live by yourself, and loving others when life isn’t working out for them or you. I enjoyed this book so much that I read it on a Saturday (400+ pages!).
The central character is Mara, a 26-year-old woman who receives a surprise inheritance after her father's death. She’s now sharing her flat with her childhood friend, Lewis, whom she’s not sure she likes anymore. Following her mother’s advice, she makes the immense decision to buy an apartment and attempt to live on her own. But buying an apartment in London is an adventure on its own, and soon she finds out that what she thought was quite a sum of money can barely get her a studio in a good neighbourhood. Nevertheless, she persists, and her effort is rewarded by finding an apartment she feels comfortable to call home (not after some hilarious encounters with real estate agents).
Her struggle for independence is not the only thing that doesn’t work in her life. Her job is a dead end - she is a librarian and loves her job, but her boss is borderline harassing her under the guise of friendship. Her boyfriend of over four years has been distant and hardly gets in touch, as he lives and works on the other side of London; something is going on with Tom that she can’t put her finger on until the moment when he has a breakdown, which reveals he’s been suffering from depression, intensified by his job as a teacher. Mara finds herself as a caregiver, not in a real partnership. Saunders does a great job at building their relationship, emphasising the toll depression takes on the loved ones of people suffering from this disease.
Loving Tom is not easy. Mara finds herself waiting, holding her life in a kind of suspended animation, unsure whether she should stay and hope he gets better or let go and move on. It’s heartbreaking, this limbo of loving someone who can’t fully be with you, of whom you can’t ask anything, as it would make them spiral into intense breakdowns. There is guilt, frustration, and helplessness in Mara, constantly questioning herself: should she stay? Should she leave? Is she doing enough? Is her presence making things worse for Tom?
In her struggles, her mother - now a widow, having lost the love of her life - is constantly on her side, unconditionally loving her and supporting her through everything Mara goes through. I loved the mother’s presence and her sixth sense, constantly feeling when Mara was in trouble and either calling her or showing up just to be with her. Without asking any questions, her powerful presence is enough to stabilise Mara and give her the sense she is not alone in the world, not even when Tom leaves his job and London and her best friend stops talking to her (as she has a different view about how she should have handled the situation with Tom).
The best part about the book is that it tackles all these heavy topics, yet it remains lighthearted and hilarious. Mara’s dry, self-aware humour makes her feel like someone you know, someone you’d want to talk to over a cup of coffee and, perhaps, embrace when she needs it. Saunders also nails the bittersweetness of moving forward in life, and her new flat is a symbol of freedom and self-reliance, but it’s also lonely at times. Adulthood, as the book shows so well, is rarely the clean, empowering journey we expect, it’s messy, filled with doubts and detours, and highly relatable.
Finally, this is a great read, with the right depth and humour to catch you and keep you engaged until the last page. If you like Sally Rooney, Coco Mellors, and books that explore contemporary angst and relationships, this book is a must-read. Thank you, @putrifariza and @times.reads, for the ARC!