I thought about how much I wanted to enjoy the sunshine and the hummingbirds and the flowers. Enjoying life as it unfolded was always hard. Since Constance died it seemed physically impossible. It was all just a long, infinite blacktop of things you'd regret not enjoying later.
This is the third and I hope not the last Claire DeWitt novel from the beautiful, esoteric mind of Sara Gran and it's been a joy to watch her writing evolve over the course of this trilogy. And while on the surface, these books are mysteries, they are really about heartbreak and connection. Redemption and resilience. Metaphysics and breaking the nose of some louse who takes credit for your work.
This book picks up right at the end of the second one. Claire DeWitt, the world's both greatest and most idiosyncratic detective, awakes banged up as hell from a hit and run that she's sure is a murder attempt. Who and why are the questions along with what will Claire do instead of going to the hospital, which is walk off with a concussion, possible broken bones, and a cop's taser. A stolen car and a handful of illegal stimulants later, Claire is out to solve the mystery of who is trying to kill her, which she is sure is connected to the greatest mystery of her life: what happened to her childhood friend Tracy, the girl who could have been the world's greatest detective.
Poor Claire has had so much pain in her life. Tracy, her mentor Constance murdered in a random mugging, investigating the homicide of the man who was probably her true love in the last book.
"I'm fucking up everything. Everything I've done has been a mistake."
"Yes...Probably. That's what it means to be a person. It means you make horrible decisions, and you fuck everything up. It means you love people, and they leave. It means sometimes no one loves you at all. That's the state of like 90 percent of humanity at any given moment. You don't need to make a religion out of it. You don't need to memorialize everything that hurts. Everything changes, and half of finding peace in life is to stop resisting it. Someone who loved you yesterday doesn't love you today. Someone you loved is gone now."
So, not to get too personal but as I read this I was flying across the country to attend what would soon be a family member's funeral and help another family member with a breakthrough Covid infection they caught while staying with them in the hospital (I'm fine, everybody is fine. Thank you science for the booster shot and monoclonal antibodies.) I sincerely love Sara Gran and the universe (and the Columbus Public Library) for sending me these words right when I needed them.
But, sometimes, a crab did get out. Change was possible. At least for crabs. Maybe for me. I saw one escape from the barrel, sidle all the way across the pier, clicking his claws on the wood all the way, and jump back into the giant, dark, mysterious ocean, where life was harder, but the rewards, on some dim foggy mornings, at least for a few minutes, at least sometimes, were worth it.
I hope all is well in your world, friends.