Yael Goldstein-Love's THE POSSIBILITIES was not a book I expected to find myself enjoying so thoroughly as I did. I got it from NetGalley as an arc, picking it up only because I believed it could pass the time. But by the time I was three chapters deep into the book, there was no way to escape: the claws of The Possibilities, shards of motherhood and responsibility and reality, had dug so deep into my arm that I physically couldn't put it down.
The book follows Hannah, who is a mother first and a human second, or maybe a mother first and only a mother at all. Like all mothers, she's haunted by the possibilities of those "what-ifs"—what if her son had died, what if her son goes missing, what if her son had never existed? But the difference is, of course, that of those infinite possibilities, she begins to see them all playing out: hallucinations plague her, haunting her day and night, until she's destroyed her marriage, her sanity, and her relationship with herself. Of course, it all goes wrong when her son genuinely goes missing—and worst of all, despite her numerous attempts to convince them otherwise, most people are convinced he died eight months back, only minutes after he was born.
And so it goes. From the first page, we're thrust into Hannah's worst: a state of constant anxiety and horror. Her entire worldview is pinned on her son; we get the sense that the entirety of the earth could go up in flames and she wouldn't notice, so long as Jack—her baby—was safe. Admittedly, it took me three separate tries to get past the first chapter, mainly because Hannah is so fraught with panic that, as a childless woman, it's hard to connect with her. But as we progress, it's clear that Hannah is no longer Hannah, but Jack's mother: the real strength of this book lies in her overwrought connection with her son, so ferocious and terrible she'd destroy the world for him. The more this is shown, the easier it is to connect with her, and so when the real story begins to unfold, we can go into it with a perfect sense of who Hannah is as a character.
From there, I'll branch out into three separate categories: plot, characters, and themes. The first is simple; without spoilers, the plot revolves around Hannah attempting to get Jack back from wherever he is, if he exists at all, along with the help of her estranged husband and newfound friends. The second category: characters. As Hannah begins to form bonds outside her immediate family, Goldstein-Love makes a point to show that Hannah must learn to develop outside of motherhood. The complex theme of feminism while still falling into traditional gender roles—the devoted mother vs. the independent woman—is developed throughout the course of this book; Hannah's friends, including the stubborn, headstrong Ash—a fellow mother who comes off brash and cruel, but who has a heart of gold—help her see that motherhood, like all things, are simply a crossroads: she can choose either path and still decide to be a person. She is, at heart, still a person, not just a mother. Similarly, other characters help develop the sciencey parts of this book. Admittedly, I'm not too skilled at anything beyond basic physics, but The Possibilities truly delves into the world of the multiverse and infinite possibilities without making the explanation too twisty-turny or confusing. There was no point in time where I found myself disoriented by the science behind what was happening, just what was happening itself.
And, of course, the themes: as mentioned, feminism as it intertwines with motherhood; but also then, motherhood as it intertwines with the world. Goldstein-Love's depiction of motherhood as this all-consuming, magical thing isn't unique, but how she goes about it—combining it with the ideas of crossroads and multiple realities—is utterly so. (As a note, I've noted before that authors treat motherhood as some sort of bioessentialist thing, whereas G-L makes a point of saying it comes from the strength of one's feelings, not their biology.) As Hannah moves forward, making friends, making a name for herself, saving her child, she's given the chance to become her own person: and yet, she is completely true to herself and her child. Especially interesting was how her feelings were treated after motherhood; as Hannah develops, she comes to realize that people treated her emotions as lesser because of her status as a mother, but that she deserves better. Her development, while subtle, has this feeling of authenticity. Despite the unrealistic—or realistic; I'm not sure, I'm not a scientist—plot of the book, Hannah comes off as real: dedicated, loving, desperate for love as much as she is desperate to love. Genuinely, I walked out of this book with a higher respect for mothers and motherhood. Not sure if this is what G-L was going for, but it's certainly what I came out with.
And, not to take away from the themes and the plot, but the descriptions and writing style G-L wrote / achieved blew me away. Every single sentence she wrote was plotted at exactly the right point in time, whether it served as a callback or a precursor to something else. Even as Hannah moves through another episode, traveling through reality, the writing fits her harried, rushed emotions perfectly. As a writer, G-L is incredibly talented, and I can't wait to read more of her books in the future.
5 stars. 6, if I could.