When the river swallowed Kai, Damien’s little brother didn’t die so much as vanish.
As the unbearable loss settles deeper into his bones, Damien, a small-town line cook, walks away from everything he has ever known. Driving as far south as his old truck and his legs allow, he lands in a fishing village beyond the reach of his past where he hopes he can finally forget. But the village has grief of its own. The same day that Damien arrives, a young woman from the community’s most powerful family is being laid to rest. A stranger in town, Damien is the object of gossip and suspicion, ignored by all except the dead girl’s mother, Ana Maria, who offers Damien a room and a job.
Grateful for her kindness, Damien soon begins to fall under Ana Maria's charismatic spell. But how long can he resist the rumors swirling through town suggesting she might have had something to do with her daughter’s death? Or deny his strange kinship with one of Ana Maria's surviving daughters, Marta, who knows too well the grief that follows the loss of a sibling—and who is driven by a fierce need for revenge? Swiftly, Damien finds himself caught in a power struggle between the brujas, a whirlwind battle that threatens to sweep the whole village out to sea.
Resonant with the Diné creation story and the unshakeable weight of the Long Walk—the forced removal of the Navajo from their land— Swim Home to the Vanished explores the human capacity for grief and redemption, and the lasting effects it has on the soul.
Brendan Shay Basham (Diné) is a writer, artist, educator, and recovering chef, born in Alaska and raised in northern Arizona. He received his MFA from the Institute of American Indian Arts and his Bachelor's from the Evergreen State College. Swim Home to the Vanished is his first novel.
Basham's work has appeared in Puerto del Sol, Poetry Northwest, Santa Fe Literary Review, Red Ink, Yellow Medicine Review, among other publications. He is a recipient of Poetry Northwest’s inaugural James Welch Prize for Indigenous Writers, the Ucross Foundation’s first Native American Literary Award, and fellowships from the Truman Capote Trust, Tin House, and Writing By Writers.
He currently lives in Baltimore where he runs a make-believe café.
“To be haunted by a memory and to be haunted by the feeling that you have lost all memory are nearly the same thing; it is all lost. You are never getting the real thing back.”
Six months after losing his younger brother Kai to drowning, Damien, consumed with grief at losing the only family he had left, leaves his job as a cook in a restaurant on a journey with no destination in sight. His journey takes him across a grueling trek through the desert where he meets a Goatherd who directs him to a village, “a land for the grieving”, where he believes Damien will find what he is looking for. Damien lands up in the village, which is home to a struggling fishing community on the day of the funeral of one of its residents. Damien finds himself amid the deceased Carla’s family, her mother Ana-Maria, and Carla’s younger sisters Paola and Marta. Rumored to be “Bruja” whose fate is intertwined with that of the village and therefore influential, Ana Maria is an imposing presence. She is kind to Damien and employs him in her family’s shop, but rumor has it that she is the one responsible for Carla’s death and her youngest daughter Marta believes this to be true. Between Ana Maria and Marta’s manipulations, Damien finds himself unable to figure out the truth behind their intentions. Paola has a deep connection with nature and tries to maintain peace within the family. She also expresses concern for Damien’s well-being and her mother’s influence on him. On the personal front, Damien is also grappling with a mystical physical transformation that is symbolic of his relationship with the very waters that took his brother from him. We follow Damein as he navigates his grief and his dynamic with the family who has befriended him, as the village gears up for an impending storm that could possibly lead to the destruction of the entire village.
“Humans over the years have lost their ability to commune with the ocean and desert and mountains everything below and beneath, all the sacred directions stop from the overfished waters to the now empty mines, the polluted rivers now conduits for oil, the slashed and burned forests choking out what lungs we have left. It is only a matter of time before we are all evicted. Might be too late to stop the storm, but not too late to hide.”
Steeped in magical realism, metaphors and symbolism, Swim Home to the Vanished by Brendan Shay Basham is reminiscent of works by authors such as Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Juan Rulfo. The author taps into the history of the Diné, incorporating the story of the Navajo Long Walk into the narrative and Damien’s family history. Revolving around themes of loss and grief, revenge and jealousy, and climate change, this is an immersive but heavy read. The author’s writing is descriptive, and his use of vivid imagery transports you to Damien’s world. The narrative is a tad disjointed, but overall, I found this novel to be a compelling read.
“We long for nostalgia, crave its pain, for in that remembrance is a kind of cure, a beautiful handful of a gift, like a handful of dirt, joy running through our fingertips, and what better gift than a handful of dirt?”
Many thanks to Harper Books for the gifted copy of this novel. All opinions expressed in this review are my own.
Edit 6-8-2023: Yes, I did go straight back in and reread it... Yes, it did completely changed my feelings. Below is my review reflecting my feelings right now.
Actual Rating: 4.5/5 stars
"When you lose someone close, you travel to the place of the dead. You enter the river, you swim in it, it takes you out to the sea. The fish seem to know."
It’s no secret that the sub-genre of books about grief, explored through a magical-realism lens has produced some of my personal favourite reading experiences ever. For that reason alone, Swim Home to the Vanished was one of my most anticipated releases of the year, that I picked up immediately upon release. This story with strong roots in Native American lore (specifically creation mythology), proved one of the more challenging, but simultaneously fascinating reads of my year so far. A story that I deeply resonated with at times, was left completely puzzled by at others, and am still not sure if I fully grasped the depth of its significance by the end. Our story opens with Damien contemplating the right words to speak a eulogy for his brother. When Kai went into the river that faithful day, he didn’t so much die as vanish from Damiens life. With this loss heavy in his bones, Damien feels an outcast in his old life and decides to walk away from it all. After a long walk (note the significance) through the desert, he finds himself in a remote fishing village, hoping to escape his grief. He soon discovers his journey has only brought him deeper into the land of the grieving… As he’s taken in by a family of Pescadores, he soon discovers that each of the villages inhabitants carries their own grief, and is slowly being transformed by it. The more he learns about the loss this village has recently suffered, the more he is ensnared in a net of familial bonds and trauma, that threaten to drag him into the very depths that claimed his brother.
Basham is nothing if not ambitious with this multi-layered debut novel. Almost every small event in this book has a parallel in Native American mythology. From the Long Walk-like journey Damien embarks on, to the animal(spirits) the grieving characters take a liking to, to various water-connections throughout. This layering is both the novels greatest selling point, as at times its downfall. Whenever it hits, it really hits, but at other times the various element don’t fully come together and make the narrative very disjointed. It’s a challenging novel that requires some effort from the reader. In my case, that included having to look up some of the source-myths to understand the deeper connections and references made. It’s for that reason that I say that I might still not completely grasp the depth of this book, and might never as I’m not a part of the culture. That being said, Swim Home to the Vanished is so deeply intriguing and resonant on a human-level, that I was happy to dig deeper into the sources. That to me, is the sign of a fantastic novel with incredible cultural representation: the burden of informing myself was on me as the “outsider”, but I felt invited and welcome to do so, based off the shared and very human experience of grief.
From a technical point, apart from the sometimes disjointed structure, Basham’s debut is a feat as well. His writing is lyrical, poetic and resonant, but his characters interact and speak like believable humans. The novel has a strong sense of place, thanks to the environmental descriptions and vivid descriptions of the local food and smells (all of which have significance to the story). The use of magical realism is far from subtle, as each of the characters make a literal transformation towards animal characteristics, as a result of their grief. Yet in the context of the story and its mythological roots, the choice of each of these animals forms a perfect fit, and links the multiple layers of the story. For full disclosure, I feel the need to add that this review was based off me reading the book 2x back to back, under very specific circumstances. Recent events in my personal life dragged up a grief that has settled deep within my bones, and made it so I didn’t fully appreciate my first read. Going back in, it intensified my immersion and positive feelings towards it, and made it into one of the more memorable reading experiences of this year.
Okay so. I REALLY struggled with this one. It’s super short so I thought I could read it in a day or two. But. …. No.
Magical realism is always very hit or miss for me and, unfortunately, I think this was just a miss. It had some truly beautiful writing (especially about grief) but I had a really hard time getting into the story and connecting with the characters.
I went into this thinking it would be more like the indigenous horror I read and loved earlier this year but it was not. So I think I just had the wrong expectations?
Reading this felt like a fever dream (and not in a good way). I don’t think I can even tell you what happened for most of the book. Except. Fish. And murder. That’s all I got out of it???
So. Sadly this just was not for me. If you do enjoy magical realism, you might have a better time with this than I did. Unfortunately, that genre is not always for me and I should’ve just skipped this one.
But. Thank you to Harper Books for allowing me to read this in exchange for an honest review.
This is fascinating stuff, very much like poetry. Allegorical constructs vastly outnumber straightforward references. The story is equal parts: beautiful, disturbing, instructive, and redemptive. This is essentially about loss and grief, but told like an expansive and intricate fable.
Though Imaginative and creative, Swim Home to the Vanished can read quite dull at times. A lot of time is spent on description instead of character work. I found the sisters interesting initially but I grew tired of their storyline by the end and wished more time was spent on Damien’s grief which I thought were the best parts of the book towards the beginning. The book eventually gets too abstract for me personally. I enjoy magical realism but combined with the author’s style of writing and general vagueness of the plot, by the end, the story was just fuzzy and not really interesting.
I was taken in by this debut author! Painting magical realism, blending emotional effects of grief, struggles and redemption with charm and enchantment. Brendan really does remind me of Murakami and I can see him on a fantastical writing journey.
I really liked the way Basham writes about grief and nature, and some of the imagery really stuck with me. That being said, the story started to lose me when it became more abstract,, although I appreciate surreal storytelling, at times, I did feel disconnected from Damien’s journey.
I had the privilege of reading a galley of this book. Swim Home is poetry in the body of a novel. The words sing—the mastery and thoughtfulness that went into the formulation of every sentence is apparent. This story is the perfect metaphor for how trauma (personal and generational) can change our DNA...but in a way that emphasizes choice, acceptance, and hope. The magical realism and humor also help the reader digest what you otherwise think might feel heavy. Nature is essentially included as a character in and of itself as a reminder of what really matters. Highly recommend it for a unique read.
Loving these books where grief takes the form of animalistic transformation. See also: Monstrilio. This reads like a beautiful fever dream but the plot loses momentum half way through. Nevertheless, an interesting read.
Could have gone whackier with the story. We follow a guy who is slowly becoming a fish and in the beginning you like ooo this an interesting grief story before it takes like 20 years in a 200 page story to finally get to anything.
No creo que se promocione como tal, pero al tercer capítulo me acordé que no me gusta el realismo mágico, pero aún así ya me había interesado la historia y malamente le seguí. Lamentablemente no hay mucha certeza así que terminas con una sensación de que nunca entendiste nada. A veces cuando crees que te va a decir algo, se pone muy filosófico y te quedas gritando "¿pero qué pasó?". En general es una historia muy triste, no la recomiendo para quienes están pasando por algún tipo de duelo.
Swim Home to the Vanished is a beautiful and captivating story that boils down to a man coming to grips with the loss of his brother, and his journey as he processes his grief.
With constant twists to keep you on your toes and plenty of elaborate symbolism that keeps you questioning what’s real and what’s not, the author takes you on a journey that has you always questioning and doubting what’s best for our protagonist Damien.
Additionally, the author’s style results in breathtaking world building as he manages to make even the most mundane actions seem so vivid and real.
Simply put, I couldn’t put “Swim Home to the Vanished” down.
I personally feel like this would have been more successful as a collection of poems rather than a novel. There were some lines that were really quite beautiful…but, this began to feel like an acid trip. I couldn’t find a rhythmic flow between the chapters and DNF’d after page 40.
In one month I have somehow read TWO books about men who undergo long and painful transformations into aquatic animals. 2 is more than enough for me. Forever.
Surreal and grotesque and magical and unnerving. Lots of zoomorphism, which I love. Man grows gills in a grief response? Yes! Woman is the caiman queen and may actually be a reptile? Here for it. It was a confusing, disturbing ride and not an easy read, but I thought it was excellent.
After his brother dies, Damien is un-homed. His parents having died a while back, his brother was one of the only things tethering Damien to his hometown. Fleeing from his responsibilities, and feeling a draw toward a new seaside village, Damien enters into a quixotic quest that lands him in the arms of a town equally under the spell of a family of brujas as they are the sea and its ever vanishing fishable population. Hallucinatory and vital in all the ways of great literature about an individual searching for their bearings, Brendan Shay Basham has created an amazing novel. That this is his debut is almost unbelievable.
“If a loved one dies and in grief you become a fish, of course you will be drawn to water. You must learn to breathe differently.” ohhh the ache in this!! excellently crafted incredibly weird and full of metaphors that confused me :)) how fish *is* damien? can others truly see his gills? is he so blinded by the loss of his brother than he can only see through minnow-eyes? i don’t know!! but it sure was great to read about!!
More poetry than prose, but the lyrical way Basham writes perfectly captures the slippery feeling of loss and grief. Please don’t deny yourself the pleasure of reading this book, just be ready to swim through more allegory than straightforward references.
Go into this knowing you’ll need time to process and unpack it as if you are in an English lit class. It’s written as if it doesn’t know whether it wants to be a surrealist story or poetry, but you can’t deny its vivid and immersive. The story centers around all of the ways we process grief and the experience of those left behind when a loved one dies. The theme of feeling like a fish out of water is central to the imagery throughout the story. If you are looking for a straight forward easy to comprehend novel, this may not be for you. But if you have ever experienced loss or grief, this book will put words to those feelings and experiences in a beautiful way.
My one real critique is that it kind of hits you over the head with symbolism. There is nothing subtle. You know that everything means something else and will likely want to get Google search ready.
I wanted to love this book so much more than I did. I gave it three stars instead of two because the last chapter of the book was beautiful and lyrical. I think the story would have been better as a long poem with the last chapter making up the bulk of it. Loved the premise but so much of the plot fell flat for me.