I was head over heels about the characters and story of Norman’s MY DARLING DETECTIVE, so I was drawn to this as well. A very different story, of course, and quite noir-ish. In this, he tackles several themes—my favorite being how memories identify us, color us in, or leave us more blank than we want to be. Memories and missing. But Norman also grapples with grief, fertility, marriage, loss, and the whole poetry of life (and there is poetry!).
During the opening pages, we learn that Simon, an underrated writer who died a few years ago, still inhabits the farmhouse in East Calais, Vermont (where Howard Norman lives), where he lived with his wife, Lorca, an artist who creates Emily Dickinson-inspired paintings. Still mourning Simon’s loss and some unresolved feelings, she sells to a couple, Muriel and Zachary. But Simon, the “stenographer” of death, still inhabits the house, mainly the library, and often inadvertently sets off the security alarm, signaling "Motion in Library."
The title refers to an alleged clause in Vermont concerning the sale of homes. If the house is haunted, you must disclose that to potential buyers. There’s a missing child, and one of the buyers is Zachary, a detective newly hired at the very small but prestigious Green Mountain Detective Agency. He becomes obsessed with the case and finding Corrine, the little girl, a moth-loving eleven-year-old with autism. His wife, Muriel, translates Japanese poetry, particularly of a (fictional) poet that uses parenthesis to declare his most intimate and romantic sentiments. Muriel embraces and mimics these parenthetical poems to flirt with Zachary, but also because it is the subject of her book. But, they, too, have some unresolved issues. The missing and missing pieces flourish in meaning.
In fact, most of the novel has a kind of flirty voice to it--even when Simon is trying to be mordant, there is a light but poignant touch to his portrait as the pining dead. Memories and the missing. In totality, the primary thrust of the novel is Simon’s ghostly narration of memories and how his marriage to Lorca reflects and refracts Muriel and Zach’s marriage, and those unresolved pieces so relatable to readers and writers alike. I’m just sharing a brief overview of the theme that touched me the most. Simon says:
“…I was envious of people with repressed memories. Well, now, as memories arrive one after the next, I feel I am becoming almost entirely composed of them…I’, standing in a field out back and my own private drive-in movie screen is there and I have no choice as to which moments in the past are projected onto it.” And, oh, what fuss this can cause to someone stuck between two worlds!