The Swimmers – Julie Otsuka
100-Word (or Less) Synopsis: For a group of swimmers, the local university’s pool isn’t only a place for exercise, it’s a place for community, routine and memory.
Expectation: A dramedy about wanting to hold on to your younger days in the twilight years.
Reality: A unique style of storytelling somewhat masks the affecting exploration of mortality, memory and caring for aging parents.
Recommended For: Fans of off-kilter stories that pack a punch.
Why I Read It: It was blowing up #Bookstagram upon its release.
My Take:
It’s difficult to describe Julie Otsuka’s slim novel accurately:
It’s a story about swimming, and the community surrounding that activity.
It’s a story about frontotemporal dementia.
It’s a story about caring for aging parents.
It’s a story about reconciling your past when you have no future.
It’s an exploration of for-profit assisted living facilities.
It’s a treatise on how Americans deal with the elderly compared to other cultures.
All that in 192-pages! Honestly, it wasn’t what I expected it to be, but it was one of the more unique stories I’ve read this year and likely one that could make my “honorable mention” list given its strong start and finish. The middle…well, it won’t be to everyone’s taste.
A lot of it went over my head, but I understood the broad strokes (get it!) of what Otsuka was trying to do, and I appreciated how she writes in a way that allows you to fill in the gaps with your own perspectives.
Told in five chapters, each one presents a different view of the same situation — Alice’s slow mental decline. There was a lot in the story that personally spoke to me and that could be why I enjoyed it more than most (according to Goodreads).
As a former competitive swimmer and a lifeguard (my favorite job), I was immediately hooked by chapter one, “The Underground Pool,” which is probably the most perfect description of life in and around a pool I’ve ever read. People who haven’t spent a significant amount of time at the same pool, day in and day out, for years won’t get it, but trust me, it’s pitch perfect.
“The Crack” came off as a bit too heavy-handed of a metaphor for Alice’s mental decline, but these two chapters, in my opinion, were the two that gave us a glimpse into how Alice was coping with her situation directly. Was it happening as presented, or was it Alice’s misfiring brain trying to process in a way she could understand? I think it was a little bit of both.
With “Diem Perdidi,” — meaning “I have lost a day” - and “Euroneuro” — a reference to a medical conference — we hear from Alice’s unnamed daughter, a writer, about her own perceptions and guilt.
The dustjacket description leads you to believe there is a hefty historical fiction component to “The Swimmers,” but there are only passing references to Japanese internment during World War II as her daughter recounts what she does and doesn’t remember.
The closing chapter, “Euroneuro,” presents a hauntingly realistic and heartbreaking view of watching a loved one die while alive. This is something my family has experienced, and I applaud Otsuka for spotlighting the little moments that stick with you long after the person has physically died, such as trying to recount the last time they spoke, wrote or recognized you.
“Belavista,” while the penultimate chapter, feels more like a post-script as it is somewhat of an outlier in the broader story. Outlining the rules and experiences of the residents of the assisted living facility where Alice lives the rest of her life, it presents a juxtaposition to the community Alice had at the pool, while also delivering a saccharine stab to the entire industry and the dehumanization of the elderly. It is difficult to read — especially when you consider it may be your fate one day — but it’s a well-done quasi-satire.
“The Swimmers” doesn’t fit neatly into a genre box. It’s not a straightforward story, and you won’t get all the answers. If you want that in your reading — don’t pick this up. But, if you’re someone who has experienced the meditative power of lap swimming or has experienced loving a person with dementia, parts of this will feel like a hug.
Traci Kato-Kiriyama narrated the audiobook and it was totally fine and completely unremarkable. Otsuka’s writing is accessible and understated, so given the short length of the novel, I’d recommend this as a physical read.
Rating (story): 4/5 stars
Rating (narration): 3/5 stars
Formats: Audiobook (library loan)
Dates read: May 16, 2022
Multi-tasking: Not recommended. To really appreciate Otsuka does, you need to concentrate. I listened on a road trip, and it was the perfect format.
