The Swimmers

I finished this last night and I can't stop thinking about it. It's an odd duck, in some ways--the first third is lyrical and lovely and feels (dare I say) like moving through warm water. The rest of the book is more like going from the hot pool to the cold pool. Whew. Otsuka continues to delight and amaze me.

While this short book, roughly divided into 3 narratives, felt a bit disjointed at times (the abrupt transition / subtlety of connection was especially evident to me between parts 1 & 2), I still profoundly enjoyed each part individually. The writing was touching and distinct in each story. As someone who is a creature of habit and enjoys partaking in rituals that ground me, I could relate to Part 1 well (even though it got silly towards the end). Part 2 made me feel sad for the state of our profit-oriented world that seems to have lost a part of humanity. Part 3 really moved me, and I have a soft spot for immigrant narratives. All in all, I would love to read more of Otsuka's work.

This book is beautifully written. Even so, the first half of the book had me wondering if I had picked up the correct book to listen to. I'm happy to say it all connects in the end. The second half of the book is where I found the rhythm and heart of the book. There is a lot to learn about how to interact with a person going through dementia. 

This book of written in second person. That bugged me a bit at first, but I got over that as the story progresses to where I think the second person view is more powerful. 

I think this book is a good introduction to living with a person with dementia. That being said, all people are different. This is one experience, not how they will all go. Still, the author shows how family can support their loved ones in this and how it's okay to have different feelings and perspectives on this reality than others in the family. 

The underground swimming pool is a haven for many until a crack appears in the bottom and it is closed. One of the swimmers is Alice who is slowly losing her memory, and, without her time in the pool, the process accelerates and her mind is lost to the world.

A beautifully written book, some sort of a novel mix of poetry and list-making, that nevertheless paints a story, too.

The Swimmers is a unique novel written in a style specific to Otsuka. Those drawn to the book by its description might be disappointed to find it changes significantly in content almost halfway through, but an open-minded reader who loves strong metaphor and emotional writing will likely enjoy it.

The first two sections of the novel focus on a community of people who find solace in regularly attending a university pool. On the surface it's an interesting story that encourages a lot of introspection. Many of the swimmers use their time at the pool to forget about the complications of their “real lives,” and live according to different rules inside the pool than out.

My personal interpretation is that this part of the book is all an extended metaphor–the pool representing the mind and the crack signifying the dementia that damages it. People with dementia and other memory disorders find comfort in routine and can become distressed when these routines are disturbed. When Alice is able to follow her preferred routine and the set rules within the pool, she is happy–and then the crack starts to disrupt this. Some attendees stay home, some are distressed by the crack, and some ignore it. Eventually the crack ruins the pool entirely, causing it to close, and beginning the next section of the book: Alice transitioning into an extended care facility.

The pool story is very enjoyable to read, but features a few sections that add to its eerie feeling. These eerie sections lead me to believe this is not meant to be taken literally (although many members of my book club were certain these pool sections were meant to be taken at face value). I found the following two excerpts to strongly hint towards the more abstract nature of the pool:

“Others have heard that the crack opens up onto a second and deeper world that lies just beneath the surface of ours. An alternate and perhaps truer world with its underground pool filled with faster, more attractive people in less-stretched-out suits who nail their flip turns every time... and a vast and vapid emptiness so great that to contemplate it for even more than a few moments would cause your mind to implode. It's like we've been swimming over a void.“

&

“Often, the lifeguard is late. Timely or tardy, young or old, male or female, the lifeguard never lasts for long. Last month, the lifeguard was an out-of-work IT guy from the next town over. The month before that, the local football coach's son. Land people, we say.

The Swimmers

living