We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves

Recently, I've read a number of novels that have really left me feeling empty. Some were too simple, others had a lot of issues fixed swiftly and neatly, while a third category had textual errors such misidentified bugs, incorrect tribes, and inaccurate descriptions. As I often do, I slogged through them all in the hopes of finding some intellectual interest and stimulation, but ultimately I was deeply let down. Then I chose Karen Joy Fowler's We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves. Fowler takes all the lovely components of a book and incorporates them into a compelling story with interesting people and situations. My mind was completely engaged from the first page to the last.

Rosemary is the primary character in the novel, and her narrative is told in the first person. Despite switching between scenes, characters, and decades, the author is able to tie everything together honestly by admitting that she left off this or that or that she will describe that information in more detail later. Sometimes a book like this leaves the reader perplexed, but Fowler provides just enough details and clues so the reader is captivated and eagerly anticipating the next revelation and nugget of knowledge. She explains that she starts in the middle and then flashes to the beginning and then back, with snatches of the "end" thrown in as well, so the reader can tell when she is switching scenes.

This book isn't only about a girl, her dysfunctional parents, her missing siblings, and unusual friends; it's also a lesson in patience, understanding, and how our recollections of previous events may be quite different from those of others and from the real event itself. Based on our interpretations of events, we carry anxiety and guilt, a feeling of exaltation, and everything in between. The concern and guilt portions really resonated with me since these are emotions I often experience, always questioning if I have said or done the "correct" thing or whether I have injured anybody accidentally.

One of Fowler's insights that I really enjoy and can relate to is that we often go back on our failures even when we have accomplished something fantastic. For instance, even if I received 30 nice messages from past students, the one letter that completely trashes me weighs heavily on my spirit. Instead of acknowledging the fact that I did my best but was unable to fully reach that specific kid in certain areas, I let all the "woulda, coulda, shoulda" scenarios creep in.

The second point is that there are always new individuals entering our lives, leaving, or being taken away. This difference between individuals arriving and departing and being taken away is quite important. Our loved ones leave us via death, acrimonious divorces, and heated arguments. There is no turning back, no chance to reorganize, reset, gather, or apologize in these last three. When my niece's fiancé passed away unexpectedly, his kid was taken from us and given to his mother, who didn't love him but enjoyed the idea of the money she would get for taking care of him. No legal action may be taken to alter this agreement. She is his mother biologically. He's gone, but maybe we can try to get in touch with him when he's 18? With no opportunity to say or do what we would have liked to, death is much more irreversible. Only in dreams are there opportunities for touch and love affirmation.

This book will be familiar to anyone who have read about medical research with animals, particularly chimpanzees. The material offered prompts thought on the benefits of using animals in research to find treatments and therapies while also having the reader consider the price it exacts on the health and lives of helpless animals, particularly those who love and interact with their caretakers amicably. A book club or family talk might benefit greatly from discussing We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves. Fowler has created something very amazing.