Sipsworth by Simon Van Booy

I read this because it was a Parnassus book recommendation, and while I have not read all of them--afterall, there are a lot of Fridays in the year, it is hard to keep up, and while I read quite a lot, it seems that I have almost never read the thing that they are recommending. The added thing to love about this is that it has some shades of The Correspondent about it. They center on elderly women who have lost a spouse and a child. The women are unexpected and that unfurls across the novel. Helen Cartwright returns to the village of her childhood to grief the loss of her family and her youth. She leads a monotonous life by design: it keeps her from dwelling on the past and she is waiting for the end. Then, she encounters an unwanted visitor in her home—a mouse, a mouse that she inadvertently brought home and, after some unsuccessful and half-hearted attempts to get rid of the creature, she grows attached to him. Naming him Sipsworth, she thinks she has finally found someone to listen to her. She has something to focus on, and after she establishes that there is no one but her who will care for him, she has something to live for. Much of Helen’s backstory comes out via her stories to Sipsworth, revealing snippets of a life well lived. And the gaps in Helen’s tales reveal as much about her character as the parts that she chooses to state. The prose is simple yet lovely; the story sneaks up on you and gains your affections, as does the folly of befriending a field mouse. It’s a tale of aging, grief, and the mundane details that make up a person’s existence after great losses. These pieces reveal something profound about the human need for connection and how to savor our connections. It is a generous, vibrant, and quiet novel.