Good as she ever was

On Claire Lombardo's sophomore novel, Same As It Ever Was

Having adored Claire Lombardo’s first book, The Most Fun We Ever Had, I pre-ordered Same As It Ever Was the minute it was available. As the universe would have it, I was out of town the rainy day the book arrived at my house and I had to ask my neighbor to bring inside my “very important item.” (Later, a third of the way through the book, I’d come across a line about the universe being consistently bad at time management and it would make me smile).

Claire’s debut novel was an instant New York Times bestseller and, in April, was a Reece’s Book Club Pick. Given the wild success of her first book, Claire had her own big shoes to fill.

I am happy to say she delivered.

Woman with a green shawl | Cyprien Eugene Boulet

I was very confident Same As It Ever Was would be great. I knew I’d read it with a pen in hand and underline something on every other page. What I did not know was how deeply in love I would fall with the book, the writing, and the characters.

Claire’s character work is something canonical. If you’re a writer and want to read good examples of character development, read Claire. If you like to read books with fully realized human characters (and dogs; I cannot forget to include the little lady, Suzanne), read Claire.

I heard her say in a podcast that Same As It Ever Was is essentially the story of a woman’s life: Julia’s. And while it definitely is, it’s also a story about love and marriage and motherhood and intergenerational friendship. It follows Julia through her apathetic postpartum days, back to her traumatic childhood, forward to her children leaving for college, and the major milestones in between, including infidelity, mistrust, self-doubt, and, in words from the book, “the embroidery of daily existence.”

Claire’s ability to observe, then proceed to translate those observations onto the page, is truly astounding. The simplest but perhaps most indicative example of how deep her observation runs is this description of Julia’s husband, Mark, who is standing with his “hands clasped behind his back and bent slightly at the waist as he reads the memorial placards settled at the bases of the trees.”

Can’t you see that? I can see it perfectly.

Like her first book, Same As It Ever Was is hefty, coming it at just under 500 pages. In the story of Julia’s life, there is hardly a stone left unturned. Some might consider it too long or overwritten, but I don’t. I could have read another hundred pages; two hundred, even. Her word choice is spectacularly precise, and removing even one brilliantly-chosen adjective or adverb from a sentence would alter its meaning.

And her turns of phrase! The number of times I read a sentence, thought about it for a beat, then reread it because it was so unusual and beautiful. (So many times.) An example from the first chapter: “… the woman’s face registers in her brain belatedly, clad in the convincing disguise — that invisible blanket — of age.”

The invisible blanket of age. How gorgeous is that? It is one of her specialties, I would say; using metaphors in a surprising way. Another line: “So much bloomed from that time, toxic and otherwise, tiny green shoots sprouting from ravaged land.”

I wouldn’t think toxicity could bloom, but it works. Not only does it work, but it works better than if she would have used something less paradoxical, a sentence more standard among literature. But she is not standard, and that’s why we love her.

She also writes of a “moony, faraway smile” and “shellacked pleasantness” and “a ponytail that looked like it would whisper about you when you left the room.” The creativity that must go into that conceptualizing this imagery is truly impressive. Is there another author who plays with words quite like she does? Maybe, but I can’t think of one.

And amidst the enchanting sleights of hand, the engrossing plot and storytelling, the book is funny. It’s not slapstick humor (thank god) but more like a dry sarcasm; almost akin to the Dave Eggers humor I love so much. Take this sentence about Julia’s grown daughter, Alma, and the dog, Suzanne: “Alma and Suzanne give her twin parting glances in the doorway, vaguely placatory expressions on their faces, like she’s a waitress and they’re all set on water, thanks.”

It’s good, subtle humor that is so rewarding to dig up.

I could continue to enumerate on my love for this book, and I could tell you that I’ve thought about the closing chapter no fewer than a dozen times per day in the week since finishing it, and I could explain how the characters feel like real people in my real life, but instead I will urge you to read the book, slip inside Julia’s world for some time, and luxuriate in the safety that comes with being in such a competent author’s hands.

What I’m reading: The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles by Steven Pressfield.

What are you reading? Have you read either of Claire Lombardo’s books? What did you think?

See you next week!

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