One morning Teresa wakes up speaking with a French accent, and her son Paddy – a speech therapist – can’t explain it any better than the doctors can.
It’s weird and a little worrying, but what Damien Wilkins does with it is quieter than you might expect. The accent becomes less a mystery to be solved than a spur for Paddy to learn more about Teresa’s singularity, before she became a wife and mother. She also becomes more interesting as the book goes on in real time, as the real person beneath the role of ageing mother becomes more apparent.
That’s the heart of the novel, and it’s what stayed with me: the experience of discovering a parent as a whole person, with a history that preceded you. Paddy spends real time with Teresa and still feels he doesn’t know the full extent of her. He learns more about Teresa’s spirit when Teresa’s cousin turns up and shares an adventure the two of them had as young girls. Anyone in their fifties will recognise this precious, baffling experience of finally seeing a fuller story of your parents’ lives – as more than just your parents – even while knowing you don’t have too much more time with them.
I must admit this novel didn’t quite grip me. It’s a long, quiet New Zealand novel which lingers over daily life. It comes most alive in the sibling differences – Paddy finds his sister Stephanie’s over-reliance on their mother cloying, there’s a push-pull with the never-happy, far-away Marjorie.
What kept me reading is Paddy himself. He’s a decent bloke and I enjoyed his company and being able to picture the Wellington setting.
If you’re new to Damien Wilkins’ novels, I’d start with Delirious – it’s the tighter story with more at stake, more discomfort and more comedy. Somebody Loves Us All is the gentler, looser companion piece for when you already know you like him.
