THE BEST YOU

A meek, passionless man is transformed by an astonishing encounter.

Phillip Preston is an unremarkable 36-year-old man—mild-mannered, quietly earnest, and even a bit “goofy.” He was bullied in high school, and when his wife, Martha, leaves him for his best friend, he registers no protest. He cries in his sleep, a nocturnal expression of his lonely acquiescence to mediocrity. One day, his ordinary life intersects with the extraordinary—while out on his boat, he spots a naked, seemingly dead woman in the water. He pulls her out and sees that, instead of legs, her body ends in a “large flat fin” covered in “large green iridescent scales the size silver dollars.” Even more strange, she grows legs once in the boat. She calls herself Sophia, declares him her “boss,” and moves in with him, the prelude to a bizarre but often hilarious and touching relationship. While stunningly beautiful, she clearly isn’t a human being who understands normal human behavior—she loathes wearing clothes, eats sugar by the handful, and speaks in a halting manner with an “odd accent”: “Can I eat food? My stomach begs for food. It is a begging stomach.” Yocum artfully interlaces the surreal with the real, sensitively contrasting Phillip’s sad previous existence with his glorious new life with Sophia. However, the story’s novelty wears off finally and becomes quotidian itself—this brief tale, reminiscent of the 1984 movie Splash, would likely have worked better as a short story. Also, the core of the novel—quiet desperation metamorphosed into self-realization—feels familiar. The comedic elements are deliciously rendered and compensate for some of the shortcomings, but they’re ultimately not enough to keep the reader’s full attention to the end.

A comical fantasy that runs out of steam far too early.