SWAN SONG

A Vermont doctor takes a position aboard a cruise ship after the death of her partner.

When we meet Jessie, she is grieving the recent deaths of her mother, her father, and her lover, and she is throwing her vibrator in the trash. Well, “you could hardly donate it to Goodwill for a tax deduction, or pass it down as an heirloom,” and who knows when it will be her turn to die? She doesn’t want her son finding it sitting alongside her VHS tape of Lesbian Hospital. Later that day, a woman’s battered corpse floats up to Jessie's lakeside house. Enough is enough. With weak connections to her children and zero interest in “spending her twilight years baby-sitting” their offspring, she impulsively accepts a job as a cruise physician, offered by a doctor friend with whom she had an affair long ago. Despite her dour mood, he and others aboard the ship are interested in her—whether or not she will stop obsessively reading her dead lover’s journal and accept these advances, or at least cheer up a little, is the main plot of the book. The most interesting character is a truly awful bitch, the former Miss Florida Power and Light, around whom sex and death promisingly swirl. But when the interesting questions raised in her plotline are left unanswered by the end of the cruise, the reader may be as dissatisfied as everyone else. After several mishaps, “the mood aboard the Amphitrite was glum.…Those who were not complete sociopaths had realized that they had been born into Western democracies through no merit of their own. They had paid tens of thousands of dollars to ride this luxury liner, eating and drinking themselves into prediabetic stupors, while others rode capsizing ghost ships, drinking their own urine.”

Barring Titanic stories, this could be one of the most depressing books about a cruise ever written.