THIRST FOR SALT

Australian writer Lucas’ debut charts the tides of love, memory, and longing as it explores not why love ends but how it ebbs and flows.

The novel opens with the narrator’s discovery, found through online sleuthing, that a former lover is now a father. She casts back to when she was 24, on vacation with her mother at Sailors Beach. Swimming alone, she encounters Jude, a former actor almost 20 years her senior who lives nearby and restores furniture. Their attraction is immediate, like an undertow. The narrator, an aspiring writer, whom Jude calls “Sharkbait,” then “love,” quickly trades her dreams of travel for the desire that Jude awakens in her, making “everything suddenly unbearably erotic, alive.” Their intimacy is compelling in its urgency while also leaving room for silence as they navigate the tension between Jude’s perspective that love is “a gift” and the narrator’s understanding of it as a “need.” When they find a dog on the beach, it becomes a stand-in for their bond, as a child would; and though the narrator dreams of a baby, she finds herself counseling Maeve, a potential rival, about a pregnancy. Throughout, the narrator reflects on her relationship with her mother; at times, these passages eclipse the love story: “As a child, I’d imagined her as something diffuse, like vapor or air. Nec­essary, and all around me, but somehow elusive, ungraspable.” Water imagery is everywhere, threatening to make the novel’s metaphors predictable: Orgasms are waves, as is grief, and the ocean and the shore are lovers. While Lucas’ meditation on relationships is masterful, the ending falls flat—in a book where love leaves an indelible mark, it’s hard to believe that the final conflict sets its characters adrift.

Though its metaphors are familiar, Lucas’ portrayal of love and desire exerts a wonderful pull.