SIPSWORTH

It takes a village…to care for an abandoned mouse with breathing issues, and to lure an elderly woman out of isolation.

After six decades spent in Australia, 83-year-old Helen Cartwright, a widowed doctor, has returned to England, to the town of her childhood. “Life for her was finished,” the days now a routine of cups of tea, slices of toast, hot baths, and daytime TV, interspersed with memories of her dead husband and son. “Each day was an impersonation of the one before with only a slight shuffle—as though even for death there is a queue.” Things shift, however, when she chooses to rescue a discarded aquarium from her neighbor’s trash. Hidden inside is a mouse, which she first tries to trap and then decides she will take to an animal shelter. Her feelings of responsibility and care for the rodent swell, and providing food and protection from a cat is just the beginning. Soon the mouse, named Sipsworth for its drinking style, is living in her sink and watching television with her from the safety of a slipper. Its needs force Helen to interact more with the outside world—visiting the library for mouse-care books, the hardware store for a new aquarium, and then the hospital for medical advice when Sipsworth suddenly falls ill. Now the novel switches from enigmatic curiosity to something more parable-esque, as Dr. Jamal from the hospital, Cecil from the hardware store, the town librarian, and others offer time, advice, and practical support to a woman who suddenly reveals a wholly unexpected hinterland. The book’s closing phase comes in a rush, as what began as the intriguing, sometimes philosophical story of an insular woman with “doors she keeps locked” dashes toward predictability and fairy tale.

A sympathetic but uneven oddity.