In GULL SOUP, we meet Amanda “Mandy” Sweet, who is spending some time finding herself and working on her writing, after saving up a little money and quitting her job. She is comfortably settled in a 1929-cabin in Door County, Wisconsin (“the thumb of land sticking out of Wisconsin into Lake Michigan”). The novel is set in third person, and with Mandy recently bereaved of her mother, the book quickly shifts into themes of loss and solitude. Before long, however, twelve dead gulls appear in the lake outside the cabin, and curious Mandy submerges herself in the cold water to rake them in, turning what initially felt like a drama into a mystery. As Mandy works to discover the significance behind the fact that twelve gulls died—which the author grows into a reflection on the esoteric powers of the number twelve—we witness a budding romance with area-local Jackson, who is always accompanied by Doc, his fox-red Labrador; communication with Mandy’s deceased mother, who provides insights on the afterlife, and assists Mandy in her journey of self-discovery; and we endure too the strange case of Craig, a troubled and alcoholic man, who is keeping watch over an orchard nearby.
In this tale, where dead animals pile up, strange men are posted in the darkness and peering into windows, and the protagonist talks to a dead seagull kept in the freezer (granted, for purposes of uncovering the cause for its untimely demise), the reader can look forward to, most of all, a few meaningful insights on the human condition, the female condition, and the meaning of life. Austin is at her best when she is metaphysical and spare, with passages such as, “Judgement of others seems to be a human failing. It’s the self-righteous judgement perpetuated by man from the beginning of time, and encouraged by those who lead others.” We encounter her multiple times engaged in philosophical reflection, but the novel would have hugely benefited from some serious cuts to let those passages shine more brightly. One of the most interesting characters is the “dimpled” Buck Reynolds, from the DNR, whose overbearing energy and spurts of anger prompt a reflection on power dynamics in new or budding romances, and who remains complex until the end.
GULL SOUP would have benefited from a first-person point of view. Indeed, the author painstakingly describes every thought of the main character, in what makes for a long-winded process of revelation. One senses that the novel is constantly seeking to be more direct, more intimate, to reveal the deeper emotions of its protagonist, but it never moves in close enough, restricted as it is by third person, and a distance persists between the reader and the characters, thus making it hard for the reader to suspend disbelief. The character development, however, is stronger than the plot, which sometimes moves forward too clumsily, with important elements such as foreshadowing, that suffer, here and there, from too heavy a hand, and some predictability.
The novel does, however, exhibit a striking consistency in pacing. The latter is slow, but it remains even throughout, and provides the book with great uniformity. Noteworthy too is the inclusion of scientific and environmental details, which invite the reader to learn something. If Austin can allow herself to indulge both her inclinations toward the inclusion of science and metaphysical reflection in a book without getting distracted with easy plot points, her next novel could grow into quite a handsome volume.
With GULL SOUP, Lynne Carol Austin has written a mystery-romance with mystical touches, featuring Mandy, a female protagonist, who is grappling with essential life questions and grief recovery.
~Emily Martin for IndieReader