Glaciers by Alexis Smith

She walks down the hall to the bathroom. After checking first for feet under the stall doors, she goes to the mirror. She washes her hands, dirty from the books shes handled all morning. She watches the water flow over her hands and down the drain, then quickly glancing up at her reflection in the mirror. It’s a game she plays with herself. She thinks if she just sees herself from the right angle, when she is not thinking about it, the mirror will show her something that she has never seen before, something other people see. (pg. 65)

When my father-in-law died, one of the things that came home with us was the small wooden box that always sat on the top of his dresser. I never looked into that box until we were back in Ohio for the funeral and when I first opened it I wasn’t sure of what I would find. Inside are a mesh-mash of things, mostly from Bill’s youth – academic medals, boy scout memorabilia, a very old pocket watch, his wedding ring, a handkerchief – almost trinkets, meaningless to many people, but important to him. That is why I brought the box home and put it in the bookshelves in our bedroom. I look at it and see him.

In my mother’s coat closet lives a coat that is ages old. It is a well worn, well used great coat that belonged to her Uncle Frank, the uncle that raised her. I don’t remember my great-uncle as he passed away shortly after I was born but he has always been a very real figure to me through my mother’s stories. Old things, used things have stories. They belonged to people with lives, thoughts, dreams. They had problems and worries, loves, and hates. Sometimes, with things that pass from family member to family member, you know the stories. Other times, with things found in shops, you have to guess at the stories.

This is the premise of Alexis Smith’s debut novel, Glaciers. Isabel collects old things, from vintage clothes to postcards. Her life is filled with other people’s ephemera and flotsam.  She seeks out these things, cherishes them, and looks at them in her apartment, the old dishcloths and kitchen bowls, and wonders about the stories behind the things that were “all new once”.

This short novel takes place in a single say of Isabel’s life as she goes about her day as a librarian who repairs books for the Portland Library. She has a crush on Spoke, the bicycling tech guy at work, and is attending a party with friends that night. Throughout the day, she reflects on her childhood in Alaska, her parents divorce, and the story behind a postcard she has purchased. This is not a novel for those readers who like a plot that moves – this is a novel that focuses on description, a novel that gives the reader glimpses of Isabel, never quite meeting her full on. Like Isabel concocting stories from a brief message on a postcard, the reader is required to fill in the gaps the author leaves in the story.  I imagine that this will leave some readers unsatisfied, but it was a technique that I loved.

Alexis  Smith excels at lyrical descriptions that highlight the simplicity of a moment: “She sits up, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, and the cat jumps down, underfoot all the way to the kitchen. The early morning sunlight warms a patch of linoleum and she lets her feet bathe in it while the kettle heats on the stove.” (pg. 22) She also excels at what we call in my family as “in your head time”. Isabel spends a lot of her time inside her head. This time is not just daydreaming, but a way for Isabel to process what happens to her and why.

She breathes it in and lets herself think of Spoke. She imagines walking with him, like this, through the city. Telling him how the cold air and leaves and gasoline smell like the first day of school to her.

Its a strange product of infatuation, she thinks, to want to tell someone about mundane things. The awareness of another person suddenly sharpens your senses, so the little little things come into focus and the world seems more beautiful and complicated. (pg. 72)

This slim novel is about old things, and about how everything eventually changes – even the glaciers of Isabel’s native Alaska. But it is also a novel about how our stories let us be seen, how they are used to explain us to ourselves and to others. Sometimes we want to try on another person’s story and sometimes we just want to be more comfortable with our own.

This novel isn’t for everyone but if you are looking for a short, quiet read with beautiful language – take the time to search for Glaciers. And if you start, stick with it to the end. The ending was my favorite part – it brought the novel into perspective for me – I caught a glimpse in the mirror and it was good.