How do we cope with the loss of a life never lived? In her third novel, Phantom Days, Angela O'Keeffe employs an unconventional narrator to weave a beautifully layered story about human creativity, connection, and longing, much like her previous works Night Blue and The Sitter.
A Story of Unfulfilled Longing
At the heart of the novel is Isabel, a woman in her mid-30s who is child-free, single, and unambitious. She has worked the same arts job for a decade, has a few close friends, and shares a loving but complex relationship with her mother, Maggie, who is recovering from chemotherapy. Although her mother believes she is going nowhere, Isabel is outwardly content. Yet something is missing. She asks herself, 'If I were to create a thing outside of myself, what would it be?'
This void prompts Isabel to fly from Sydney to London with her new boyfriend, Lewis, a man she barely knows but feels a strange pull toward. In London, they have sex, stroll along the river, and dine at restaurants, yet they struggle to bond. They eat in silence or bicker, avoid eye contact as if craving solitude, and fail to see each other as whole people.
The Unconventional Narrator: Book
Following the tradition of 'it-narratives'—stories that follow the fortunes of an inanimate object—Phantom Days unfolds partly through the eyes of 'Book,' a seemingly sentient object that Isabel purchased from its author at a book signing before her trip. Book has its own voice, origin story, and cosmology: 'In the beginning,' it says, 'the sky was yellow and did not change for years on end.' As Book is handed from its author to Isabel, it feels a 'bright and all-consuming' connection; Isabel brings colour, life, and meaning. What significance does this relationship between reader and Book hold? And how can that connection be understood?
In some ways, this is a story about love—not just human love, but also a love letter to books and to readers. As Isabel and Book take turns narrating Isabel's story to one another, their relationship becomes deep and intimate. They speak tenderly, conspiratorially. 'Even then I felt an affinity with you; we were fellow travellers …' Isabel says. But as they travel together, something sinister begins to unfold.
Lewis and the Unseen Observer
Lewis, with neat hair and ears gleaming, smelling of 'washing detergent and the sun,' is in turns golden, childish, innocent, and menacing. Isabel studies him 'for a clue as to the strange way' she feels. Is there something wrong with him? Or is the problem with her? The two are constantly watched by Book. But is Book a friend, a protector, or something else? 'I knew that I was capable of self-deception, of editing a narrative to suit my own ends,' Isabel says. But who are she and Lewis when they believe no one else is watching?
As we learn more about Lewis and Isabel, we see the reverberations of childhood and how connections shape people. Each brings a world of assumptions, beliefs, experiences, and attachments. 'No life is entirely its own; each is layered onto other lives,' O'Keeffe writes. The intricate layering of relationships throughout Phantom Days demonstrates a deep and practical understanding of this statement.
Expanding Perspectives
When Isabel leaves Book behind in a taxi, Book's world and understanding of itself and human life begin to expand. It becomes clear that the ways in which stories are told are also part of complex networks of relationality. The act of narration—and of observing—becomes a medium through which lives are connected. Relationships are, in part, built upon stories. 'We never know the sum of ourselves, not when we are born, and not when we die,' Isabel thinks. But maybe Book does.
A Few Strained Details
At times, Phantom Days lacks subtlety. Some practical elements remain unexplained. How, exactly, does Book see, hear, and smell as a human does, despite being 'made without eyes'? Hints at a bigger secret come across as melodramatic, while other aspects of Isabel and Lewis's behaviour seem understated. They appear to deal with bizarre or dangerous events with calm underreaction. These details could strain for some readers, but O'Keeffe's characterisation is charming enough to warrant suspension of disbelief.
Richly Physical and Lyrical
Phantom Days is intensely physical and rich with detail: colours, sounds, processes, movements. Everything is noted, mapped out, and understood in connection to the wider world, described in O'Keeffe's lovely lyrical sentences. This specificity creates a strange and marvellous realm where inanimate objects become sentient and bodies manifest miracles.
Though told through the 'eyes' of a book, Phantom Days is a wonderfully human story about the act of creation. Angela O'Keeffe's novel is out now in Australia ($29.99, UQP).
