My Real Children, by Jo Walton

My Real ChildrenThis was kind of a sneak-attack book for me — I had heard good things about Jo Walton when her book Among Others came out but never got around to reading it, and then suddenly this book was out and I was like, sure, maybe I’ll read that one, and then I had a gap between books I needed to read for one book club or another and this book sitting on my desk and it was obviously fate.

Which is an appropriate sentiment for this book, actually. The story starts off with a woman named Patricia stuck going senile in some old-folks home in England with only her family’s visits to break the monotony of the building. Except that it’s not just one family that visits her, but two. When one set of children visits her, she can’t imagine how she ever thought there were others, but in between visits she remembers both sets, and her respective lives with them, equally well. She starts to wonder — why does she remember two separate lives? Where did her life split apart?

And then she remembers.

The book from there cuts back and forth between Patricia’s dual lives as Pat and Trish (and other name variations, too). In one life, she experiences a happy and fulfilling personal life but lives in a horror show of a world; in the other the world is a progressive wonderland but her personal life is a shambles.

Both lives are equally compelling, though, and I was just as happy about the small gains in Trish’s life as I was about the great gains in Pat’s, and even once I figured out that there wasn’t terribly much plot to the book I absolutely had to know what happened to both of them. Walton’s worldbuilding is amazing as well, especially for worlds that are basically the one I live in. Brief mentions of current events here and famous people there let me know that neither of these worlds is exactly like my own, which I thought was a smart touch. And it’s interesting what really struck me about the different worlds — moon bases are awesome, sure, but in one world there isn’t wifi in Patricia’s nursing home! How can she possibly survive?

And oh my goodness, Walton knows how to stick a landing, with both of Patricia’s lives slowly but surely unraveling into her state at the beginning of the book in only a slightly less terrible way than in, say Still Alice and then a Big Life Question asked and [spoiler not spoiler] totally not answered except that I know what I think the answer is and I don’t like it on an emotional level but on a rational level it makes perfect sense but hmmph. It’s a book that’s kept me thinking about it for weeks now.

Jo Walton, where have you been all my life?

Recommendation: For fans of alternate universes and life-encompassing stories, and those who wanted to like Life After Life but thought it was too complicated.

Rating: 10/10

3 thoughts on “My Real Children, by Jo Walton

  1. Jaye says:

    I just want to say that I *HATE* when you write 10/10 reviews, because I almost always want to read them but they’re almost always inconveniently timed. Why can’t you save all the good books until my semester breaks??

    I’m filing this one for future reference, though, because it sounds awesome.

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