There are connections in life, even a life in the midst of a pandemic, that tie our personal joy and pain to those of others. The narrator of The Vulnerables is a writer trapped by circumstance (the circumstance of not owning a second house in the country as it appears most of her friends do) in New York City during COVID. If you recall those early months of 2020, you may also have had the sense that nothing was beyond strange. Even finding oneself in a friend’s palatial Manhattan apartment taking care of their parrot while one’s own apartment was being used by a doctor from Oregon volunteering her services in New York City. If a volatile youth joins you in the apartment — the former caretaker of the parrot — then that too is just one of those things that happen in life. And eventually, perhaps, one’s writer’s block will ease. Maybe.

Filled with beguiling discussions of art and life and seemingly random enthusiasms, Nunez’ novel takes its time to form a clear picture. Like the brain fog often identified as both a symptom of the illness and of isolation anxiety. But give it time and it will reward your patience. A gentle, thoughtful, very human take on vulnerability in uncertain times.

Recommended. ( )

"The Friend" is one of my favorite novels of all time; it and "What are You Going Through" were both 5 stars for me. I was very much looking forward to reading this novel, as I like (perhaps oddly) reading books set during the pandemic. But I'm sorry to report that this just fell short for me. The writing was good, of course, but the removed, discursive style just didn't work when there was no plot to move it along. There was just too much detail about people I really didn't care about - except for Vetch and the parrot. ( )

Here's how it felt to me to be reading The Vulnerables. A little bit creepy sometimes (I am a 'vulnerable' being over 60), a little bit as if the narrator and I are kind of the same person (if we were being compared in a venn diagram only a little bit of the outer edges would show), a little bit smug (probably shouldn't be, but I have managed to sustain a long relationship, to bring up a child, ditto many pets and so maybe less self-absorbed?) and very very very much grateful that I live in the country. The pandemic was a completely different experience (even in Vermont where it is always winter) because we hosted and attended any number of outdoor events thus kept a social life happening, could be outside as much as we liked and even shop without too much fear by observing the early hours for, yeah, vulnerables. But the book is so much more -- for Nunez the pandemic opened up the hidden side of being vulnerable, the one that goes far beyond age or locale, one that is infinitely expanding as well, from the African Grey that the narrator agrees to care for, to the owner of the apartment on a trip to parents 7 months pregnant ending up stuck on the other side of the country, (although I could not, for the life of me, understand why they didn't buy or rent a car and drive back, obviously very well-to-do as they were), to the young man with whom she ends up having to share the huge apartment with (residence of aforementioned parrot), to choosing to be a writer and therefore definitely not considered essential (no matter how mistaken). The novel appears to wander somewhat aimlessly starting with a meditation on how to begin a novel and why she is a writer, to meditation on how love, while essential, also makes us vulnerable. For the first third of the book, in fact, one begins to think that perhaps this is the story of a group of women, all with flower names, and their different relationships with men, children until it becomes obvious that no, this is a made up part, fiction, but a meditation all the same on how vulnerable love makes one. How humans struggle to connect with each other and the world, how difficult it is. That the essential job of a writer is to "imagine the lives of others and what they are going through". I cannot recommend this novel more highly.
***** ( )

The Vulnerables by Sigrid Nunez is a short novel that covers a lot of intellectual ground while staying in a very limited physical area.

I found myself reading this novel too quickly the first time, thoughts I wanted to consider, both of the protagonist and my own, went by too quickly because I was intent on the act of reading. While I enjoyed it the first time through, it was the second more reflective reading that really struck home for me. This isn't a novel to read to "find out what happens next," but rather to think about. In particular to think about whatever ideas the novel may stir within your own mind and from your own experiences. If you've ever worked your way through a book of prompts, maybe writing prompts or poetry prompts, I think you might have some idea of what this book can offer. Two big differences: these are thinking prompts and they aren't isolated prompts but fit within an impactful framework that gives you a perspective on each thought from which to take off. Maybe in agreement, maybe in disagreement, maybe simply in recalling moments from your own life.

The three characters we come to know best, yes the bird is included here, give us a dynamic from which we observe what relationships can mean to a person. Interpersonal, interspecies, intergenerational, and with the society we live in, every relationship is examined from multiple perspectives, some positive and some negative, but always in flux.

This likely won't appeal to readers who want more action, in the form of physical activity. Much of this is personal contemplation and low activity interaction between a limited number of characters. But if you're a reader who likes to read books that make you think, about big thoughts as well as mundane smaller ones, you will love this novel. Allow yourself to pause while reading to interact with the ideas. These aren't lessons or sermons, these are thoughts that welcome more thoughts. Engage and you will be rewarded.

Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley. ( )