Homebound

I feel duty bound, as a writer, to warn you that before you pick up a copy of Portia Elan’s debut Homebound, you should finish whatever you are working on. Firstly, because I could not put it down and therefore ignored everything in my life while staying up until 3 am finishing it. Secondly, because I immediately knew I would never write anything even close to this good. Thirdly, because I sat here in front of this blank page for weeks trying to figure out how to write a review of something that changed me so profoundly. However, I am told book reviewers are a dying breed and in order for good books to find their readers book influencers have to step up. So I am putting on my big girl panties and attempting to be coherent while fangirling over this book.

The truth is, Homebound is actually several books in one. There are multiple narratives including a story about grief and coming out in 1980’s, an interactive computer game, an automaton that has somehow gained sentience and is now looking for the meaning of life, and a sea captain trying to protect those she loves in a dystopian future. While the discerning reader can find links in the characters of these stories, the thematic connection is clear even to those of us who are simply looking to enjoy some extremely hypnotic prose. Homebound is a story of seeking connection, what we owe ourselves and each other, and how to be your true self in the face of unfortunate odds. While it is a work of prose, including fun experimental formats, it has the soul of a poem.

It should therefore not be surprising to learn that Elan is also a poet. Or that her instagram and bio feature numerous cats. There is something elusive about cats that makes one suspect they know all the secrets of the universe, if only we could convince them to enlighten the rest of us. Homebound winks at the reader as we rifle through the pages as fast as we can in our eagerness to learn the ending, only to find ourselves flipping backwards to reread a particular paragraph laden with meanings that become more clear as we move forward. Indeed, I was sad when it ended and there was no more to read, but I was also amused at the trick the narrative had pulled on me. It turns, the meaning of the universe is within us all, if only we can learn to listen. Elan knows how to listen. She also knows how to grab your attention and force you to listen too.

Do I sound like a fan? I am. But that brings me to my last disclaimer. I am fortunate to have virtually work shopped fiction with her, and I have never met a kinder soul. Reading Homebound in several iterations was a masterclass in fiction for me. I am still convinced I will never write anything as good as even the drafts of this story that wound up on the editing room floor. But I am no longer willing to give in to writers block. Because what I owe myself, is to continue sharing my stories, and what I owe my reading and writing community is to continue to boost the books that have impacted me. Homebound will heal you. It will bring you closer to true community. You should read it. You owe it to yourself.

Note: BookishlyJewish received a copy of this book from the author.

Find It: Amazon | Bookshop