I really appreciate a book where, even weeks after finishing it, I'm still struggling to figure out what it was exactly that I read. Is it a confession? A fairy-tale? An extended metaphor? All or none of the above? Asking around my friends who have read this, and even looking at the reviews on LT, this book seems to produce divided opinions. Some of those are simply downright misguided: a lot of readers seem to expect this to be a naturalistic account of an undersea science trip and a realistic portrayal of two people's relationship. This is despite the fact that the novel features a person literally falling apart and what may or may not be a giant sea monster. But I kind of understand those responses because part of the unsettling aspect of the novel is that it does seem to set up expectations for a realistic treatment of its subject. But this ostensibly naturalistic setting is wrapped in layers of fantasy and myth right from the beginning, not to mention the inclusion of a menacing entity that may be a science startup or may be a government agency or may be something else again. This is definitely not a book for anyone who likes to have everything explained for them; when you finish this you *will* have questions, and you will be left puzzled.

But it seems clear that that is what Armfield is going for here. This is a book about what happens when we lose sight of the profound strangeness of ourselves to one another, and our relationship with the natural world. It looks at what happens when explanations fail to deliver the promised clarity, and to that end the repeated attempts to disrupt our narrative, character, and genre expectations makes a deliberately imperfect sense. ( )

Wow, the writing in this book is beautiful. It’s very heavy with the metaphors, but done in such a perfect way. This horror book (which is what it is although I never really felt that was the focus) is a sapphic romance about connection, loss, and acceptance. With alternating perspectives, I really felt I understood the depth of their relationship from both sides. The story was truly heartbreaking and although I knew it was headed in the direction that it went, I stayed completely engrossed in their narratives.

ALMOST a five star…there is a fine line between leaving some parts up to the imagination and leaving too much unanswered that the reader is left confused and frustrated…I felt this book leaned too much toward the latter. I would have liked just a few more answers, even though I understand their relationship was supposed to be the focus and not as much what happened in the end. Great book, highly recommend! ( )

3.5 stars actually. the ocean is scary! and 'when the grief is inevitable' is also scary!! ( )

this was such a stunning exploration of love and loss and grief and mourning someone who is right in front of you with a bit of (lovecraft, annihilation, the shape of water- i've seen all these associations and agree) horror. julia's writing is gorgeous, she gives you the kind of sentences you just have to sit with, read over and over and appreciate. the story is a slow wade, and once you start receiving answers it's going to be just enough to infer and imagine but that's all you're going to get. AND I LOVE THAT SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is for the ambiguous plot lovers, hill house enjoyers, and horror fans that love to leave feeling completely emotionally wrung out rather than with a racing heart. ( )

Very slow paced and very strange…like I can’t think of a single other book like this one. People keep comparing it to “Annihilation” and while I understand the comparison I disagree; “Our Wives Under the Sea” is much more introspective and tender, and overall I think the characters are much more likable. Those prose here is really lovely and evocative, and it fits the story wonderfully. Although I’m not sure who exactly I’d recommend this to, I’m so glad I read it!! A definite standout, if only for how unique it is. ( )