Swimming

When Philomena "Pip" Ash was nine months old, her parents entered her in a baby water class; she amazed everyone when, unlike the other kids who plopped and fell, she began smoothly moving through the water. Olympic coach Ernest K. Mankovitz trains Pip turning her into an unbeatable swimming robot who wins gold medals in three Olympic Games. Over the years of her success, Pip's older sister dies of cancer, her father is killed in a plane crash, and her mother collapses mentally with an endless string of nervous breakdowns. The pool is where Pip denies her ghosts, but she never learns to relate. However, as her career winds down, Pip finds herself increasingly dealing with the demons that haunt her as she can no longer sublimate her feelings by swimming. Character driven, this is a super look at a person whose only psychological defense mechanism over the years of tragedy is swimming, but now with her career waning, even the pool is no longer a haven for her. Pip is terrific with her cursing about life's unfairness as all the emotions she psychologically avoided by swimming away from them are igniting inside her now. With a candid look at real and metaphoric death (as this is not just the demise of a person) through the confused mocking lead character, whose convoluted ramblings can be difficult to follow, SWIMMING is a gold metal winner. Harriet Klausner

This is a poet's novel: lyrical, profound, disturbing, enriching. A work of courageous honesty and depth. A first novel, but a master-work. Swimming is the first-person narrative story of the character "Pip" (Philomena). It starts with her learning that she can swim before she can walk or talk. Pip's early childhood is revealed in a series of "snapshot" chapters that reminded me of the spottiness of childhood memories. Then she provides a more connected narrative from early teens, through the critical point where she transitions to a serious competitor, through intensive training to world-class triumph, and beyond. The book's style and tone are remarkable, though I may struggle to describe them. The story flows easily: it becomes compelling, an unusual kind of page-turner. It is told in an intimate yet detached way. I didn't know what year it was for more than 100 pages, nor her last name for nearly 200; but Pip, her family, her friends are spotlighted with a clear, penetrating insight that is non-judgmental but merciless and somehow warmer for that. I felt that I knew these people, and I ached for their sorrows even as their story evoked memories of my own. Pip's key transition is sharply drawn, and leaves the clear impression that things could have gone otherwise: rather than "champion" she might have earned any of a dozen lesser titles; there aren't many judgmental labels in the book, but I might call some of the alternatives "stoner", "town pump", "couch potato". Pip's experiences are so very particular that the deeper truth of her story becomes universal. We understand a "champion" as a state in a continuity with the varied conditions of those around Pip, a condition that seems "special" more due to media attention than anything else. There were a few things that bothered me a little about the book as I was reading it. The opening chapter, in first-person by a nine-month-old girl, struck me as a bit off (unrealistic? pretentious?) in places as I first read it. But I decided later that it had to be written as it was, to set up the book's overall tone. And I felt some doubts in some early chapters as to how they would contribute to the story: was the book wandering? Perhaps a little, but at the critical point I felt I knew Pip well enough to understand what she was doing. This is a remarkable book. After reading it I feel I know more about what it is to be human than I did before, and some of my own memories have a currency that I have not felt for many years. I highly recommend working through any doubts such as those I had in the early parts of the book: you will be well rewarded.

Keegan's masterful, evocative, and quirky writing style alone would have pulled me in. Yet in addition there is Smimming's captivating portrayal of Pip's heartbreak and grief, as well as her survival and transcendence of life's ups and downs. I loved getting swept up in Keegan's rendering of the experiences of an Olympic swimming champion--fascinating are details about what the training involves, how the swimmers relate to one another--but ultimately what made me love this book is Keegan's compassion as a writer. It is a compassion that shows even the flaws and failings of her characters with deep understanding.

This is a beautiful, magical, lonely, funny novel full of razer-sharp, witty observations, descriptions, thoughts both tragic and lovely written as poetry - but not saccharine poetry...poem-sentences made of gravelly scabbed knees, battered hearts as well as beauty and poignancy. And the internal voice of someone isolated is pure and relatable.... and makes me want to stop sleep walking and start seeing my life in the eyes that I used to as a child - always sad, but always true - sometimes biting and harsh..... but passionate and vulnerable. Yes, she is a swimmer - but this is about a much wider and narrower and taller and smaller life. "...the unbearable lightness" is a resonating hum throughout. Ms. Keegan has a very unique voice and style that may strike some as confusing at the start of the read - but stick with it. It quickly becomes as natural as your own thoughts and will haunt you (in a good way) long afterwards like your own memories.

Nicola Keegan's irrepressible first novel tells the story of a young girl's rise from a tall Kansas hick to world- famous Olympic swimmer. I loved the book for its dissection of the competitive spirit, the details of training (including the motivational speeches and the required diets) and the mentality of the super athlete. The analysis of the opposition was both snarky and sympathetic. I loved this book for its depiction of swimming as escape from the burdens that life places upon families through illness, through dysfunction, through grief and loss and difference and plain old growing up. "Swimming" also gives us the friendship of Philomena and the Cocoplat with warmth and grace as the two change, grow, grow apart, reconcile. I loved this book for the voice of the narrator, Philomena, her honesty, exuberance, humor, "eye talk," nun-parodies, and self-doubt. "Swimming" is a funny, heart-breaking, wild, detailed, luminous, shattering, and wonderful book. It is absolutely my favorite book in years. Brava, brava, brava, Ms. Keegan! "Swimming" is "Ulysses" without the intellectual pretense. The esteemed Harold Bloom of Yale may not agree, but I have "nunnerisms" straight from Philomena to tell him what I think of all that literary blather. This is a book for the ages and the people, not just the ivory-tower crowd.