(4/21/2020)
I agree with one reviewer of Charlotte McConaghy's novel Migrations in that it is a "deeply moving and consistently unsettling novel, both personal and global." From the first page, Franny Stone reveals just enough about herself and the environment to know something is tragically wrong with both. Broken proves a dominant theme of this novel. Throughout Franny's mission to follow the migration of the world's last flock of Artic Terns, the reader discovers, bit by bit, Franny is a destroyer. She wrecks everything and everyone she touches. Franny romanticizes that her "wandering" nature is an inherent trait passed from her mother and her mother before that. However, when examined closer, one can see her wandering, and resulting emotional destruction, comes not from a gene passed through the generations, but rather a horrifically tragic event. Her life is one big lie, both to herself and those around her.
Even though McConaghy's novel is a page turner that kept me reading too late many nights, I found myself not liking Franny at all. I feel she is supposed to be the sympathetic victim we are to root for and fall in love with, but I'm not sold. In life, we are all responsible for our actions. No matter how horrible the cards we are dealt, we have a responsibility to protect others, even if it's from ourselves. I found irony in the fact that she felt so deeply about the animals going extinct, but did little to save the people she loved from herself. Now, I had moments of weakness when Franny was bluntly honest (in retrospect) and bared her soul to show the workings within. In those moments, my heart truly hurt for her. I could see her as a little injured bird, so fragile the slightest disruptions may end her life right then and there.
McConaghy's prose throughout the novel is as rhythmic as the ocean Franny sails, and Franny's emotions are as volatile as the storms that rage on that same sea. In many ways, the Terns and Franny live the same life and, in the end, the Terns bring her back.