Lainey simply can't believe that her husband could be taken from her by a freak accident. Yet there he is, in an impenetrable coma after being knocked out by a falling chunk of ice. Despite everyone's belief that she should accept he'll never recover, Lainey knows that if she can just make a connection, Jay will come back to her. Even after he's transferred to a nursing home, and despite the open scorn of many of the nursing staff, Lainey dresses Jay in familiar clothes, brings in his favourite foods, encourages her young daughters to visit, plays music, talks to him as though he never left his life, and performs the vital range of motion exercises that keep his limbs flexible for when he resumes his life. And through it all she rehearses how she'll tell the story of his recovery: "I turned an afternoon movie on his television. Black and white. Bette Davis. I started to tell his to pay attention, this was a good part, and he woke up. That's all. that's it. You just have to wait. You just have to believe."
But real life goes on despite her. Younger daughter Amy's started wetting the bed, older daughter Sarah's becoming combative and hostile, and Lainey's closest friend and neighbour, good hearted but plain Alice has issues of her own. And while they're something of a comfort, the visions Lainey has of the woman who used to live in their house are becoming clearer by the day, and when Evie starts talking to her Lainey feels alarmed as well as reassured.
The beauty of Berg's writing is its truth. When Lainey notes that her daughter "is turning into herself in these little ways. She is like stepping into a garden every day, when you know something is new, different from the day before" it so perfectly captures the infinitesimal but constant change of children that it rings. She observes the little moments and minute pleasures (accused of being "the kind of person who gets happy if the leftovers fit exactly into the Tupperware container," Lainey admits that she "get[s] a little charge when everything fits") as much as the devastation and ecstasy of the big things.
I was a little uncomfortable with Lainey's confidence in the face of Jay's diagnosis, and particularly wary of the novel giving false hope to the unfortunate families for whom an awakening will never come. I was also concerned about the other ending, of Lainey losing her hope and faith, of the extinguishing of her light. Though Range of Motion doesn't always go where I expected, and was a delight, I am still a little concerned about laypeople trusting more in hope than medical prognosis. On the other hand, I've seen enough doctors make enough unmet dire predictions to know that you never know, and that's part of what's at the heart of this very good novel. - Alex
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