Migrations, by Charlotte McConaghy, is a world apart. It teeters on the brink of disaster, both ecological and personal. Migrations is a story peripherally about climate change, but also about longing and searching. When finished reading, I felt let down and had more questions than answers. Migrations is the story of Franny Stone Lynch and her quest for I’m not sure what, love maybe, a sense of confidence and self, possibly. I did not connect with Franny, the narrator and thought she was unreliable, as in remarks she makes to others about her parents. To say the least, Franny has an innate urge for wanderlust.
Why the Wanderlust?
An explicit, or even implicit, reason for Franny’s itchy feet was never offered. Franny says of herself, “I leave for no reason, just to keep moving.” She had found love with Niall and acceptance and companionship, maybe even love, with Ennis Malone. Similarly, even Penny, Niall’s mother, accepted Franny and helped her.
In the end, what became of Ennis and his salty, eccentric crew on The Saghani? These folks are too integral to the plot to just fade away. The backstory kept jolting me out of the story. What? When did this happen, now? Where is this, again?
And, why bring in Franny’s father exactly at the end of the story? What did he have to do with anything except possibly in a minimal way by his absence. I enjoyed Niall and Ennis and wished for a better way to have their story told.
Migrations is a world apart, one that is lost. Franny says, “my life has been a migration without a destination, and that in itself is senseless.” To me, the course of this book feels much like that. I felt almost as adrift as Franny.
I received an Advance Reader Copy in exchange for my honest opinion.