In Nevertheless, Gillian Jerome walks through life in Vancouver, British Columbia, with her eyes wide open. She takes in everything: the freckles on a dying loved one’s head, the man asleep on the sidewalk with a half-eaten pork bun, her own vivid dreams, the oak leaves which are the color of tangerines, a man drawing a totem, a woman with a swollen foot surrounded by irises and poppies, and thimbleberries and western anemones. Through these and other observations, Jerome explores grief, separation from her partner, friendship, marginalized communities, mistreatment of indigenous people, new love, environmental degradation, and the maturing of her child, among other topics. In all of it, be it good, bad, sad, or bittersweet, Jerome finds beauty, meaning, and poetry. Along the way, she crafts some unforgettable lines: “Sometimes your heart’s a wavelength, the only arrhythmia of the night—” or “where I sat for elongated minutes in the quiet lake glimmering in the gold-green August light.” Nevertheless is a delight to read and a delight which readers may find themselves reaching to savor over and over again.
Originally published on Manhattan Book Review.