Reviewed by Kristin
Clementine is a book publicist in New York City, living in her
late-aunt’s apartment. She is dedicated to her job and may even be up for
promotion when her small press supervisor begins planning for retirement. Clementine’s
best friends even work for the same company. Life is good, except for the
late-aunt part. Clementine misses Analea terribly.
Clementine and Analea had been travel companions since
Clementine was old enough to tag along, hiking in Europe and visiting a host of
exotic destinations. Clementine always took her annual vacation at the end of
summer, but without her aunt, she just can’t bear to travel.
Clementine walks back into her apartment at the end of a
workday expecting to see still packed boxes and bare bones furniture, but
instead she finds pieces of her aunt’s furniture and belongings that she knows were given away years ago. And, oh
yeah, she also finds a tall blond man with a charming Southern accent. When
“Iwan” introduces himself, he tells Clementine that Analea is subletting her
apartment to him this summer, while she is in Europe. Umm, excuse me?
Iwan is fresh from North Carolina and just getting started in
the city. He wants to be a chef to make his grandfather proud, but at the
moment he would settle for a dishwasher job to get his foot in the door at a
good restaurant. He is passionate about his cooking, and shares with Clementine
how a simple meal can be a sublime experience.
Analea always told Clementine that the apartment was magical,
and even noted (strangely!) that she should never fall in love inside it, but
Analea did not mention that once in a
while the entire apartment would slip seven years into the past.
Time slips forward and back, as Clementine gets to know Iwan
in the past; she eventually begins to wonder where he is in his future, and in
her present.
Lately I seem to be finding and reading books that involve
time travel. Or maybe they are just finding me. Full of deconstructed lemon
pies, taco trucks, and time bending relationships, The Seven Year Slip
is a delight.
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