Someday, Maybe

Someday, Maybe. Nwabineli, Onyi. Toronto, Ontario, Canada: Graydon House, [2022].

Content Warning: Suicide, depression, grief

“Someday, maybe” is a quote that sums up hopes and fears of our main character. It’s a response that stagnates her into this unknown space between “yes” and “no.” Onyi Nwabineli’s Someday, Maybe follows Eve Ezenwa-Morrow, the novel’s protagonist as she tries to navigate life after the death of her husband, Quentin Morrow, to suicide.

After his death on New Year’s Eve, she is so weighed down by the grief that follows that a new personality emerges: the “Eve of now” which is vastly different from the “Eve of before.” Most of the plot takes place at her home in London, where Eve is plagued by reminders of the life she once shared with Quentin. Grief seems to be the other main character, as Eve is all but “content to wallow in [grief’s] cesspit for all eternity because it is like poking at a mouth ulcer with the tip of your tongue—inadvisable, painful, but addictive.”

Onyi Nwabineli is truly a master wordsmith with how she is able to convey grief with such raw poignancy. The story staggers forward, mended together with memories from Eve’s childhood and her relationship with Quentin, a photographer from one of London’s elite families. Nwabineli skillfully intertwines Eve’s Igbo heritage into the story by including phrases, food, and traditions. Nwabineli succeeds in making you see how grief can strain what was once very close family ties. It isolates Eve in a pool of melancholy at the smallest reminder of Quentin; and reduces the importance of everything else in her life, including her career. Her ice-cold mother-in-law Aspen, also remains ever present in the background of Eve’s grief, further spiraling her into a world of depression.

Readers should be warned that the novel does deal with suicide, and it does describe aspects of Quentin’s death, but it doesn’t go on to clarify the method until late in the book. Someday, Maybe could be considered as a study on grief that forces the reader to examine it without turning away. As each page goes on, the readers are experiencing that grief with her – along with the well-meaning attempts from her friends and family at “fixing” it.

Chantell Huell is a Circulation Assistant at North Park Library. She can be reached at Chuell@alamancelibraries.org.