A unique work of auto-fiction - I preferred Chen's previous book, So Many Olympic Exertions, but enjoyed this one as well

Anelise Chen’s Clam Down is a wondrously unusual memoir that blurs the line between nonfiction and fiction, offering a deeply introspective yet humorous exploration of retreat, transformation, and reemergence. After her divorce, the narrator undergoes an unexpected metamorphosis—not into the infamous Kafkaesque cockroach, but into a clam. This transformation, sparked by a text typo from her mother telling her to "clam down," leads her to examine what it truly means to withdraw from the world and whether isolation is a necessary step toward healing or simply a barrier to overcome. Through a mix of personal reflection, research, and an unconventional storytelling structure, Chen weaves together themes of solitude, family, and interspecies kinship in a way that is both intellectually stimulating and emotionally resonant.

As someone who struggles to stay engaged with traditional nonfiction, I found Clam Down to be the perfect bridge. It reads like a novel while delivering the depth and insight of memoir and research. The sections were captivating, from the revelation of the narrator’s mother as secretly fun and open, to the deep dives into mollusk history and human parallels. One of the more unexpected elements—the interviews with “Asian clams”—initially felt bizarre, but as I read on, I realized they mirrored real-life interviews with Chinese immigrants from the 1800s and 1900s, adding a layer of historical weight to the book.

Beyond the unique structure, I loved the fascinating tidbits scattered throughout—Darwin’s connection to mollusks, Georgia O’Keeffe’s shellfish line, and more. The narrator’s father’s storyline, however, left me both intrigued and slightly puzzled. Did he write his own sections? Were they written in his voice based on interviews? Or were they entirely reconstructed by the narrator? Regardless, I found myself unexpectedly rooting for him, even more than anyone else in the book—a rare shift for me, as I usually champion the women in a narrative. His Shell Company’s icons and his retreat into work were oddly compelling, making his eventual “emergence” all the more satisfying.

In the end, Clam Down is completely unique, witty, and genre-bending. It challenges the way we think about memoir, storytelling, and even our own instincts to close ourselves off or open back up. I’m grateful to NetGalley and Random House Publishing Group- One World for the advanced copy and for the opportunity to experience such an inventive and thought-provoking book.