Our Wives Under The Sea: Review & Analysis
- Apr 28
- 5 min read
Cosmic horror and stark humanity in a compelling queer novel
Overview
Last night I had the pleasure of attending a second book club discussion of Our Wives Under The Sea by Julia Armfield, after previously enjoying one back in October.
I had intended to write about the book back then, but for whatever reason it never quite found its way into an article, and after a certain point I suppose I forgot just how effective and haunting it was.
No longer, though, as I’m fresh off a re-read and an insightful discussion. This is a deeply fascinating book which I recommend you experience for yourself; especially if, like me, you're a fan of eerie, absorbing mysteries and powerful metaphors.
To give a brief synopsis: Our Wives Under The Sea follows girlfriends Miri and Leah in alternating chapters. We see Leah as one of three crewmembers aboard a mysterious deep sea exploration mission which quickly goes wrong. Miri's chapters take place after Leah's return, with flashbacks to her life before and during Leah's mission. Both narratives are tense and atmospheric, and explore the book's mysteries from different angles.
Again, give it a try if you're able and interested! But as always I also hope that my discussion might convince other folks to give it a try, or at least to enjoy the book’s narrative and message second-hand. Spoilers ahead.
The Surface Story
Leah is an experienced marine biologist who has recently begun working at the ‘Center for Marine Enquiry’, an organization consistently described as strange and unusual by different characters throughout the book.
The Center sends Leah on a three-week deep sea mission alongside Jelka and Matteo, both of whom she’s worked with previously. Almost immediately upon entering the water, their submarine loses all function except for the bare necessities to keep the crew alive. An inexplicable scent of burning meat accompanies their fall and recurs throughout.
As their craft sinks for hours or days, we see Jelka quickly turn to her religion for comfort, Matteo first grappling with the useless controls then attempting to ritually isolate himself within a ring of flashlights, and Leah sinking within herself to thoughts of Miri and the rest of her life.
Eventually the ship settles and haunting noises begin ringing out around them. Their senses of time and reality warp; Jelka begins hearing a voice in the alien noise and Matteo once lashes out with uncharacteristic violence.
Finally Jelka exits the craft while her fellows aren’t watching, presumed immediately killed by the immense pressure at that depth. Soon after the craft’s function returns, but before returning to the surface, Leah and Matteo encounter a gargantuan being which seems to observe them under its baleful gaze.
~
I’ll be focusing on Miri’s chapters more in the next section, so a lighter summary for her here. Leah is returned to her after six months, rather than the expected three weeks. But like Annihilation and Kinds of Kindness and so many other stories, Leah seems to have come back wrong.
Rarely herself and prone to spouting random facts and observations about the ocean, this Leah also becomes more and more dependent on saltwater as she simultaneously eats less and less regular food. Her skin becomes scaled and silvery in places and she leaves an inch of encrusted pink detritus behind her every time she takes a bath.
Her condition escalates; Miri can get no answers from the cagey and disappearing Center, and eventually takes a mutated and barely recognizable Leah to the sea, where she completely dissolves into the water. The end.
The Profound Depths
While my ever fascinated by speculative fiction mind is very interested in that story, the book club last night emphasized to me that for many people Leah’s journey is merely the bones holding the meat of Miri’s chapters in place. And it’s tough to argue, because the metaphors here are rich.
Miri’s flashbacks show her processing her mother’s decline and passing around the same time she met and started dating Leah. It’s an immediately potent backdrop to her current relationship with Leah, painting this decline as parallel to her mother’s.
Another perfectly justifiable reading is that this is a metaphor for Miri and Leah growing apart; Leah seeming more distant and alien with every passing day while Miri tries her best to help and adapts to do so in new ways. This is also supported by their couples therapist, who asks whether Miri fully comprehends everything Leah went through and might still be dealing with.
There’s a plethora of rich theming and parallels to be found on a first or second read. Both Miri and Leah’s chapters are claustrophobic and isolated, their every waking hour filled with unwanted noise from the neighbours’ TV and outside the ship respectively.
Jelka tells the tale of Saint Lidwina, whose suffering is an eerie echo of Leah’s later transformation. Despite being a scientist, Leah also apparently believes she has had experiences with ghosts; juicy literally or metaphorically.
All three crewmembers have profound associations with the sea prior to this mission, perhaps making them ideal candidates or simply foreshadowing their experiences and fates.
Perhaps Leah never returned and the story is an exploration of Miri’s journey with grief; perhaps she did and Miri’s grief is for the person she thought she knew, or for the relationship.
I’m sure there’s much more here, and I’d love to hear your takes!
Theories & Final Thoughts
I can’t help but engage with the speculative elements here directly as well, fruitless as it will certainly be.
My take is that the Center for Marine Enquiry is concerned solely with that creature down there. (Their logo’s an eye, they have a religious vibe at the mission’s farewell party, and damn if they don’t later disappear off the face of the Earth.)
Are they a cult, offering Jelka’s life to their god? Scientists, seeing its effect on the crew’s minds? Disciples offering prayers, or adversaries searching for weaknesses? Impossible to say.
By far the most incongruous element is that smell of burning meat, experienced by the whole crew multiple times. Symbolically it evokes a journey into hell (Orpheus and Eurydice?) or perhaps the crew’s sacrificial role as a burnt offering. If more literal, perhaps the crew died on the descent? Or did the Center have other sacrifices hidden away and burning aboard the craft? Or did some engineer leave their Big Mac in the engine?
I have no idea, and it’s the kind of bizarre, tantalizing mystery that will keep me coming back to this story looking for more hints and meaning.
In case it’s not clear, 5 stars. 10. Perhaps 666. Read it, it’s great!
Thanks for reading and until next time <3
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