In examining memory and self, Marcel Proust wrote, “Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were.” It is an interesting idea to keep in mind while reading Siri Hustvedt’s latest novel, MEMORIES OF THE FUTURE, the thoughtful and introspective story of a novelist looking back at a pivotal time in her life.

S.H. moves to New York City from her midwestern home in 1978 with hopes of adventure and the outline of her first novel in her head. Passages from her book, about a boy named Ian Feathers, his love for the fictional Sherlock Holmes and for his friend Isadora Simon, pepper MEMORIES OF THE FUTURE, and thus readers can see how her focus shifts as she works to get her story on the page. Also excerpted are long entries from S.H.’s diary kept from September 1978 to the summer of 1979, recording her experiences in the city. It is this diary, found decades later and reread, that, like Proust’s madeleine, sends the author spiraling through memories and questioning the past and its impact on the present. It is also in this diary that S.H. introduces her enigmatic neighbor, Lucy Brite.

"[A]s the book unfolds, it gets better and better, and more compelling, as Hustvedt’s philosophical and emotional ideas are articulated. Readers frustrated with the first couple of chapters will be rewarded for sticking with this story."

Through the walls and aided by a stethoscope, S.H. hears Lucy rant, day after day, about the death of her children and other frightening acts of violence. Theories abound among S.H. and her friends about Lucy: Is she insane, a time-traveler, an actress practicing lines? After S.H. is attacked by a would-be rapist and tended to by Lucy and her friends, she learns more about Lucy, her pain and her modes of coping. S.H. is drawn into Lucy’s circle, giving her first year in New York yet another layer of interest and perspective.

From the start, Hustvedt plays with both readers and her characters with stories within stories and the repetition of initials. Though this is a work of fiction, it is also about a writer who shares some things in common with Hustvedt herself. The story of Ian Feathers informs us about young S.H. just finding her voice as a storyteller. The diary tells us about S.H.’s life in New York. Surrounding and framing these narratives is that of S.H. today, a successful novelist, reflecting on who she was 40 years ago, on family, friends, culture and identity. The young S.H. is well read, precocious, sexual and gaining confidence. The elder S.H. admires her younger self but can acknowledge her naivety. She celebrates her younger self without romanticizing her youth, and misses her younger self without mourning her.

But in some important ways, Hustvedt lets us know that the two are distinct people, each in her own moment in time and each living in particular circumstances. There is quite a bit of rumination here, some navel gazing and self-indulgence to be sure. However, as the book unfolds, it gets better and better, and more compelling, as Hustvedt’s philosophical and emotional ideas are articulated. Readers frustrated with the first couple of chapters will be rewarded for sticking with this story.

“Can the past serve as a hiding place from the present,” Hustvedt asks, “Is this book you are reading now my search for a destination called Then? Tell me where memory ends and invention begins.”