Growing up, identical twins Paula and Artis speak in one voice—until they can't. After years apart, with lives, partners, and children of their own, they are reunited on the occasion of their father's funeral. Seeking to repair the damage wrought upon their relationship by outside forces, the twins retrace their early lives to uncover what happened—but risk unraveling their carefully constructed cocoons.
Written in spare,lyrical prose,Halfis an achingly beautiful story of intimacy and loss, revealing the complexity—and cost—of sharing your life entirely with someone else. Sharon Harrigan deftly explores how fierce lovecanalso be the very thing that leadsto heartbreak and betrayal.
About the Author
Sharon Harrigan teaches at WriterHouse, a nonprofit literary center in Charlottesville, Virginia. She is the author of Playing with Dynamite: A Memoir. Her work has appeared in the New York Times (Modern Love), Narrative, Virginia Quarterly Review, and elsewhere.
“Half is a bright and inventive novel like no other. I was swept away, mesmerized, pulled into the conspiracy that is twindom, with its exquisite sweetness and cruelty. The mystery that propels the story forward artfully reflects the mystery of twindom itself.”—Bonnie Jo Campbell, author of American Salvage
“I loved this novel. I couldn't put it down. In its (nearly) collective narration by sisters, Half reminds me of Jeffrey Eugenides's The Virgin Suicides, but the story is dazzling, startling, and fresh. Half proves irresistible page after lyrical page.”—Jesse Lee Kercheval, author of Underground Women
“Innovative and inventive, this novel does the impossible. It makes us believe two people can be so close they are virtually the same person. Harrigan's magic trick is so convincing that when the twins lose their bond, we feel ourselves being broken in half too.”—Bret Anthony Johnston, author of Remember Me Like This
“At turns remarkably lovely and frighteningly odd, Half is as sweet as it is creepy and strange. The story is told from the plural perspective of twins, reminiscent of Justin Torres's We the Animals, with tension so organically built i