“Our stories start in the water.”
Song of Belonging is a meditation on the interconnectedness of sea life, Earth, and humans’ roles within that system. Told through perspectives from three women, myth and reality are folded into a story of family, history, tragedy, hopefulness, and change.
If you’re aquaphobic, afraid of the ocean or bodies of water, this may not be the best pick for you. H₂O is an essential element, whether it be from rivers, seas, oceans, or bayous. It’s a prominent theme, sometimes metaphor and elsewhere a frequent connection between the past and the present. In fact, if you were to add up the amount of times water or its related terms come up, you would have 606 occurrences. That’s not to say that the theme itself is overdone. What the story does with water is at times deep, surprising, saddening, and simply interesting. It’s a wonder that the word water never surfaces in the title. (That’s a count of ten “water or its related terms” within this paragraph.)
St. Romain successfully creates an atmospheric, mystical chronicle of a woman’s exploration of herself. Question weave throughout that ask: What is my purpose? Where do I belong? Through examination of her past, her lineage, her visions and experiences at the threshold between life and what is after, Alice’s journey deepens as it blossoms.
One of the book’s features is the range and power of its female characters. Although the narrative delves into a heterosexual romance, which frankly brings little significance as a whole, its other characters shine a bright light. Wisdom is plentiful from the women in her life, whether it be her great-grandmère, her new friends, Aunt Annie and Tutu Amelia, Lily’s story, or Mother Earth herself. Annie and Amelia stand out in particular as supportive guides who help Alice bridge worlds, the sage crones aiding the maiden. Self-proclaimed older women, they drink at the local pub, volunteer at the Pacific Marine Mammal Center, and serve as spiritual guides:
“It’s not hard to see when the spirits of other worlds and times visit us if we open ourselves and are not afraid to look,” Tutu Amelia said. “You do not seem to be afraid. That’s good. The spirits welcome those who are brave in their hearts and minds. Bravery in the face of challenge is what helps us through everything in life, especially when people around us don’t know what to do.”
Animals are of great significance as well, mainly those pertaining to the water—whales, seals, turtles. St. Romain also addresses the lack of protection humans offer wildlife, especially around the rise of plastics. These are heavy topics that do not take away from Alice’s story, instead encouraging and advocating for better protections. Intentional or not, there is a fascinating juxtaposition between the crawfish and sea animals Alice eats, and the ones she wishes to protect. In that way, Alice is much like many people who hold contradictions they haven’t yet resolved, thereby coming across not just as a character but a three-dimensional person.
The ending leans into more traditional resolutions than the novel’s premise might suggest, but Alice’s personal discovery is worthwhile and sound. As the title promises, the song of belonging that plays throughout this mystical melody is a hopeful one. Although her realization may appear simplistic, its simplicity makes it truly part of the human condition. Alice’s explorations come full circle with her ancestry and her own inclinations in a natural and rewarding crest.

