Elen is 38 and spends her days drinking in Bend, Oregon after her husband leaves her. Following an encounter with four wealthy English twenty-somethings in a bar, she is invited into their midst and joins them as they tour the world, squatting in empty houses and airbnbs to ski and foster their psuedo-socialist, psuedo-cult camaraderie.

This was such a peculiar premise that I was immediately intrigued although I did approach with a little trepidation at the risk that this might appear slightly gimmicky - I'm glad to say that it didn't and Lewis pulls the strands of this story together well enough to create something very thought-provoking and ruminative. The descriptions of the group and their language and behaviours did make me laugh out loud at points because it was so accurate in its depiction of young, wealthy posh kids. It's exactly this sense of accuracy and portrayal without immediate and explicit condemnation that makes this book work so well. Like Elen, the reader is drawn by the charisma and quirky group appeal - the outward appearance of the group and their collective desire to connect to nature, idealising a compact community unit that thrives on mutual support and utter commitment.

I appreciated the novel's quiet but clear examination of these characters and their privilege, the capacity to live out such idealism with the support of family wealth (and the reassuring knowledge that if they so desire they will be able to leave it all behind for future traditional success). Their supposed values already strike a discordant chord as the reader remembers that part of the time their lives of hedonism and natural appreciation are achieved through the exploitation of unknowing home-owners; there are moments where the group are startled out of their care-free adventures by the sharp encroaching threat of discovery.

The group's dabbling with the social philosophies of freemasonry and other similar dogma is partly serious, partly superficial, much of their allure to Elen is this strange commitment that revolves around the central ring-leader, Luka. The group's treatment of Elen and other events in the book epitomised the combination of wealth, privilege, and a selfish desire to live according to whims and beliefs that others literally cannot afford - there is a deep and chilling readiness within certain privileged people to use and discard people for their entertainment for as long as they deem it worthwhile. For Elen, this is her real life, and for the group this is a past-time that can be picked up and dropped, as easily as the people they encounter. The brief mentions of their interaction with other strangers like the Californian influencers highlights their brief but intense delight at encountering 'interesting' people, their fascination with such quaint figures almost dehumanising and condescending though subtle. Elen's despair having lost a sense of meaning to her life with practically no support network is precisely the gap that allows the group to charm her into their escapades.

I found that the last third of the novel rushed a little for me, everything leading to the finale felt like it fell into place rather hurriedly although I appreciate that this in part acts in service to the actions of the plot and the characters. When thinking about the novel a little more interrogatively I feel a slight sense that there is a little bit missing to its depth, like it's not so sure exactly what it's trying to say but I found this very entertaining nonetheless and will definitely be on the look-out for further writing from Lewis in the future.

Opening in Oregon, Winter Animals sees thirty-six-year-old Elen, evicted from the house she shared with her husband after their break-up, taken up by four young British people, whose only object in life seems to be skiing and enjoying themselves. Seduced by their shiny confidence, she agrees to join them in their latest squat, an abandoned ski resort above the small town of Bend where she’s lived for fifteen years. Elen assumes her customary position as an outsider, observing these four who she thinks of as kids infantilised by their privilege and wealth. She pays for nothing, skis every day, falls a little in love with the beautiful Lyn, listens to George’s joshing, tries to ease Clover’s climate anxiety, knowing that all of this will likely come to an end soon.
Lewis unfolds her story from Elen’s perspective, often perplexed by quite why she’s been picked out to join this group of ski bums whose way of life has been cobbled together by Luka, their tacitly acknowledged leader, from the writings of a nineteenth century French philosopher. The narrative can be confusing, deliberately so, I think, the line between dreams and reality occasionally blurred. Elen’s time with the ‘teenagers’ as she thinks of them seems to bring her back to her younger self and a better understanding, a holiday from her life as a housewife from which it’s time for her to sober up. Things take a dark turn after a day spent on the slopes tripping on acid followed by the discovery of a trauma in Luka’s past. A novel I found myself absorbed in as I read it, but much is left unresolved by the end, some of it frustratingly so