Beautiful Forms

When a routine fertility test calls the nature of their marriage into question, a husband and wife discover what it would cost to inhabit a familiar love made strange.

After years of infertility, Emily Vogel, an ornithologist at Seattle’s Burke Museum, and her husband Adam, a sculptor turned university professor, face a medical discovery that retrospectively recasts the foundation of their marriage. For Emily, the revelation alters who they are — in themselves and to each other — while Adam maintains his belief that identity is something chosen, not merely inherited. 

As Emily seeks refuge in the museum’s collections, cataloguing anomalous bird specimens, Adam retreats into art and the unconventional family that raised him, trusting that care and attention can preserve the relationship. As each struggles toward a choice they can live with, other perspectives—students, coworkers, strangers, kin—challenge the couple’s increasingly diverging beliefs about belonging, responsibility, and desire. In the end, each must ask what they owe to the other when they can no longer agree on what their love means.

“Emily doesn’t respond, not to keep the answer secret, but because she doesn’t have one. She is calmer than she was, that’s something. Would she call it better? Maybe to feel better is to be a better feeler—to feel more, not less. Maybe she is feeling deeply, but she’s numb to it. Like the blood flow in her arms, sensation could come flooding back at any moment. Would that be better?”

— Bethany Hudson, Beautiful Forms

“She rests her head against his arm. He lays his cheek down on her hair. Unconsciously, their breathing synchronizes. When they hear the door open, they break apart.”

— Bethany Hudson, Beautiful Forms

“How does Emily sleep when he isn’t there? The question leaves a blank: a white untouched sheet where her body should be. To occupy this void, he thinks of Sophie Calle’s photographs—not as they appear in the book he assigns to his first-year grad students, but as he once viewed them on the walls of MoMA: sleepers in a Paris bed, alone or coupled, clothed or nude, one smoking a cigarette, one drinking tea; his favorites are the ones she captured sleeping. Sometimes just a foot. Or a sliver of face. One woman had the most serene expression.”

— Bethany Hudson, Beautiful Forms