If anything, he notices the things Tova has spent years avoiding.
That makes their relationship much more interesting.
Tova's grief is rarely dramatic. She does not spend every chapter thinking about loss or explaining how lonely she feels. Instead, it shows up in habits. In the way she keeps working. In what she does not talk about. In how reluctant she is to become dependent on anyone.
That restraint worked for me because grief often does become ordinary after enough time. It can sit beside grocery shopping, work schedules, small conversations, and all the other things a person still has to do.
The novel becomes broader when Cameron enters the story. He is younger, directionless, and carrying his own questions about family. It does not take very long to suspect that his story and Tova's will eventually connect.
That is probably the book's biggest weakness.
The mystery is gentle rather than difficult, and some of the coincidences required to bring everyone together are huge. There were moments when I could see the machinery underneath the story a little too clearly. A character arrives at exactly the right place. Someone knows exactly the piece of information another person needs. Another connection clicks into place.
After a while, you stop wondering whether the characters are connected and start waiting for them to realize it themselves.
Strangely, I did not mind as much as I normally would.
The mystery was never really what kept me reading. I wanted to see what the truth would do to these people once they finally understood it.
The book is especially good with lonely characters who are not necessarily good at admitting they are lonely. Tova has spent years protecting herself through independence. Cameron often covers uncertainty with frustration. Even some of the smaller characters have their own routines and private disappointments.
Marcellus, meanwhile, watches all of them with the patience of someone who cannot understand why humans make simple things so complicated.
His sections could easily have become gimmicky. They never quite did for me.
Part of that is the voice. He is funny, but there is sadness underneath his humor too. He understands that his own life is limited, and that gives his interest in Tova a different weight. He cannot fix everything for her. He can only notice what others have missed and push things slightly in the right direction.
I liked that limitation.
Not every part of the book receives the same care, though. Some side stories feel more functional than lived-in, and a few emotional developments happen quickly once the plot needs them to. The later sections also rely heavily on coincidence, which makes the resolution feel neater than the earlier grief sometimes deserves.
But the ending did not leave me with the feeling that Tova's losses had somehow been erased.
That matters.
The book understands that finding family does not cancel the family you lost. Making a new connection does not rewrite old grief. It simply gives someone another reason to keep moving.
That is where Remarkably Bright Creatures worked best for me. Beneath the octopus, the mystery, and the warmer moments, it is really about people who have become accustomed to being alone and slowly discover that independence and isolation are not quite the same thing.
Book Summary
Tova Sullivan, a widowed woman who cleans at a small aquarium, has built her life around routines. Then there is Marcellus, a giant Pacific octopus who is far more observant than the humans around him give him credit for. As Tova grows closer to him, Marcellus begins to notice a connection between her past and a new employee at the aquarium.
What gives Remarkably Bright Creatures its charm is the contrast between Tova's quiet grief and Marcellus's dry, slightly superior observations about human behavior. The story deals with loss, loneliness, aging, family, memory, and the strange ways people find their way back to one another. It is warm without pretending that grief disappears just because something hopeful happens.
What I Liked
Marcellus was easily my favorite part of the book. His chapters are funny without turning him into a joke, and his view of humans gives the story some lightness when Tova's sections become heavier. I also liked how much of Tova's grief is shown through routine rather than explained directly. She cleans, works, keeps moving, and rarely says exactly what she is carrying.
The aquarium is a good setting for that kind of story. It gives Tova somewhere familiar and predictable while also putting her beside Marcellus, a creature who notices more than most people do. I also enjoyed watching the separate characters gradually move toward one another. The connections are not especially difficult to predict, but I still cared about seeing them happen.
What Could Be Better
The coincidences are hard to ignore. Several important pieces of the story line up so neatly that I occasionally felt the author arranging everyone into position rather than watching the characters arrive there naturally.
I also thought some of the side plots were much thinner than Tova's story, and the central mystery became fairly easy to solve long before the characters caught up with it. That did not ruin the book for me because I was more interested in the relationships than the mystery itself, but it took away some of the suspense.
Context Behind the Book
Shelby Van Pelt's debut became popular for combining an older protagonist, an observant octopus, grief, found family, and an accessible mystery.
