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serendipitysbooks's review
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
Echolalia is an Australian novel told in two interleaved timelines - Before and After. It does take some time for the two to come together, fully revealing exactly what happened, why and its subsequent impact. The patient reader is rewarded with a powerful story about maternal mental health, ableism, patriarchy, and class with a strong climate change thread woven in. Some charcters will infuriate you; others will break your heart but they all contribute to an unforgettable novel, one that will leave you heartsore.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Child death, Gaslighting, and Mental illness
Moderate: Addiction
llbel123's review
4.0
3.5 stars to be honest. Beautifully written and certainly builds to a crescendo but I agree with another review which suggested it could have done with a good edit. The author would have done well in removing some of the earlier ‘before’ chapters which served only to confuse rather than contextualise as well as deepening some of the supporting characters- what was Pat’s childhood trauma that is elusively referred to? And what was the point of the chapters from Robert and Shane’s point of view if the reader never really gets any closure or insight into them at the end?
leemac027's review
4.0
This book is so fascinating I hoovered it up in just over a day!
It is written in both the 'Before' and the 'After' and it took me a little while to come to grips with the chapters flipping between, but once that settled I was drawn in to the life of Emma.
Emma Cormac is perfect - well at least the world she inhabits thinks she is. She has married into a wealthy and prominent family whose business interests are in development and their business approach results in them getting what they want no matter how they get it.
The family is dominated by the matriarch, Pat, a very strong and opinionated woman who looks down her nose at Emma for any sign that she is not representing the family brand as she should. But Emma is struggling. After her first child Clem is born, all is well - the house perfect, the décor immaculate, the kid fine, the social circle maintained.
Arthur, her second child, brings challenges as he is non-verbal. Emma feels a huge connection to Arthur but also the guilt of being responsible for his condition. Then along comes baby number three, Robbie - a big, demanding boy who looks perfect but Emma is completely distanced from him.
How can she continue to be the perfect wife, fitting in to the demands of this prominent family, raising the kids while feeling like she is drifting away unable to cope.
There are so many issues raised in this book: post-natal depression, anxiety, grief, power, powerlessness, greed, status, violence. All of these weave in and out of the narrative and impact each character.
A riveting read.
It is written in both the 'Before' and the 'After' and it took me a little while to come to grips with the chapters flipping between, but once that settled I was drawn in to the life of Emma.
Emma Cormac is perfect - well at least the world she inhabits thinks she is. She has married into a wealthy and prominent family whose business interests are in development and their business approach results in them getting what they want no matter how they get it.
The family is dominated by the matriarch, Pat, a very strong and opinionated woman who looks down her nose at Emma for any sign that she is not representing the family brand as she should. But Emma is struggling. After her first child Clem is born, all is well - the house perfect, the décor immaculate, the kid fine, the social circle maintained.
Arthur, her second child, brings challenges as he is non-verbal. Emma feels a huge connection to Arthur but also the guilt of being responsible for his condition. Then along comes baby number three, Robbie - a big, demanding boy who looks perfect but Emma is completely distanced from him.
How can she continue to be the perfect wife, fitting in to the demands of this prominent family, raising the kids while feeling like she is drifting away unable to cope.
There are so many issues raised in this book: post-natal depression, anxiety, grief, power, powerlessness, greed, status, violence. All of these weave in and out of the narrative and impact each character.
A riveting read.
rebeccalollback's review
challenging
dark
emotional
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
jaclyn_sixminutesforme's review
4.0
“Echolalia is a horror story, although it is not billed as one (that’s part of the horror).” - @_declanfry review of ECHOLALIA by Briohny Doyle in @sydneymorningherald had me sold!
I listened to the audiobook in my own sleep-deprived fugue, in lockdown nonetheless. There’s a way I’m connecting to stories now that feels more intense, and none feel more immediate than those with a domestic setting tapping into the darkness that can lurk in that space. I found the suburban idyll of sorts that Doyle depicts an incredibly effective setting for suspending expectations and turning the notch on these horror elements that Fry so deftly articulates (these sorts of developments always make me think about Levittown - well worth a google if you’ve not come across before!). I also love narratives that explore motherhood with such nuance and complexity, particularly experiences postpartum that look at *not* connecting. (@polyreader not sure if you’ve read this yet but I’d love to hear your take on this book!)
I’ll revisit in print form soon as I think the dual timelines were perhaps trickier for me to appreciate fully just listening on audio (which says more about my own reading comprehension than any failing of the book, to be clear)
I listened to the audiobook in my own sleep-deprived fugue, in lockdown nonetheless. There’s a way I’m connecting to stories now that feels more intense, and none feel more immediate than those with a domestic setting tapping into the darkness that can lurk in that space. I found the suburban idyll of sorts that Doyle depicts an incredibly effective setting for suspending expectations and turning the notch on these horror elements that Fry so deftly articulates (these sorts of developments always make me think about Levittown - well worth a google if you’ve not come across before!). I also love narratives that explore motherhood with such nuance and complexity, particularly experiences postpartum that look at *not* connecting. (@polyreader not sure if you’ve read this yet but I’d love to hear your take on this book!)
I’ll revisit in print form soon as I think the dual timelines were perhaps trickier for me to appreciate fully just listening on audio (which says more about my own reading comprehension than any failing of the book, to be clear)
tasmanian_bibliophile's review
4.0
‘It would be easy not to notice him.’
There are two parts to this story, separated by a tragedy. Before the tragedy, Emma Cormac is struggling. She has married into a wealthy, privileged family, and lives in a palatial new home in outer suburban Australia. But she is undermined by her formidable mother-in-law, Pat Cormac, and is barely struggling with her three young children. Clem is four, a wilful child who mimics her grandmother. Arthur, who is almost three, has a genetic disorder. Emma is protective of him, but it is her perfect baby, Robbie, that the Cormac family sees as being their future. Robbie is a demanding baby, wanting more than Emma can give.
And just outside the window, the lake is evaporating, the birds are disappearing, and the Cormac family buys up land to develop into cheap housing. One night, Emma leaves baby Robbie alone by the lake. By the time he is found, it is too late to save him.
Afterwards, some years later, the summers are even hotter. The Cormac name no longer has the power it once held, and Arthur has made a name for himself overseas. Clem is now an artist, haunted by the past and obsessively revisiting it. And a nameless woman is released from state care. Hers is a life governed by the routine of a twelve-step program, lived one day at a time. How can she have any future when Robbie did not?
What a bleak story this is. The once mighty Cormac family fragmented, as though the death of baby Robbie robbed them of all ambition and the need to take any responsibility. Climate change continues and the natural environment suffers. And the nameless woman must live with all the consequences, not just the results of her own actions. How, where, and when will it end?
This novel haunts me. This is partly because of what happened to baby Robbie but also because there is no neat resolution. We are left, as is the world, in an uneasy suspense. Existence continues, but life is constrained.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
There are two parts to this story, separated by a tragedy. Before the tragedy, Emma Cormac is struggling. She has married into a wealthy, privileged family, and lives in a palatial new home in outer suburban Australia. But she is undermined by her formidable mother-in-law, Pat Cormac, and is barely struggling with her three young children. Clem is four, a wilful child who mimics her grandmother. Arthur, who is almost three, has a genetic disorder. Emma is protective of him, but it is her perfect baby, Robbie, that the Cormac family sees as being their future. Robbie is a demanding baby, wanting more than Emma can give.
And just outside the window, the lake is evaporating, the birds are disappearing, and the Cormac family buys up land to develop into cheap housing. One night, Emma leaves baby Robbie alone by the lake. By the time he is found, it is too late to save him.
Afterwards, some years later, the summers are even hotter. The Cormac name no longer has the power it once held, and Arthur has made a name for himself overseas. Clem is now an artist, haunted by the past and obsessively revisiting it. And a nameless woman is released from state care. Hers is a life governed by the routine of a twelve-step program, lived one day at a time. How can she have any future when Robbie did not?
What a bleak story this is. The once mighty Cormac family fragmented, as though the death of baby Robbie robbed them of all ambition and the need to take any responsibility. Climate change continues and the natural environment suffers. And the nameless woman must live with all the consequences, not just the results of her own actions. How, where, and when will it end?
This novel haunts me. This is partly because of what happened to baby Robbie but also because there is no neat resolution. We are left, as is the world, in an uneasy suspense. Existence continues, but life is constrained.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
steph_84's review
5.0
If I remember correctly from her previous work, Briohny Doyle has a PhD in dystopian fiction. This is evident in the dystopia explored in Echolalia but it isn’t futuristic science fiction, it’s the horror of reality in Australian suburbia. There’s an eerie sense of disorientation in this book, as with Doyle’s previous novel, making it difficult to even tell where and when the story is set until about halfway through when we get enough cultural references to ground it in about 2013, in a fictional town in the goldfields region 2 hours northwest of Melbourne. Even then, I don’t think Melbourne is named, suggesting that the story is meant to be somewhat ungrounded, and Emma could be anyone.
It’s a domestic thriller and scarily realistic. Even if we don’t have a Robert or Shane in our own families, every young woman in the western world would know men like them as a sleazy guy from a bar or a friend’s macho boyfriend. The kids are skilfully written and individual characters in their own right, where in other books they’d just be a plot device. I would have liked to better understand Emma, but perhaps what we saw was that she didn’t understand herself. Similarly I would have liked more clarity around the fire but it’s not Doyle’s style to overburden a point.
This is the fourth Australian book I’ve read in the last year with a focus on postnatal mental health (the others being Into the Fire by Sonia Orchid, The Last Anniversary by Lianne Moriarty and Sad Mum Lady by Ashe Davenport) and perhaps I’ve just shifted into the demographic but I’m glad to see the stories told in a nuanced non-sensationalist way, confronting though they may be.
It’s a domestic thriller and scarily realistic. Even if we don’t have a Robert or Shane in our own families, every young woman in the western world would know men like them as a sleazy guy from a bar or a friend’s macho boyfriend. The kids are skilfully written and individual characters in their own right, where in other books they’d just be a plot device. I would have liked to better understand Emma, but perhaps what we saw was that she didn’t understand herself. Similarly I would have liked more clarity around the fire but it’s not Doyle’s style to overburden a point.
This is the fourth Australian book I’ve read in the last year with a focus on postnatal mental health (the others being Into the Fire by Sonia Orchid, The Last Anniversary by Lianne Moriarty and Sad Mum Lady by Ashe Davenport) and perhaps I’ve just shifted into the demographic but I’m glad to see the stories told in a nuanced non-sensationalist way, confronting though they may be.
shelleyrae's review
4.0
I’m not sure how best to describe Echolalia by Briohny Doyle, perhaps as a literary domestic suspense. Set in an outer suburban Australia the timeline of Echolalia shifts ‘Before’ and ‘After’ the night Emma Cormac left her infant son alone by a dried up lake.
In the before, Emma is married to Robert Cormac, the princely only son of local wealthy construction developers, and installed in the expansive home he built for them. It’s the stuff of fairytales for Emma, who is from a far less affluent background, which only begins to sour with the birth of their second child, a son who is quickly diagnosed with a hereditary disorder, and viewed as a blot on the Cormac family name. Seeking redemption for what is perceived as her failure to provide a suitable heir, barely eighteen months later Emma presents her husband wth a healthy son, Robbie.
After, Emma’s children, Clem and Arthur, are young adults who have not seen their mother since the night baby Robbie died. While Arthur has made a life for himself far from the influence of the Cormac’s, Clem remains haunted by all she does not know.
Echolalia is a bleak tale, commenting on climate change, capitalism, class, privilege, legacy, patriarchy, trauma and motherhood. I found the ‘Before’ to be more compelling than the ‘After’, which feels somewhat unresolved.
Emma’s emotions are viscerally portrayed as she becomes increasingly fragile, both emotionally and physically. Her sense of self already vague, it disintegrates under the expectations of the family she has into married to. Drifting unheeded towards the inevitable tragedy, it’s clear Emma is suffering from post natal depression which tips into psychosis.
In their relationship with Emma, while her husband Robert is perhaps at best myopic, his mother Pat is wilfully insensitive, and Robert’s cousin, Shane, is pointedly cruel. These attitudes are also echoed in their business dealings as the wield their wealth and power in ways which are both careless and deliberate. In the aftermath the Cormac’s accept no responsibility, Emma and the loss of Robbie, a convenient scapegoat for everything that then befalls them.
With its crisp and evocative prose, Echolalia is a raw, poignant and unsettling novel that left me uncomfortable, but thoughtful.
In the before, Emma is married to Robert Cormac, the princely only son of local wealthy construction developers, and installed in the expansive home he built for them. It’s the stuff of fairytales for Emma, who is from a far less affluent background, which only begins to sour with the birth of their second child, a son who is quickly diagnosed with a hereditary disorder, and viewed as a blot on the Cormac family name. Seeking redemption for what is perceived as her failure to provide a suitable heir, barely eighteen months later Emma presents her husband wth a healthy son, Robbie.
After, Emma’s children, Clem and Arthur, are young adults who have not seen their mother since the night baby Robbie died. While Arthur has made a life for himself far from the influence of the Cormac’s, Clem remains haunted by all she does not know.
Echolalia is a bleak tale, commenting on climate change, capitalism, class, privilege, legacy, patriarchy, trauma and motherhood. I found the ‘Before’ to be more compelling than the ‘After’, which feels somewhat unresolved.
Emma’s emotions are viscerally portrayed as she becomes increasingly fragile, both emotionally and physically. Her sense of self already vague, it disintegrates under the expectations of the family she has into married to. Drifting unheeded towards the inevitable tragedy, it’s clear Emma is suffering from post natal depression which tips into psychosis.
In their relationship with Emma, while her husband Robert is perhaps at best myopic, his mother Pat is wilfully insensitive, and Robert’s cousin, Shane, is pointedly cruel. These attitudes are also echoed in their business dealings as the wield their wealth and power in ways which are both careless and deliberate. In the aftermath the Cormac’s accept no responsibility, Emma and the loss of Robbie, a convenient scapegoat for everything that then befalls them.
With its crisp and evocative prose, Echolalia is a raw, poignant and unsettling novel that left me uncomfortable, but thoughtful.
maree_k's review
challenging
dark
emotional
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
Content Warnings
Moderate: Mental illness and Child death
curatoriallyyours's review
challenging
dark
mysterious
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
This was a hard book to get into at first, as we spend time in the head of Emma, mother of three, who is having a very rough time with her mental health and her life circumstances. After a few chapters, we switch narrators and from then on I did not want to put the book down. Essentially, we know from the beginning of the book that baby Robbie is left outside and he dies. The circumstances that lead up to this event are revealed slowly throughout almost the whole book. Briohny Doyle’s writing is impeccable.