A review by erinstewart
The Tidal Zone by Sarah Moss

5.0

This book is very good. Miriam is a fifteen year-old girl who collapses at school and is lucky to have lived. Told from the perspective of her father, Adam, at its base the book is about dealing with worry and uncertainty about the people you love, and the looming threat of death. Today, he points out, many of us are able to ignore worries about survival. We live in safe places and have relatively easy access to medical care (I say 'relatively easy', the book details the ingrained frustrations of Britain's National Health Service), adequate nutrition, and education. But most of the world, most of the time, has had to face suffering and death with little pause. In some sense, Miriam's health crisis compels Adam to commune with his ancestors - people who were vigilant about keeping themselves and their children safe, people who survived the Halocaust - and while he is fearful, he also forges forwards in the understanding that you want doubt. You don't want a clear story of the future. "You think you want an ending but you don't. You want life. You want disorder and ignorance and uncertainty."

Other stories are weaved into the main narrative, stories about Adam's father, and stories about the Coventry Cathedral. Both hold the common theme of redefining the present while the past looks over you. There is an intellectuality about the book which comes into fore in these interludes. And overall it is a very clever, literary book with an academic as the narrator, but it is also accessible, with short chapters with a relateable voice.

More than anything though, I wholeheartedly recommend this book because it's funny, its dark humor engages with politics, feminism, academia, the medical system, and household arrangements (while Adam teaches and writes, he is primarily a stay-at-home father). It feels contemporary even though it taps into ancient fears.

The Tidal Zone has some similarities with writing by authors such as A.M. Holmes (but less odd), and Christos Tsolkas (but much less graphic). I was also reminded of Helen McDonald's H is for Hawk for its attention to the British landscape and for its weaving of the historical and contemporary.