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A review by janeylouthecat
Nightingale Point by Luan Goldie
4.0
This was, for me, a surprise entry on the longlist for the Women’s Prize for Fiction – I hadn’t heard of it before the longlist was announced. It is Luan Goldie’s debut novel, although she has previously won awards for her short stories. The book didn’t make the shortlist, but I heard various people say that it was excellent, so I picked up a copy.
The book centres around a small cast of characters who are all living in Nightingale Point, a London tower block, in 1996.
There is Mary, the Filipino nurse who is awaiting the arrival of her nomadic husband, David, and feeling guilty about the secret she is keeping from him.
There are the brothers Malachi and Tristan, who Mary keeps an eye on because, since their Nan moved away, they only have each other: 21-year-old Malachi is broken-hearted after his split from Pamela, the girl who lives upstairs, and worried about his increasingly wayward younger brother. For his part, 15-year-old Tristan wishes that Malachi would stop moping about that girl, then things could go back to the way they used to be.
There is Pamela, who misses Malachi too, but who can’t get away from her super-strict Dad. He doesn’t want her dating anyone, but he especially doesn’t want her dating a black boy from the estate. He won’t let her go out, and when he leaves the flat, he locks her in.
And there is Elvis, who has learning disabilities and is very excited to be living in Nightingale Point, in his very own perfect flat. Even if his careworker, Lina, does sometimes get annoyed with him because he forgets things.
It is a sunny Saturday morning, the first May Bank Holiday weekend, and they are all going about their business when something extraordinary and catastrophic happens at Nightingale Point. They will not all survive, and those who do will see their lives change forever.
I found this really quite a powerful book – we see the disastrous event from the point of view of all these individuals, and they all react to what happens in different ways. Goldie draws her characters exceptionally well – they are all multi-layered and very believable – and somehow, these different perspectives, and the various ways in which these people experience pain, loss, grief and survivors’ guilt after the tragedy, really bring home what it must be like to be caught up in an incident of this magnitude.
I particularly like the fact that we experience part of the story through the eyes of a mentally disabled man, Elvis – his childlike perspective, and his unique way of rationalising things, is really impactful in places. His appreciation for the little things in life is also particularly poignant, given what happens. I thought it was a moving and sensitive portrayal of disability.
I really liked all the characters, especially Tristan, who goes on the biggest journey over the course of the book. I liked the relationships between them, too, and how they alter after the tragedy. The importance of community and looking out for one another is a really strong theme in this book, which I found pertinent given that the current situation (the Corona-coaster, as I recently heard it described, which I guess is a tragedy of a different kind) has reinforced a sense of community for many people. The book also raises the issue of what we tell our loved ones, and what we don’t, and how there are times when not telling the truth, or not telling the full story, might be for the best.
The obvious parallel for UK readers is the Grenfell Tower fire of 2017, which claimed the lives of 72 people and destroyed the homes of hundreds of others. Goldie’s principal inspiration was in fact a similar disaster which took place in Amsterdam in 1992, but she says that the book is also a tribute to the people of Grenfell. Certainly the media coverage, the undertones of race and class, and the anger felt in the aftermath which arise in Nightingale Point are very reminiscent of what happened at Grenfell. In fact, I would have liked it if there had been more exploration of the latter issue in particular – anger and disappointment at the way victims are treated in terms of rehousing etc. are hinted it, but not really discussed in depth.
I think that this was definitely worthy of a place on the Women’s Prize longlist. I’m not too surprised it wasn’t on the shortlist, as there are some amazing books in contention this year, but this is a powerful, memorable, emotional debut and I am looking forward to reading Luan Goldie’s next book, Homecoming.
The book centres around a small cast of characters who are all living in Nightingale Point, a London tower block, in 1996.
There is Mary, the Filipino nurse who is awaiting the arrival of her nomadic husband, David, and feeling guilty about the secret she is keeping from him.
There are the brothers Malachi and Tristan, who Mary keeps an eye on because, since their Nan moved away, they only have each other: 21-year-old Malachi is broken-hearted after his split from Pamela, the girl who lives upstairs, and worried about his increasingly wayward younger brother. For his part, 15-year-old Tristan wishes that Malachi would stop moping about that girl, then things could go back to the way they used to be.
There is Pamela, who misses Malachi too, but who can’t get away from her super-strict Dad. He doesn’t want her dating anyone, but he especially doesn’t want her dating a black boy from the estate. He won’t let her go out, and when he leaves the flat, he locks her in.
And there is Elvis, who has learning disabilities and is very excited to be living in Nightingale Point, in his very own perfect flat. Even if his careworker, Lina, does sometimes get annoyed with him because he forgets things.
It is a sunny Saturday morning, the first May Bank Holiday weekend, and they are all going about their business when something extraordinary and catastrophic happens at Nightingale Point. They will not all survive, and those who do will see their lives change forever.
I found this really quite a powerful book – we see the disastrous event from the point of view of all these individuals, and they all react to what happens in different ways. Goldie draws her characters exceptionally well – they are all multi-layered and very believable – and somehow, these different perspectives, and the various ways in which these people experience pain, loss, grief and survivors’ guilt after the tragedy, really bring home what it must be like to be caught up in an incident of this magnitude.
I particularly like the fact that we experience part of the story through the eyes of a mentally disabled man, Elvis – his childlike perspective, and his unique way of rationalising things, is really impactful in places. His appreciation for the little things in life is also particularly poignant, given what happens. I thought it was a moving and sensitive portrayal of disability.
I really liked all the characters, especially Tristan, who goes on the biggest journey over the course of the book. I liked the relationships between them, too, and how they alter after the tragedy. The importance of community and looking out for one another is a really strong theme in this book, which I found pertinent given that the current situation (the Corona-coaster, as I recently heard it described, which I guess is a tragedy of a different kind) has reinforced a sense of community for many people. The book also raises the issue of what we tell our loved ones, and what we don’t, and how there are times when not telling the truth, or not telling the full story, might be for the best.
The obvious parallel for UK readers is the Grenfell Tower fire of 2017, which claimed the lives of 72 people and destroyed the homes of hundreds of others. Goldie’s principal inspiration was in fact a similar disaster which took place in Amsterdam in 1992, but she says that the book is also a tribute to the people of Grenfell. Certainly the media coverage, the undertones of race and class, and the anger felt in the aftermath which arise in Nightingale Point are very reminiscent of what happened at Grenfell. In fact, I would have liked it if there had been more exploration of the latter issue in particular – anger and disappointment at the way victims are treated in terms of rehousing etc. are hinted it, but not really discussed in depth.
I think that this was definitely worthy of a place on the Women’s Prize longlist. I’m not too surprised it wasn’t on the shortlist, as there are some amazing books in contention this year, but this is a powerful, memorable, emotional debut and I am looking forward to reading Luan Goldie’s next book, Homecoming.