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126 reviews
White City by Kevin Power
adventurous
emotional
funny
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
“Sap, n. Hiberno-English slang. A gauche person; one ungifted with social nous. Also a dupe or mark. The butt of the joke. That one person at the party who just doesn’t get it and never will.”
A post Celtic Tiger story where the generation of unscrupulous profiteers that wreaked havoc on the Irish economy is still around and well. When fathers are sharks, members of a privileged, self-assured clique that has taken full advantage of the economic boom and various loopholes to cunningly divert money for personal enrichment, what are their children going to be like?
We are in South Dublin, an area partly associated with privilege and status. In a recent conversation with fellow Irish writer Niamh Campbell, Kevin Power has explained that he knows this world very well and has remarked that in Ireland class, privilege and social divisions are stark realities and that some structures and places still hold and have a meaning for many.
By reading this riveting novel, one actually gets the impression of cliquey places where privilege replicates itself, where you can make the right connections, of schools where pupils – future leaders -- forge long-lasting friendships and future alliances. This is the picture emerging in White City and the milieu that Kevin Power continues to scrutinize after his successful debut Bad Day in Blackrock. While his first novel was about murder case involving students connected with fictional Brookfield College (albeit loosely inspired by true events), in White City the Lads, former members of the rugby team, have grown up and have started moving their first steps in the world: a world “networked, brainless, awed by money, superdense with artificial pleasures, rigged from above in their favour.”
We first meet 27-year-old Ben in a rehab where he is processing all that brought him there, which he does by writing an angry, self-deprecating confession (Dostroyevsky-style: it is not a coincidence that we find him reading Notes from the Underground at the beginning), with his psychiatrist nagging him and struggling to make him accept responsibility for his actions. We learn that his father is a wealthy investment banker investigated for a major fraud and the family estate has been confiscated. Ejected from a world of privilege and left to his own devices, with an alcoholic mother and fraudulent father as a role model, he drops out of his Ph.D. and gets a) into drugs, b) into a relationship he navigates as if in a fog and c) into a sketchy investment scheme put together by the Lads and their wealthy fathers, a big deal he prefers to honest, low-paying jobs with a view to get his finances sorted. This deal takes them to the Balkans, where ruthless individuals are speculating on the ruins of ex-Yugoslavia. Ben is an interesting character: clueless, arrogant, selfish, a mirror image of those who surround him and a puppet in their hands. He is struggling to take charge of his life, let alone take a moral stance. Ben’s voice is truly engaging, particularly the use the author makes of the distance between the Ben who is writing his memoir, his resistance and his riveting commentary, and the Ben at the time of the facts: Kevin Power’s controlled use of language, humour and irony is excellent, and this allows him to deliver a witty social satire that is biting, ferociously funny and spot-on.
White City is an indictment of Celtic Tiger Ireland’s corrupt establishment and an unflinching portrait of a weak, hyper-protected generation that is utterly unprepared for the responsibilities of life because it has always had it all. And if you think you know where the story is heading (at the beginning I thought this would be more predictable), Kevin Power will baffle your expectations in unique ways. At 450+ pages the novel feels a bit lengthy at times, but still a very engaging, enjoyable read.
I am grateful to the publisher for an ARC of this book via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. (
A post Celtic Tiger story where the generation of unscrupulous profiteers that wreaked havoc on the Irish economy is still around and well. When fathers are sharks, members of a privileged, self-assured clique that has taken full advantage of the economic boom and various loopholes to cunningly divert money for personal enrichment, what are their children going to be like?
We are in South Dublin, an area partly associated with privilege and status. In a recent conversation with fellow Irish writer Niamh Campbell, Kevin Power has explained that he knows this world very well and has remarked that in Ireland class, privilege and social divisions are stark realities and that some structures and places still hold and have a meaning for many.
By reading this riveting novel, one actually gets the impression of cliquey places where privilege replicates itself, where you can make the right connections, of schools where pupils – future leaders -- forge long-lasting friendships and future alliances. This is the picture emerging in White City and the milieu that Kevin Power continues to scrutinize after his successful debut Bad Day in Blackrock. While his first novel was about murder case involving students connected with fictional Brookfield College (albeit loosely inspired by true events), in White City the Lads, former members of the rugby team, have grown up and have started moving their first steps in the world: a world “networked, brainless, awed by money, superdense with artificial pleasures, rigged from above in their favour.”
We first meet 27-year-old Ben in a rehab where he is processing all that brought him there, which he does by writing an angry, self-deprecating confession (Dostroyevsky-style: it is not a coincidence that we find him reading Notes from the Underground at the beginning), with his psychiatrist nagging him and struggling to make him accept responsibility for his actions. We learn that his father is a wealthy investment banker investigated for a major fraud and the family estate has been confiscated. Ejected from a world of privilege and left to his own devices, with an alcoholic mother and fraudulent father as a role model, he drops out of his Ph.D. and gets a) into drugs, b) into a relationship he navigates as if in a fog and c) into a sketchy investment scheme put together by the Lads and their wealthy fathers, a big deal he prefers to honest, low-paying jobs with a view to get his finances sorted. This deal takes them to the Balkans, where ruthless individuals are speculating on the ruins of ex-Yugoslavia. Ben is an interesting character: clueless, arrogant, selfish, a mirror image of those who surround him and a puppet in their hands. He is struggling to take charge of his life, let alone take a moral stance. Ben’s voice is truly engaging, particularly the use the author makes of the distance between the Ben who is writing his memoir, his resistance and his riveting commentary, and the Ben at the time of the facts: Kevin Power’s controlled use of language, humour and irony is excellent, and this allows him to deliver a witty social satire that is biting, ferociously funny and spot-on.
White City is an indictment of Celtic Tiger Ireland’s corrupt establishment and an unflinching portrait of a weak, hyper-protected generation that is utterly unprepared for the responsibilities of life because it has always had it all. And if you think you know where the story is heading (at the beginning I thought this would be more predictable), Kevin Power will baffle your expectations in unique ways. At 450+ pages the novel feels a bit lengthy at times, but still a very engaging, enjoyable read.
I am grateful to the publisher for an ARC of this book via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. (
The Manningtree Witches by A.K. Blakemore
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
sad
tense
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
A dark account of the Manningtree witch trials
As I approached The Manningtree Witches, I was wondering how it would be different from other novels that fictionalize witch trials as, after all, the plot is often very similar. I can gladly say this novel did not disappoint me.
The Manningtree Witches, which relies on historical characters and records, focuses on the first victims of the massive witch hunts that took place in Essex during the English Civil War and claimed up to 300 lives. We are in Manningtree during the English Civil War, precisely in the period 1645-1647, and from the very start we get glimpses of the effects of war, such hunger and poverty, particularly on widowed or defenseless women. The Puritan influence in the area is strong, but as the self-appointed Witchfinder General Matthew Hopkins, a somber, pious figure dressed in black, settles in Manningtree bringing an atmosphere of menace and suspicion to the place, his search for sinfulness gives a pretext to mount accusations toward a group of women living on the fringes of society, their dirty rags and deformed bodies in sharp contrast with Puritan cleanliness and their curses, drunken “anarchic laughter” and bawdy language as their only weapon.
Most characters are wonderfully complex: from the multi-faceted Witchfinder, half-opportunist half-believer for whom sexual excitement mingles with religious zeal, to the formidable cast of women. Among these, the focus is on the young Rebecca West, who is in love with the scribbler who catechizes her and whose point of view provides the most valuable insights into this world: as she ponders her place in society, her alleged sinfulness and marginality she fully understands what counts as holy, the equation between damnation and poverty and the way witchcraft can give women a language and an identity. For this reason, the novel is also a feminist study in character development and a quest for a place in the world and a language that differs from the pattern of violence and damnation that is handed down from mother to daughter (“the violence of my mother’s tale”).
Other than giving a voice to forgotten victims, the novel also successfully exposes the mechanisms of power formation, how the social tissue is weakened as mobs are manipulated, women are scapegoated and mothers and daughter are set against each other. It captures how witch hunts intersected with the historical climate and were exploited in the wider context to uphold and consolidate Puritan values and power.
When I started to read this novel, which I did without knowing anything about the author, my very first thought was that it must be written by a poet, as the prose is wonderfully dark, immersive, rich and mesmerizing. In many chapters the sensation of threat and menace was palpable, and I felt as if I was stepping into some Dutch painting and the painting was coming alive with its vibrant details, the rays of light and sombre shadows, the putrid smells, be it public house, dingy interior, church pew, or street. The command of archaic words and the colourful expressions woven in the scintillating dialogues makes for a wonderful reading experience. A highly recommended read, dark, tense, captivating and informative.
I am grateful to Netgalley and Granta for my ARC in exchange for an honest review (l
As I approached The Manningtree Witches, I was wondering how it would be different from other novels that fictionalize witch trials as, after all, the plot is often very similar. I can gladly say this novel did not disappoint me.
The Manningtree Witches, which relies on historical characters and records, focuses on the first victims of the massive witch hunts that took place in Essex during the English Civil War and claimed up to 300 lives. We are in Manningtree during the English Civil War, precisely in the period 1645-1647, and from the very start we get glimpses of the effects of war, such hunger and poverty, particularly on widowed or defenseless women. The Puritan influence in the area is strong, but as the self-appointed Witchfinder General Matthew Hopkins, a somber, pious figure dressed in black, settles in Manningtree bringing an atmosphere of menace and suspicion to the place, his search for sinfulness gives a pretext to mount accusations toward a group of women living on the fringes of society, their dirty rags and deformed bodies in sharp contrast with Puritan cleanliness and their curses, drunken “anarchic laughter” and bawdy language as their only weapon.
Most characters are wonderfully complex: from the multi-faceted Witchfinder, half-opportunist half-believer for whom sexual excitement mingles with religious zeal, to the formidable cast of women. Among these, the focus is on the young Rebecca West, who is in love with the scribbler who catechizes her and whose point of view provides the most valuable insights into this world: as she ponders her place in society, her alleged sinfulness and marginality she fully understands what counts as holy, the equation between damnation and poverty and the way witchcraft can give women a language and an identity. For this reason, the novel is also a feminist study in character development and a quest for a place in the world and a language that differs from the pattern of violence and damnation that is handed down from mother to daughter (“the violence of my mother’s tale”).
Other than giving a voice to forgotten victims, the novel also successfully exposes the mechanisms of power formation, how the social tissue is weakened as mobs are manipulated, women are scapegoated and mothers and daughter are set against each other. It captures how witch hunts intersected with the historical climate and were exploited in the wider context to uphold and consolidate Puritan values and power.
When I started to read this novel, which I did without knowing anything about the author, my very first thought was that it must be written by a poet, as the prose is wonderfully dark, immersive, rich and mesmerizing. In many chapters the sensation of threat and menace was palpable, and I felt as if I was stepping into some Dutch painting and the painting was coming alive with its vibrant details, the rays of light and sombre shadows, the putrid smells, be it public house, dingy interior, church pew, or street. The command of archaic words and the colourful expressions woven in the scintillating dialogues makes for a wonderful reading experience. A highly recommended read, dark, tense, captivating and informative.
I am grateful to Netgalley and Granta for my ARC in exchange for an honest review (l
Holding Her Breath by Eimear Ryan
4.0
Holding Her Breath is a debut novel by Eimear Ryan, co-editor of the well-respected Irish literary magazine Banshee. Beth Crowe is a national swimmer who had to drop out of school due to a personal crisis for a couple of years, and is now starting university at Trinity College. She feels a bit awkward in the new environment but she can count on her extrovert roommate Sabie. Beth is also the granddaughter of Benjamin Crowe, a famous poet who died in tragic circumstances before her birth, which puts her in the spotlight in her new academic environment. At the same time, she finds herself drawn toward an (engaged) post-doc lecturer who has a strong interest in Crowe’s poetry. Discussions about his grandfather’s poetry and mysterious death abound and, determined to understand more about him, Beth will delve into some documents in her grandma’s possession to discover family secrets that have long been buried.
This is a very readable, coming of age novel exploring conventionalism in Irish society, what keeps people together, relationships deemed illicit, including LGBTQ themes, pain and healing, and it does so through two different, nicely intertwined plots (illicit love affair and family secrets). Characters and situations are very relatable and though at times they are bit cliched and modelled on romance novels (the sassy roommate, the timid new student with the gorgeous swimmer body, the illicit romance with a good-looking tutor), the novel has more than that. The unravelling of the family secret was a very interesting interesting part.
All in all, this is a well-crafted novel and a very accessible book, written in a confident, clear style that makes it a widely ppealing read.
This is a very readable, coming of age novel exploring conventionalism in Irish society, what keeps people together, relationships deemed illicit, including LGBTQ themes, pain and healing, and it does so through two different, nicely intertwined plots (illicit love affair and family secrets). Characters and situations are very relatable and though at times they are bit cliched and modelled on romance novels (the sassy roommate, the timid new student with the gorgeous swimmer body, the illicit romance with a good-looking tutor), the novel has more than that. The unravelling of the family secret was a very interesting interesting part.
All in all, this is a well-crafted novel and a very accessible book, written in a confident, clear style that makes it a widely ppealing read.
Blue Postcards by Douglas Bruton
emotional
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
4.75
A charming and elegant novella in 500 postcard-sized paragraphs, each mentioning the word blue and featuring a blue object. Set in post WW2 Paris, it is not a properly a historical novel but it parly deals with the aftermath of the Nazi occupation. Blue is a thread that runs through the text, weaving a story that connects three narrative strands in a meaningful way.
We find a well-researched fictionalised account of Yves Klein’s career, his fascination with blue as the colour of spirituality and transcendence, his attempts to attain a stable, permanent blue that would not degrade (the famous Yves Klein Blue). This is a fascinating subplot, where Bruton shows Klein the man, the glamour, the gossip, the greatness and the white noise of life.
There are also those with little agency such as Henri, a Jewish tailor who counted Klein among his customers. He also holds on to a blue thread, the Tekhelet from Jewish culture associated with holiness. The two stories run eerily parallel, from their artistry to key moments. The correspondences make for an engaging, stimulating read that constantly generates new insights: namely, how we choose specific events over others, we memorialise beautiful lies and rewrite the past, the problem being that at times we choose to erase tragic histories and truths that should be remembered. And this is a timely issue.
A beautiful novella about memory, permanence, trauma, erasure and history. The writing is beautiful and evocative, giving the idea of old postcards.The surreal resurfacing of threads and objects throughout the text is delightfully fascinating. Experimental but not difficult or convoluted, the division in short alternating paragraphs makes for a propulsive read. Well crafted and accomplished.
We find a well-researched fictionalised account of Yves Klein’s career, his fascination with blue as the colour of spirituality and transcendence, his attempts to attain a stable, permanent blue that would not degrade (the famous Yves Klein Blue). This is a fascinating subplot, where Bruton shows Klein the man, the glamour, the gossip, the greatness and the white noise of life.
There are also those with little agency such as Henri, a Jewish tailor who counted Klein among his customers. He also holds on to a blue thread, the Tekhelet from Jewish culture associated with holiness. The two stories run eerily parallel, from their artistry to key moments. The correspondences make for an engaging, stimulating read that constantly generates new insights: namely, how we choose specific events over others, we memorialise beautiful lies and rewrite the past, the problem being that at times we choose to erase tragic histories and truths that should be remembered. And this is a timely issue.
A beautiful novella about memory, permanence, trauma, erasure and history. The writing is beautiful and evocative, giving the idea of old postcards.The surreal resurfacing of threads and objects throughout the text is delightfully fascinating. Experimental but not difficult or convoluted, the division in short alternating paragraphs makes for a propulsive read. Well crafted and accomplished.
Kings of a Dead World by Jamie Mollart
adventurous
dark
mysterious
tense
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
4.0
Kings of a Dead World is a thought-provoking, gripping piece of speculative fiction that is set in a dystopian future not too far from the present. All resources of the planet have been depleted, flooding has changed the coasts and Earth is overpopulated. As a consequence, the world’s powers have come up with technological solutions to periodically put people in Sleep mode not to consume more. Janitors are “supervisors” of individual cities: among their duties, they have to win Creds off each other -- which correspond to money for the people to buy what they need -- in trading sessions that remind of a mixture of the stock market and tactic games. New deities and collective rituals have been introduced, too. This world is monitored in Big Brother style and revolts cannot happen because the Janitors can put people to sleep with a single click. Yet there are cracks in the system and by the end the scenario will be radically altered.
We follow the narrative from three interesting perspectives that will intersect at certain points: the compelling narrative of Ben, an old man whose wife has progressive dementia and he struggles to keep her in touch with reality and to find food in this new world; Peruzzi the Janitor, who commits hubris as he discovers that he can roam out there when everyone sleeps and be king of the dead world -- every outing of his is full of suspense; and an unnamed terrorist from the past who had fought desperately to alter the course of events and gives insights into how this world came to be.
This novel fuses Orwellian elements, from surveillance to the dilapidated, dusty atmospheres of the city, and Gibsonian touches (The Matrix). I found the premises interesting and original, both in the treatment of overpopulation as a main lens and in the gamification aspect, i.e. imagining how to make markets flow. Moreover, the plot is gripping as you feel you are always on the verge of something ominous and it was intriguing to see characters going to the extremes – the scenes of societal collapse felt devastating and full of impact. Everything in this action-packed novel seems perfect for a movie: you actually feel you can visualize what is going on. Altogether the novel is well conceived, full of interesting ideas and kept me guessing and hooked till the end.
Thank you Sandstone Press and Netgalley for an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
We follow the narrative from three interesting perspectives that will intersect at certain points: the compelling narrative of Ben, an old man whose wife has progressive dementia and he struggles to keep her in touch with reality and to find food in this new world; Peruzzi the Janitor, who commits hubris as he discovers that he can roam out there when everyone sleeps and be king of the dead world -- every outing of his is full of suspense; and an unnamed terrorist from the past who had fought desperately to alter the course of events and gives insights into how this world came to be.
This novel fuses Orwellian elements, from surveillance to the dilapidated, dusty atmospheres of the city, and Gibsonian touches (The Matrix). I found the premises interesting and original, both in the treatment of overpopulation as a main lens and in the gamification aspect, i.e. imagining how to make markets flow. Moreover, the plot is gripping as you feel you are always on the verge of something ominous and it was intriguing to see characters going to the extremes – the scenes of societal collapse felt devastating and full of impact. Everything in this action-packed novel seems perfect for a movie: you actually feel you can visualize what is going on. Altogether the novel is well conceived, full of interesting ideas and kept me guessing and hooked till the end.
Thank you Sandstone Press and Netgalley for an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This One Sky Day by Leone Ross
adventurous
dark
funny
inspiring
mysterious
5.0
A truly impressive work and unique achievement. Wonderfully inventive, filled with colour, humour, a veiled sadness and surreal imagery. A work of magic realism where the characters have a special magic power. The various elements (love, tale of addiction, postcolonial theme, political satire) mix and blend in really well. The world building is amazing, and so are the dialogues. It is a book to be savoured slowly.
I am grateful to the publisher for an ARC via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
I am grateful to the publisher for an ARC via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Boys Don't Cry by Fíona Scarlett
challenging
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
medium-paced
5.0
This is a splendid debut. A wonderful read, harrowing and full of humanity and compassion. We have a narrative of growing up in a housing estate in inner city Dublin, explored though the eyes of two brothers, 12-year-old Finn and 17-year Joe. As their father, a local gangster, goes to prison for murder, we follow them as they go through their personal battles as 12-year Finn fights against a life-threatening illness and his older brother Joe, uncomfortable both at the private school he entered through a scholarship and at the local pub where he is now an outsider, struggles not to become like his father and to resist the pressure coming from the local -like mobster who has ruined the lives of many, including his father. The author has superb command of language, manages to render the unsaid, the unspoken love and grief, and she effectively evokes extremely disturbing situations just by hinting at them. The characters are complex and masterfully rendered with compassionate eyes, with love and hope shining even in the darkest moments. If you liked Shuggie Bain this it for you!
Libertie by Kaitlyn Greenidge
adventurous
informative
inspiring
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? It's complicated
4.25
Outstanding #historicalnovel set in the self-sufficient #Weeksville free Black community, established in 1838 in Brooklyn.
Libertie is the daughter of Doctor Cathy Samson, a homeopath and physician, inspired by the first African-American female doctor in NY state, whom we meet the as she “raises” Ben from the coffin in which he has escaped slavery. She is determined that her daughter, who grows up helping in the practice, should go to college and become a doctor herself, and all her efforts are directed toward this goal, but Libertie challenges this notion and her adventurous quest for self-determination continues as she gets married and moves to Haiti, where she will be confronted with a patricarchal system and abusive characters.
Greenidge scrutinizes the values of the emerging African American bourgeoisie and the notion of the Talented Tenth, according to which African Americans of talent have an obligation to pursue an education for the greater good of society. This tenet dominates the tense mother and daughter relationship as Libertie’s character, complex, stubborn, inquisitive and flawed in several ways (she defines herself as lazy), defies this notion.
The quest for freedom and self-determination is indeed the propulsive force behind this marvellous book and is explored in different domains, in the family/domestic realm and at a wider societal and historical level, by looking at places that were promising freedom and equality, i.e. progressive post Civil War New York and Haiti, which in the nineteenth century had become a “model” for independence and emancipation. The author’s multifaceted analysis highlights the constraints that black women faced: despite apparent progressivism, episodes of racism, segregationism, sexism, classism and colourism still abound.
Truly complex, thought-provoking and captivating, occasionally slow.
Libertie is the daughter of Doctor Cathy Samson, a homeopath and physician, inspired by the first African-American female doctor in NY state, whom we meet the as she “raises” Ben from the coffin in which he has escaped slavery. She is determined that her daughter, who grows up helping in the practice, should go to college and become a doctor herself, and all her efforts are directed toward this goal, but Libertie challenges this notion and her adventurous quest for self-determination continues as she gets married and moves to Haiti, where she will be confronted with a patricarchal system and abusive characters.
Greenidge scrutinizes the values of the emerging African American bourgeoisie and the notion of the Talented Tenth, according to which African Americans of talent have an obligation to pursue an education for the greater good of society. This tenet dominates the tense mother and daughter relationship as Libertie’s character, complex, stubborn, inquisitive and flawed in several ways (she defines herself as lazy), defies this notion.
The quest for freedom and self-determination is indeed the propulsive force behind this marvellous book and is explored in different domains, in the family/domestic realm and at a wider societal and historical level, by looking at places that were promising freedom and equality, i.e. progressive post Civil War New York and Haiti, which in the nineteenth century had become a “model” for independence and emancipation. The author’s multifaceted analysis highlights the constraints that black women faced: despite apparent progressivism, episodes of racism, segregationism, sexism, classism and colourism still abound.
Truly complex, thought-provoking and captivating, occasionally slow.
Redder Days by Sue Rainsford
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
4.0
Dark, unsettling and enigmatic
“We had yet to see how it unfurled inside our own species.
How it impacted the two-legged and carnal. A glimmer of puce in woman’s eye, a child’s back with its fuzz of copper fur. Biological ripples that spoke to an interior horror”
Redder days is set in a post-apocalyptic, dystopian world where men, animals, vegetation and all living organisms seems to be plagued by the Red, a disease that among other things transfers some animal qualities to the individual catching it. Two twins, Anna and Adam, live alone in an isolated dwelling after the community, including their mother, abandoned them. The only one remaining with them is Koan, the once charismatic guru/leader who exercised control over the community with his insights and prophecies. These include the malignancy of the Red, the need to abate whatever is touched by it, including infants, the coming of a redemptive Storm and the rituals of purifications. He exercises forms of control over women and births. But is all he says true? The return of one of the members will make us see things in a different light.
This is an immersive, unsettling and enigmatic read. The reader is catapulted into this world and must hunt for clues and draw his own (incomplete) conclusions. The reading experience is a disorienting one as we are not given to understand what happened and which versions of reality are reliable, having been given only partial points of view. We are immersed in a world where nature is ominous and strangely alive and humans start displaying animal qualities, where woods seem alive entities engulfing humans, alliances with animals seem possible and the ominous appearance of sea creatures is charged with symbolic qualities.
Many are the themes that inhabit this post-apocalyptic scenario: one is the blind faith expressed by the community, desperate search for beliefs in times of uncertainty and the manipulative power that exploits them. Partly a novel about ecological disruption, Redder Days also thematises the reaction of horror in front of the breakdown this disease represents (e.g. breakdown of meaning and of the order of the world as we know it, between human and animal, skin and flesh recalling the notion of abject). The novel also thematises the threat posed by the body and in particular the female body: it features a magmatic web of discourses around the “two-legged and carnal”, the female body with its fluids, excretions and birth, the association of sexuality, pleasure, birth and plague and the attempt to suppress and control it all. We are in a dystopian world in which, in one of the fugitives’ words (Tabatha), being born into the world and living becomes an experience of estrangement, of "severing parts” and suppressing the scream inside -- the only thing that seems to make sense is to escape. A related theme is aptly abandonment and guilt, atonement and redemption. Human affairs are also intertwined with those of a the planet finding a “way to purge”. All this accounts for a complex, mesmerizing experience (the notions of severance, collapsing boundaries and purge all invite a confrontation with Kristeva’s notion of the abject, and a reading in this light is useful).
The reader, immersed in this world, witnesses the collapse and breakdown of boundaries and meanings and may feel lost, searching for answers. While this probably is a desired effect, at times it can also detract from the reading experience. What makes this novel fantastic is Rainsford’s immensely evocative visionary writing, the powerful world building, the eerily disturbing imagery and the female subtext. Certainly a unique accomplishment.
I am grateful to the publisher for an ARC of this book via NetGalley
“We had yet to see how it unfurled inside our own species.
How it impacted the two-legged and carnal. A glimmer of puce in woman’s eye, a child’s back with its fuzz of copper fur. Biological ripples that spoke to an interior horror”
Redder days is set in a post-apocalyptic, dystopian world where men, animals, vegetation and all living organisms seems to be plagued by the Red, a disease that among other things transfers some animal qualities to the individual catching it. Two twins, Anna and Adam, live alone in an isolated dwelling after the community, including their mother, abandoned them. The only one remaining with them is Koan, the once charismatic guru/leader who exercised control over the community with his insights and prophecies. These include the malignancy of the Red, the need to abate whatever is touched by it, including infants, the coming of a redemptive Storm and the rituals of purifications. He exercises forms of control over women and births. But is all he says true? The return of one of the members will make us see things in a different light.
This is an immersive, unsettling and enigmatic read. The reader is catapulted into this world and must hunt for clues and draw his own (incomplete) conclusions. The reading experience is a disorienting one as we are not given to understand what happened and which versions of reality are reliable, having been given only partial points of view. We are immersed in a world where nature is ominous and strangely alive and humans start displaying animal qualities, where woods seem alive entities engulfing humans, alliances with animals seem possible and the ominous appearance of sea creatures is charged with symbolic qualities.
Many are the themes that inhabit this post-apocalyptic scenario: one is the blind faith expressed by the community, desperate search for beliefs in times of uncertainty and the manipulative power that exploits them. Partly a novel about ecological disruption, Redder Days also thematises the reaction of horror in front of the breakdown this disease represents (e.g. breakdown of meaning and of the order of the world as we know it, between human and animal, skin and flesh recalling the notion of abject). The novel also thematises the threat posed by the body and in particular the female body: it features a magmatic web of discourses around the “two-legged and carnal”, the female body with its fluids, excretions and birth, the association of sexuality, pleasure, birth and plague and the attempt to suppress and control it all. We are in a dystopian world in which, in one of the fugitives’ words (Tabatha), being born into the world and living becomes an experience of estrangement, of "severing parts” and suppressing the scream inside -- the only thing that seems to make sense is to escape. A related theme is aptly abandonment and guilt, atonement and redemption. Human affairs are also intertwined with those of a the planet finding a “way to purge”. All this accounts for a complex, mesmerizing experience (the notions of severance, collapsing boundaries and purge all invite a confrontation with Kristeva’s notion of the abject, and a reading in this light is useful).
The reader, immersed in this world, witnesses the collapse and breakdown of boundaries and meanings and may feel lost, searching for answers. While this probably is a desired effect, at times it can also detract from the reading experience. What makes this novel fantastic is Rainsford’s immensely evocative visionary writing, the powerful world building, the eerily disturbing imagery and the female subtext. Certainly a unique accomplishment.
I am grateful to the publisher for an ARC of this book via NetGalley
The Art of Falling by Danielle McLaughlin
dark
emotional
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
“To be, rather than to to seem” are the first words in the novel and the motto carved in stone upon entering a school. Upon exiting, we find the same words in Latin, having learnt our lesson. Are we really what we seem, the image we project onto the world? This complex, gripping novel explores the different facets of illusion and betrayal and what kind of compromises we strike with our secrets.
Phillip and Nessa are married and live in the Cork are with their teen daughter. Nessa is an art curator currently working on the acquisition of a Chalk Sculpture, the highest point of deceased artist Robert Locke’s creative output. Philip deals in real estate but is in financial difficulties. He has had a recent affair with the mother of their daughter’s best friend, which makes Nessa resentful and their daughter miserable. But can Nessa really claim the moral high ground? Once the husband and son of Nessa’s best friend (who committed suicide) reappear in her life and a stranger comes out of the blue claiming authorship of the Chalk Sculpture, we start wondering if we can put anything or anyone on a pedestal at all. Certainly not for too long.
To fall off a pedestal without disintegrating is an art in itself. McLaughlin is interested in the aftermath of the fall: how we live with our lies, how we process the damage, how we make reparation and how we can possibly piece ourselves together again, like in the art of Kintsugi. And she does so in a multi-layered, carefully orchestrated plot that kept the pages turning. Most characters are purposely imperfect, unpleasant and flawed, which makes them vivid psychological portraits. Among other things, I was really taken in by the mystery surrounding the Chalk Sculpture. The doubts surrounding its attribution, the question of its fragility and ephemerality, its contested value as expression of pure genius – they all contribute to make it a powerful metaphor for what happens in the novel.
An engaging, redemptive novel on being flawed and utterly human, certainly a recommended read.