Callum McLaughlin's Blog, page 25

Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk | Book Review

Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk (translated by Antonia Lloyd-Jones)

Published by Riverhead Books, 2019 (first published in 2009)

My rating:

[image error]This is the kind of mixed review that I feel deserves a preface: I can recognise that this is a fantastic book, fully deserving of its critical acclaim. Whilst a couple of things didn’t work for me stylistically, I was consistently impressed by the quality of Tokarczuk’s work, and the skill of Lloyd-Jones’s translation.

The plot centres around an elderly Polish woman who lives in a remote village close to the Czech border. Her love for nature and staunch belief in astrology put her into direct conflict with the community of hunters around her. And when those hunters start dying one-by-one, she is adamant that animals are rising up to take revenge against humans.

Marketing this book must have been a nightmare, as it completely defies all categorisation and genre convention. That said, describing it as a mystery and a thriller feels counterintuitive, partly because of its slower pacing and contemplative tone, but largely because the identity of whodunnit (and why) is wholly obvious from the beginning. It made the eventual reveal miss for me, coming off as anti-climactic and info-dumpy, recounting past events from a different angle rather than offering new insight. If the mystery framing of the narrative had been ditched, Tokarczuk could have delved far deeper into the fascinating psyche of her protagonist from the get to, fully embracing the character study this clearly wanted to be.

On a personal level, I also wasn’t keen on the numerous lengthy tangents into the nature of astrology. Though they tied into the book’s look at fate versus free will, they were very jargon heavy and dry for someone with no real interest in or knowledge of the area.

On the other hand, there was much to admire. I really Liked the evocation of setting and atmosphere, and the singularity of the narrative voice. The quality of the prose is excellent, and Tokarczuk touches on a number of other interesting themes – including animal welfare, society’s dismissal of women, the line between defiance and madness, and the lamentations of life in an aging body. The frequent capitalisation of improper nouns was also noteworthy. It’s a simple but effective way to show our narrator’s different worldview, as she elevates animal species, the landscape, and her beloved horoscopes and astrology to the same level of importance as people – or perhaps even gods. It helps Tokarczuk to pose her novel’s primary question: Why should humans have the right to place their own worth above everything else?

You can pick up a copy of Drive Your Plow… from Book Depository by clicking here. If you’ve already read it, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

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Bookish Christmas Gift Guide 2019

I’m going to go on record and say this annual bookish guide is my favourite post of the year to work on. And so, it’s with great excitement that we’ve reached that time again! I stand by all my recommendations from previous years, which you can find by clicking here, here, and here. But without further ado, here are some gift ideas should you be looking to treat the bookish people in your life this Christmas – or if you just fancy treating yourself.

BOOKENDS

Bookends are a practical gift, helping someone to organise and display their ever-growing collection of books, but they’re also a cute way of adding some decoration to your shelves. There are all sorts of options, meaning you can pick a design that suits the recipient’s personal taste. I love owls, for example, and am very happy to have these little guys perched on my bookcase.

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Cute, huh?

CHARACTER STATUES

A collectable toy, statue, or figure of a beloved character is another way to add some personalised fun to your shelves. I have several from the Disney collection to accompany some children’s classics, a few of which can be seen below. If you want to go one better, I think one of these alongside a gorgeous copy of the relevant book would make a particularly lovely gift. On that front, I can highly recommend any editions illustrated by Robert Ingpen.

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With big books and franchises, you won’t struggle to find lots of other examples, with Funko Pop! figurines probably being your best bet – like these characters taken from Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, and Lord of the Rings.

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PINS & BADGES

Badges could range from general bookish slogans and cute book designs, to specific quotes from the recipient’s favourite novels and authors. There are so many options out there to suit a range of tastes and budgets, with the following examples all available from Literary Emporium.

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PORTABLE READING LIGHTS

This is a great little gift for any bookworm who likes to travel. You simply clip it onto your book and you can carry on reading long into the night – perfect for reading on planes without disturbing fellow flyers with the overhead lights. Along a similar vein, they’re also handy for students with roommates they don’t want to disturb with their nocturnal reading habits. You can get simple lights like the one shown below, or more playful designs, like one that resembles a golden snitch.

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STATIONERY

It’s not quite a universal truth, but I think it’s fair to say most bookworms love a bit of stationery. You can never go far wrong with a beautiful notebook, but The Literary Gift Company has lots of great alternative options. A few of my favourites from their range include Alice in Wonderland sticky notes, pencils inscribed with bookish sayings, a Jane Austen themed pencil case, and a novelty desk tidy that looks like a giant pencil sharpener.

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LIT MAG SUBSCRIPTIONS

Ironically, the hardest thing to buy for many book lovers is, well, books. There’s always that inherent fear they’ll already own what you choose to buy them. That’s where literary magazines come in handy. Publishing original pieces regularly, they’re a great way to discover new writers. You could buy some back issues to let the recipient try the publication, or take out a subscription on their behalf, entitling them to however many issues are released throughout the next 12 months.

Ellipsis Zine is great for those who like short stories and flash fiction (I can vouch for them as both a reader and a writer, having had 4 of my own stories published in their most recent issues). Blood Bath Literary Zine contains a mix of fiction, poetry, and visual art centred around surrealist horror, whilst The Rialto is great for lovers of contemporary poetry from both established and emerging poets alike.

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My own collection of zines from Ellipsis, Blood Bath, and The Rialto.

BOOK BOX SUBSCRIPTIONS

If you like the idea of a subscription service but would rather stick to actual books (often delivered alongside bits and pieces of bookish swag), there are still lots of options. You’ve probably heard of some of the big players, like Book of the Month and Owl Crate, but here are a few ideas if you’d prefer to go for something a little different. (For the record, I’ve only used the last company mentioned; the others I just love the sound of.)

Books That Matter is a monthly feminist themed subscription box that aims to ‘enlighten, educate and empower’. Each delivery includes a book by a female, trans or non-binary author, and at least 3 themed gifts produced by independent female creatives.

Mr B’s Reading Emporium will send a book to the recipient each month. Rather than a standardised selection, Mr B’s booksellers will handpick titles based on the recipient’s individual interests.

Bookishly has several subscription options on offer, including ones that pair books with tea or coffee. I particularly like the idea of their Classic of the Month box, which includes a classic text that has been covered by a gorgeous dust jacket designed exclusively for Bookishly.

Persephone publishes forgotten classics by women that had previously gone out of print. Their sleek, contemporary editions are beautifully produced, and each one boasts a stunning, uniquely patterned endpaper and matching bookmark. You can choose 6 or 12 books to be sent out monthly, or you can allow the recipient to choose their own titles instead from the Persephone catalogue.

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Some of the Persephone Classics (top), which is their range of bestsellers reissued at a reduced price with new covers, and some of their standard editions (bottom), which feature the patterned endpapers inside.

TIE-IN BOOKS

Does the recipient have a favourite movie, TV show, video game, or suchlike? Chances are it has some great tie-in books that showcase concept art, storyboards, developer interviews, and behind the scenes insights. By combining two things they love, a companion book is sure to go down well, and since these coffee-table-style books are often very visual, they feel all the more gift-worthy. As an example, here’s a little look at an excellent Pan’s Labyrinth tie-in book I was given a while ago:

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STOCKING STUFFER BOOKS

Small, inexpensive books that we’re less likely to buy for ourselves make great little gifts at this time of year. Here are a few suggestions, a couple of which are specifically Christmassy, and a couple of which could be read at any time of year.

Twas the Nightshift Before Christmas by Adam Kay is a pocket-sized follow up to his previous hit, This is Going to Hurt. These real-life diaries from Kay’s time working as a junior doctor throughout the festive period promise to deliver his trademark pathos and dry humour.

Another Night Before Christmas by Carol Ann Duffy is a modern riff on the beloved story, published as a charming little hardback and beautifully illustrated by Rob Ryan’s paper cut-outs.

No One Is Too Small to Make a Difference by Greta Thunberg collects speeches delivered by the celebrated teen climate activist. A recent updated edition contains extra speeches and the welcome addition of photography documenting her meteoric rise to the world stage.

Mr Salary by Sally Rooney is part of the Faber Stories range, which has lots of options for literary stocking stuffers. Given the huge success of Rooney’s novels, many readers would surely jump at the chance to read another sliver of her incisive work.

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BEAUTIFUL BOOKS

‘Beautiful books’ is a fairly subjective term, I grant you, but I reckon you’d be hard pushed to find someone who didn’t appreciate the aesthetic prowess of the following offerings. Graphic novels, coffee table books, and illustrated texts in general make wonderful gifts. After all, they look gorgeous, and they’re the kind of thing most readers are less likely to treat themselves to, making them feel all the more generous when gifted!

Snow, Glass, Apples by Neil Gaiman and Colleen Doran is a twisted retelling of Snow White that vindicates the efforts of the so-called wicked queen by painting the eponymous heroine as the true villain of the piece.

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Examples of the art style in Snow, Glass, Apples

Literary Witches by Taisia Kitaiskaia and Katy Horan celebrates the magic of female writers, both iconic and overlooked. Each entry is accompanied by a stunning portrait and recommended reading from the author’s oeuvre, making it both a gorgeous gift and a great means of discovering new writers.

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Examples of the art style in Literary Witches

The Fairy-Tale Princess by Wendy Jones and Su Blackwell retells 7 timeless stories, including Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and Rapunzel. The real highlight, however, is Blackwell’s incredible artwork; photographs of 3D paper sculptures made from old books.

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Examples of the art style in The Fairy-Tale Princess

There we have it! I hope you picked up a few bookish gift ideas, and however you choose to spend it, I hope you all have a lovely festive period.

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November Wrap Up

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The books I read in November

There’s time for one more wrap up before the festivities hit full swing. Throughout November, I read 10 books, bringing my total for the year so far up to 115. Here are some brief thoughts on each of them, with links to my full reviews if you’d like to know more.

1.  Another Day in the Death of America by Gary Younge

[ ] Younge examines the epidemic of gun violence in America, particularly at the intersection of race and inequality. By humanising the victims normally reduced to mind-numbing statistics (by presenting us with case studies of 10 young casualties who were all killed on the same random day), he lays bare the extent of the problem and why drastic change is so necessary.

2. In the Cave of the Delicate Singers by Lucy Taylor

[ ] There’s some untapped potential in this unsettling story about a one-woman rescue mission in a mysterious cave, but the haunting imagery really lingers in the mind. The atmosphere is suitably claustrophobic, and I enjoyed the casual queer rep.

3. Blood Bath: The Bodies Issue, edited by Katy Lennon

[ ] Images and ideas throughout the works featured in this lit mag were suitably haunting, but with a strong emphasis on surrealism, I would have preferred a little more grounding to help drive home the thematic implications of the horrors on show. More than worth it for the couple of standout gems.

4. Mary Toft; or The Rabbit Queen by Dexter Palmer

[ ] Review to come for BookBrowse.

5. Exquisite Cadavers by Meena Kandasamy

[ ] This experimental novella is at once the story of a young couple attempting to navigate growing tensions within their home and across the globe, and a look at the wider context of the author’s life and musings throughout the book’s creation. The craftsmanship is fantastic, with stunning use of language, but I found the reading experience too fragmented to feel invested.

6. by Katie Hale

[ ] The heroine of this post-apocalyptic survival story believes she is the last human on Earth, and so she must readjust her entire way of life when she finds and takes in a feral young girl. Riffing on many of the themes and ideas established in Frankenstein, the novel looks at identity, belonging, the enduring nature of societal roles, creator versus creation, and surviving versus truly living. The world-building is handled incredibly well, and I found the whole thing intelligent, nuanced, and compelling.

7. The Break by Katherena Vermette

[ ] When a teenage girl is brutally attacked, her extended family of Métis women rally to her side. An intergeneration domestic saga, I enjoyed its look at identity, community, inheritance, the shared process of healing, and the socioeconomic conditions that can push women to turn on each other. The many perspectives lacked enough definition, however, meaning I struggled to place the large cast of characters within the wider context of the family. Still, this is a solid novel, and I can see why it attracted such glowing reviews.

8. The Forester’s Daughter by Claire Keegan

[ ] Tension brews within an Irish family as long-held secrets rise to the fore. There’s a fable-esque quality to this brief tale which makes its inevitable tragedy and off-kilter semblance of hope all the more impactful.

9. A Keeper by Graham Norton

[ ] Though things became a little convoluted towards the end, Norton can certainly weave a good yarn. This story about a woman delving into her deceased mother’s past eked out twists at a great pace, and I enjoyed its look at the depth of parental love, the pressures of society, the pain of living with secrets, and the idea of inheritance across generations.

10. The Ghost, The Owl by Franco, illustrated by Sara Richard

[ ] The story in this whimsical graphic novel felt a little rushed, but I enjoyed the overall sentiment about overcoming our differences so we can stand together against injustice. Sara Richard’s accompanying artwork was stunning, and definitely the book’s highlight.

There we have it! My favourite read of the month was My Name is Monster. What was yours?

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Irish Lit and a Graphic Novel | Mini Reviews

The Forester’s Daughter by Claire Keegan

Published by Faber & Faber, 2019

My rating:

[image error]This tale of secrets and wilful ignorance simmers with a quietly menacing tension. Set in rural Ireland, it chronicles the unravelling of long-guarded lies within a family, and the unique brand of loneliness that comes with sacrificing desire in favour of keeping up appearances. The climax feels tragically inevitable, and though the whole thing is full of supressed pathos, the ending delivers an unexpected sliver of hope that comes with new beginnings. Couple this with the straight-forward yet assured prose, and the story takes on a fable-esque quality that I really enjoyed.

You can read The Forester’s Daughter as part of a full collection of stories by clicking here.

A Keeper by Graham Norton

Published by Coronet, 2018

My rating:

[image error]When her mother dies, Elizabeth returns to her home in rural Ireland to sort out her belongings. Uncovering a box of hidden love letters, she delves into a past she knew nothing about, finally coming to understand her own origins, and the woman her mother truly was. Using a dual narrative structure, Norton explores the depth of parental love, the pressure to adhere to societal norms, the pain of keeping secrets, and the cyclical nature of family drama across different generations. Twists are eked out at a good pace, and I remained intrigued throughout. The separate time periods and the general tone of pathos are evoked well, but I felt things became a little convoluted towards the end. Still, Norton can weave a good yarn, and I would be open to trying more of his fiction.

You can pick up a copy of A Keeper from Book Depository by clicking here.

The Ghost, The Owl by Franco, illustrated by Sara Richard

Published by Diamond Book Distributors, 2018

My rating:

[image error]I picked this graphic novel up on a whim after seeing some of the art online a while ago and thinking it looked gorgeous. Very fable-esque in tone, it centres around an owl helping a ghost to make peace with her life and death, and struggling with the rule that forbids animals from interfering with human lives. Story-wise, it was fine. Things felt a bit rushed and there were a couple of plot holes (even within the context of such a whimsical story), but I did like the allegorical message about overcoming difference so we can stand together against injustice. The highlight was definitely Sara Richard’s art, however. She forgoes traditional panels entirely, the whole thing blending together into one continuously flowing visual narrative. The attention to detail is stunning, and I would certainly seek out more of her work.

You can pick up a copy of The Ghost, The Owl from Book Depository by clicking here.

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Most Anticipated Releases of 2020

With 2019 nearing its end, minds will soon start turning to the year ahead and the books it has in store for us. So here it is; a look at some of the releases scheduled for 2020 that I’m most excited about. I’ve put them in publication order, as far as I could track down specific dates. But there’s a lot to cover, so let’s just get started!

The Teacher by Michal Ben-Naftali | 21st January | Open Letter

[image error]An elusive but respected high school teacher in Tel Aviv commits suicide. Thirty years later, one of her students delves into her past, hoping that the secrets of her life will help make sense of her tragic death. After discovering that she was a Holocaust survivor, the book goes on to explore ‘the impact of survivor’s guilt and traces the footprints of a Holocaust survivor who did her utmost to leave no trace’. This sounds like an incredibly poignant read.

Alice by Heart by Steven Sater | 4th February | Razorbill

[image error]A teenage girl is sheltering in an underground tube station during the Blitz. When her best friend falls deathly ill with tuberculosis, she begins reciting the beloved story that first bonded them, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, drawing on the power of storytelling and the wonder of the imagination to sustain life and provide escapism from the horrors of reality. I adore the art of storytelling as a theme, and feel incredibly nostalgic about Wonderland, so this sounds like it could be fantastic!

The Illness Lesson by Claire Beams | 6th February | Doubleday

[image error]This is billed as ‘an intensely vivid debut about women’s minds and bodies, and the time-honoured tradition of doubting both’. Set in a school afflicted by a mysterious illness, the setup has a lot of parallels with Wilder Girls, which I loved. The lone female teacher must hide her own symptoms so she can stand against the sinister physician and male authorities that threaten the girls under her care.

The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave | 11th February | Little, Brown & Company

[image error]Set in Norway in the early 1600s, The Mercies is ‘a feminist story of love, evil, and obsession’. When the menfolk of a remote village are wiped out in a horrific fishing accident, the women must fend for themselves. Several years later, a dominating figure arrives from Scotland, believing the place to be plagued by witchcraft. His wife, however, is both awed and terrified by the sight of independent women. I enjoyed Deathless Girls by the same author recently, and historical fiction set in remote locations is a niche I adore. I believe the book also has some queer representation, which is another big plus.

The Snow Collectors by Tina May Hall | 12th February | Dzanc Books

[image error]An atmospheric and suspenseful historic mystery based around the Franklin expedition, and set amidst ‘a gothic landscape of locked towers, dream-like nights of snow and ice, and a crumbling mansion rife with hidden passageways’. That is so my brand. Props to Rachel for bringing this one to my attention recently.

The Companions by Katie M. Flynn | 3rd March | Gallery/Scout Press

[image error]Early reviews for this seem to be fairly polarised, but the concept is just too brilliant not to give it a mention. Set in the near future, the dead can now be uploaded into machines that serve as companions to the living. Whilst the wealthy can pay to remain within the custody of their family, the less fortunate are rented out to lonely strangers. When one companion retains intellectual autonomy, she defies her owner’s commands and breaks off in search of the woman who killed her. I hope I gel with the author’s style, as this seems like the kind of sci-fi I could really adore.

The Animals at Lockwood Manor by Jane Healey | 10th March | Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

[image error]During WWII, a natural history museum collection is moved out of London and placed in a country house for safekeeping. Hetty has been put in charge of looking after the collection, but upon arrival at the manor, she finds a tyrannical homeowner, a young woman plagued by nightmares, and a series of increasingly strange and unnerving goings on. Having stumbled into ‘a place of secrets and terror’, Hetty soon begins to question her very sanity. This sounds like my ideal read. No pressure.

New Waves by Kevin Nguyen | 10th March | One World

[image error]Margo is a brilliant programmer, tired of being overruled as the company’s sole black employee. She teams up with Lucas, a low paid Asian worker who feels invisible, to try and steal the tech start-up’s user database, but the heist goes wrong and Margo is killed in a car accident. Suspecting there may have been more to his friend’s death, Lucas delves into Margo’s secret online life, revealing just how little he actually knew about her. The book explores ‘secrecy and surveillance, social media and friendship’, and the struggle to establish true intimacy and connection in a tech-based society.

My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russell | 31st March | Fourth Estate

[image error]When a 32-year-old’s former teacher is accused of sexual abuse by another of his students, she is forced to re-evaluate the dynamic they shared in her teens. Was their supposed love actually an abuse of power? Was her great sexual awakening tantamount to rape? This sounds like a fantastic and emotionally charged response to the #MeToo movement, and a very worthwhile contribution to the discussion on historic cases of abuse.

Hex by Rebecca Dinerstein Knight | 31st March | Viking

[image error]Described as ‘a spellbinding novel of emotional and intellectual intensity’ at the meeting point of ambition and desire, Hex follows a PhD candidate’s research into the fine line between poison and antidote. All the while, she becomes increasingly obsessed with her female tutor, and is drawn into a tangled web of illicit affairs, grudges, and heartbreak.

The Island Child by Molly Aitken | March | Canongate Books

[image error]‘Rich, haunting and rooted in Irish folklore, The Island Child is a spellbinding debut novel about identity and motherhood, freedom and fate, and the healing power of stories.’ I don’t really need to know more than that to be very excited about this one. The gorgeous cover doesn’t hurt though, to be fair.

Kim Ji-young, Born 1982 by Cho Nam-Joo | 14th April | Anansi International

[image error]A Korean woman’s life has been dictated by misogyny is its many forms. When this systematic gendered belittling starts taking its toll, she begins to display strange behaviour, leading her husband to seek the aid of a psychiatrist. I love books that dissect gender roles and mental health in this way. A ‘clinical assessment of the everywoman’ rendered in ‘eerie prose’, this sounds like it could be a little gem from the translated lit scene.

Death in Her Hands by Ottessa Moshfegh | 21st April | Penguin Press

[image error]I haven’t read any of Moshfegh’s work yet, but she’s an author I’ve been interested in for a while. Her newest offering is ‘a triumphant blend of horror, suspense, and pitch-black comedy’, and it follows an elderly woman who becomes obsessed with solving the mystery behind a note she finds, alluding to a murder in her new hometown.

Sea Wife by Amity Gaige | 28th April | Alfred A. Knopf

[image error]Juliet was struggling with her dissertation and the perils of postpartum depression when her husband Michael suggested a family sailing trip. The narrative is presented in two distinct parts; Michael’s captain’s log chronicling the events of the trip itself, and Juliet’s efforts in the present-day to come to terms with the tragedies that played out at sea. ‘Exuberant, harrowing, witty, and exquisitely written’, Sea Wife is a survival story, but it ‘also asks a pertinent question for our polarized political moment: How does a crew with deep philosophical differences and outmoded gender roles bring a ship safely to shore?’

Blue Ticket by Sophie Mackintosh | 7th May | Hamish Hamilton

[image error]I enjoyed Mackintosh’s debut, The Water Cure, and really like the sound of her next offering. ‘Bold and chilling, it pushes beneath the skin of female identity and patriarchal violence, to the point where human longing meets our animal bodies’. The plot is based around a twisted form of lottery that dictates women’s futures. I love the theme of fate versus freewill, so my interest is very much piqued!

Catherine House by Elisabeth Thomas | 12th May | Custom House

[image error]Described as a literary page turner, Catherine House is a gothic mystery that seemingly combines ‘the haunting sophistication and dusky, atmospheric style of Sarah Waters with the unsettling isolation of Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go’. That sounds excellent, as does the secluded, elite university setting.

Sisters by Daisy Johnson | 4th June | Jonathan Cape

[image error]I loved Everything Under, and Johnson’s new novel sounds like it could be excellent as well. Two sisters move to a long-abandoned family home to escape a serious case of bullying, but the arrival of a boy threatens to come between them. ‘With its roots in psychological horror, Sisters is a taut, powerful and deeply moving account of sibling love’.

Thin Girls by Diana Clarke | 9th June | Harper

[image error]A young woman is stuck in an anorexia rehabilitation centre. When she hears that her twin sister has been drawn into a bizarre dieting cult run by a faux-feminist dictator, she determines to get well so she can gain her freedom and save her. It’s ‘an exploration of toxic diet culture as well as the power of sisterhood, love, and lifelong friendship’, and I’m very much hyped.

The New Wilderness by Diane Cook | 11th August | Harper

[image error]This futuristic dystopian is set in a world ravaged by the effects of climate change. The Wilderness State is an area of protected land; the last where the air is clean, and plants and animals still thrive. Bea accepts on offer to be one of the first people to enter the Wilderness State, hoping the clean air will save her ailing daughter, Agnes. The experiment aims to test if humans and nature can live in harmony, but Agnes’s newfound wildness draws her away from her urbanised mother, and with the government threatening to develop the Wilderness State, the book explores whether or not we can find a way to work with the natural world rather than against it. I’m very excited about this one!

Gay Like Me by Richie Jackson | 8th October | Harper

[image error]The only non-fiction on my list, Gay Like Me is an open letter from the author to his son. As a gay man himself, Jackson felt compelled to reflect on his own experiences, and to examine cultural and political change throughout the years, when his 18-year-old son came out to him. Described as ‘angry, proud, fierce, and tender’, it’s ‘a blueprint for our times’ that celebrates progress whilst highlighting lingering prejudice faced by the queer community.

I’m going to have to stop there because this post is already way too long. It’s by no means a comprehensive list of all the exciting books coming out next year, but more than enough to start building some hype! What upcoming releases are you most looking forward to?

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The Break by Katherena Vermette | Book Review

The Break by Katherena Vermette

Published by Atlantic Books, 2018

My rating:

[image error]When a teenage girl is brutally attacked, her extended family – made up almost entirely of Métis women – rallies to her side. Mothers, daughters, grandmothers, aunts, nieces, cousins; the perspective shifts between these many women, weaving an intergeneration family saga that explores the ideas of identity, community, and the shared process of healing.

This all sounds fantastic, and there’s certainly a lot to admire in Vermette’s intersectional look at the concept of inheritance; be it racial, familial, or gendered. Though not heavily plot focussed, the attack forces the characters to reflect on their own experiences of violence and loss as women from a marginalized ethnic community, showing how tragically commonplace they are. Vermette champions the power of women supporting other women, but also touches on the socioeconomic conditions that can coerce some women into turning on their own, and the horror that comes with that betrayal.

I struggled, however, with the sheer number of viewpoints. Though a large cast of characters was integral to the themes being explored, the narrative voice was too one dimensional. This meant that even by the end, I was still finding it difficult to place and connect everyone within the wider context of the family. I was also a little underwhelmed by the prose itself. Though there’s nothing particularly wrong with it, it lacks a lyricism that would have better carried the slower, ruminative pace, and the understandably heavy subject matter.

It’s worth pointing out that I went into this fully expecting to adore it. It sounded exactly like my cup of tea thematically, and it has glowing reviews online. In that respect, I’m willing to concede that my high expectations may well have contributed to my somewhat lukewarm response. I still think this is a solid novel, well worth the read for those interested in a tender look at the dangers of womanhood, and the beauty of women coming together in search of mutual healing.

You can pick up a copy of The Break from Book Depository by clicking here.

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My Name is Monster by Katie Hale | Book Review

My Name is Monster by Katie Hale

Published by Canongate Books, 2019

My rating:

[image error]Katie Hale’s debut is a thematically complex take on post-apocalyptic fiction that explores the notions of survival, belonging, the enduring influence of societal roles, and the complexities of motherhood.

The world has been decimated by war and disease. Our heroine – who refers to herself only by her childhood nickname, Monster – was an engineer who worked as part of a research team dedicated to finding a cure for the world’s Sickness. When the last of her team dies, she emerges from their arctic vault, convinced she is the last human on Earth. During the perilous journey back towards her parent’s home in Scotland, she establishes a rhythm of survival, embracing her animalistic instincts. When she finds and takes in a feral young girl, she must learn how to care for someone other than herself for the first time, and find a way to reset the boundary between surviving and living.

Though this functions as a nuanced and compelling novel in its own right, it draws heavily on the primary themes of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, establishing many literary parallels that enhance its impact. From the moment Monster adopts the young girl as her own, she bestows her name upon her new protégé and restyles herself simply as Mother. This is interesting for a number of reasons. In a very literal sense, it’s suggestive of the idea that many women feel compelled to sacrifice their individuality the moment they become a mother, completely defined by their role as a caregiver (“… to create a person you must lose a person.”). On the other hand, it’s one of many allusions to Frankenstein; a playful nod to the concept of role reversals and the common misconception concerning the true ‘monster’ of the piece. It also serves as an in to the book’s look at the dynamic between creator and creation, with Mother quite literally attempting to shape Monster in her own image; to give her the life she never had – for better or worse.

I thought the worldbuilding was handled really well. We’re given glimpses of society’s collapse, but never enough in one go for it to feel like an info-dump, or for it to inhibit the reader’s imagination. I always admire when an author resists the temptation to spoon-feed their audience every extraneous detail, allowing the world to reveal itself just enough, without ever overshadowing the characters. This sentiment is reflected in the prose as well, which paints beautiful pictures without ever feeling overdone.

As with Frankenstein, the book also explores the power and wonder of language, as Monster learns how to define the world around her, and comes to understand the shortfall between literal meaning and truth. Most fascinating of all, however, is its look at ingrained societal roles. Not only does Mother instantly abandon her previous assertion that she thrives as a loner once the possibility of companionship arises, but she very quickly begins to enforce strict routine upon her daughter. The savagery of survival and the natural instincts that kept Mother alive when she was alone are no longer enough; the moment there is a semblance of society or community, old taboos regain their horror, and notions of decency and etiquette rise to the surface once more. From here, Hale is able to explore both the beauty and the danger that come with love and mentorship, and the unique brand of hope inherent to a fresh start: “Maybe getting better doesn’t mean going back to how it used to be, but moving forwards instead.”

This is the kind of read that is so intelligent, subtle, and layered in its approach, that it only improves the more time I take to mull it over. I can’t wait to see what Hale writes next.

You can pick up a copy of My Name is Monster from Book Depository by .

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Exquisite Cadavers by Meena Kandasamy | Book Review

Exquisite Cadavers by Meena Kandasamy

Published by Atlantic Books, 2019

My rating:

[image error]This experimental novella takes the concept of meta fiction to a whole new level. Throughout its entirety, two separate narratives run in parallel. One is the fictional account of a young couple living in London, attempting to navigate growing tensions within their home and across the globe. The second, written within the margins, is a series of musings on Kandasamy’s own life, giving us an insight into the wider context of the book’s creation, as well as the thoughts and inspirations behind certain key moments.

The book feels incredibly fragmented, and not just because we’re constantly moving back and forth between fiction and reality. Both accounts are sparse, choppy, and non-linear. Though fascinating ideas repeatedly crop up, and Kandasamy’s use of language is stunning (her experience as a poet shines from the page), I found the reading experience itself so jarring that I could never quite find my footing. With the disparate halves rarely aligning as convincingly as I’d hoped, the effort required to try and make them do so meant neither section impacted me as strongly as it could have.

Thus, from a narrative standpoint, I can’t say it enthralled or enlightened me. When looking at the quality of the craftsmanship, however, it is certainly an impressive feat. Kandasamy explains in the preface that she set out to write characters and stories as far removed from her own experience as possible, but ultimately proves that, no matter how hard we try to prevent it, the fears, pressures, and injustices of the real world will always bleed into the worlds we put down on the page. Beyond this, it also offers a unique take on the notions of love, loyalty, and revolution.

Sometimes gorgeous, sometimes alienating; always intellectually stimulating. This is certainly worth a read for those intrigued by the book’s singular concept.

You can pick up a copy of Exquisite Cadavers from Book Depository by clicking here. If you’ve already read it, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

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Two Horror Mini Reviews

In the Cave of the Delicate Singers by Lucy Taylor

Published by Tor Books, 2015

My rating:

[image error]A woman with a rare form of synaesthesia (a condition where she feels sound waves as vibrations on her skin) launches a one woman rescue mission when her caving colleagues fail to return from an infamous cave with a dark history. Though the protagonist’s synaesthesia is established as a key plot point early on, it becomes weirdly irrelevant and feels very underused. On the plus side, there is some great writing, good casual queer rep, and striking imagery throughout this short horror story. Taylor creates a suitably claustrophobic atmosphere, and I enjoyed the unsettling climax.

You can read In the Cave of the Delicate Singers for free by clicking here.

Blood Bath: The Bodies Issue , edited by Katy Lennon

Published by Blood Bath Literary Zine, 2018

My rating:

[image error]Blood Bath is a lit mag based in Scotland that publishes short fiction and poetry from within the horror genre. There are 13 contributors featured in this inaugural issue, and as with any anthology of work, I connected with some voices more than others.

The standout for me was Feed Them by Mary Crosbie, a disturbing sci-fi take on body image and the extreme measures some will turn to in the pursuit of society’s ideals. We follow a woman who has had flesh-eating parasites surgically inserted into her body, and the actions necessary to satiate their growing hunger. I also really enjoyed The Eye That Offends You by Alys Earl, a reimagined fairy tale that explores the blessing and the curse of insurmountable beauty.

Images and ideas throughout the featured works were suitably striking and haunting, but with a strong emphasis on surrealism, I would have preferred a little more grounding to help drive home the thematic implications of the horrors on show. Still, this is a quality publication, and I will check out more of their issues.

You can find print and digital copies of Blood Bath by clicking here.

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Another Day in the Death of America by Gary Younge | Book Review

Another Day in the Death of America by Gary Younge

Published by Faber & Faber, 2016

My rating:

[image error]Journalist Gary Younge picked a date at random – 23rd November 2013 – and investigated all the gun related deaths of children and teens that took place in America on that day. There were ten of them (excluding suicides and unreported cases), and this book tells their stories. By speaking extensively to the victims’ loved ones, Younge is able to present us with the names, faces, hopes, dreams, and personalities of those who died; kids whose legacies are normally relegated to mere statistics.

Younge writes from a unique and interesting perspective. Born and raised in the UK, he subsequently moved to America, where his own children were born. This means he grew up in a country where gun violence is a non-issue, but must now attempt to raise his kids in a country where – especially as a black person – it’s necessary to think about the very real danger of guns every single day. With insight into both ways of living, his voice resonates as both factual and emotionally engaged.

Though he didn’t set out to write a book about race or inequality, it’s impossible to ignore the patterns that emerge when examining the socioeconomic factors involved in the kids’ lives and deaths. Seven out of the ten were black, all were male, and the majority came from low income areas where poverty and gang violence were rife. Younge also examines the fallout of each death, and the rhetoric that so often tried to pin blame on the victims and their parents, rather than the shooters. It becomes clear that poverty and segregation incite a culture of desperation and hostility. In a country where guns are always quite literally to hand, the vicious cycle of wasted lives will continue so long as people feel backed up against a wall.

But what perhaps upsets the most is a sense of complacency and the lack of hope that rise to the fore throughout. None of the ten cases made national news, and some weren’t even reported locally; such is the rate and normalcy of gun deaths in the US. Even the parents of those killed felt unanimously that effective gun control would never take effect, to the extent that only one of them continues to actively campaign for change. When kids getting killed has become the norm – when those outside the victims’ immediate circles feel desensitised, powerless to help – something drastic has got to change. Younge’s book may not offer the solution, but it lays bare the true horror of the problem.

You can pick up a copy of Another Day in the Death of America from Book Depository by clicking here.

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