'Green fingers, black womb.'
'Foxash' is the story of a body. Kate Worsley enroots the story in one woman's - Lettie's - body, and cultivates a form of high sensuousness full of the felt knowledge of the physical. Lettie tills on towards the novel's climax, experiencing every grain of the narrative as a bodily perception: '[my] body feels like syrup on a spoon.'
It's a story of growing: of growing crops on a smallholding (in the first year of production under the 1930s Land Settlement Association scheme) and the fertility of rural land; it's the story of growing sociality, co-operaton, neighbourliness and belonging; it's the story of a new life for a coalminer and his pitwife, growing seeds and plugs into cash crops of cucumbers and cane fruits. But more than that, 'Foxash' is the story of the female body growing; women's fertility; women's connectedness of spirit within the rural idyll. It's also the story of the growth of rot as collaboration breaks down; as decay grows within relationships; it's the chilling story of the insidious growth of spite, jealousy, and perfidy, and it all plays out in the media of what Lettie smells, tastes, sees, feels, hears.
In audiobooks, some Northern English accents in the wrong narrator's hands, can often come across as kiddish, somehow simple, and I've shied away from audiobooks narrated in accents from Yorkshire/Northumberland (that's just a personal preference and no reflection upon the regions themselves!). But in 'Foxash', Alex Dunmore speaks as Lettie in the first-person present tense, in vibrant, authentic, and naturalistic Northern speech; which softly folds around Lettie's constant descriptive awareness of her breasts, her genitals, her hair, face and skin. Especially and compusively, Lettie relates how her body is sited in her nightdress.
I found that I repeatedly heard in Lettie's voice echoes of Frances in 'The Paying Guests' (Sarah Waters, coincidentally, provides the endorsement on the cover of 'Foxash'). And just like 'The Paying Guests', the narrative of 'Foxash' comprises a woman's developing inter-relatedness with two persons in a couple with whom she finds herself in close confinement. This is compounded by Lettie's other personal and physical relationship: that with her husband Tommy. In Worsley's novel, both couples exhibit a real sense of attachment to their situation; every small instance of behaviour, a gesture within the shared square of space between the two couples. In the end, we see how every one of those persons' bodies is possessed and consumed by every other person, in some way. This kind of figurative mutual cannibalism also harked back to Sarah Waters' novel. The abortion scene in particular parallelled that in 'The Paying Guests'.
Likewise to Sarah Waters, I would also compare 'Foxash' to Kiran Millwood Hargrave's writing for adults. There is that physiologic claustrophobia and shrinking-down of the female protagonist's world, as is experienced by Hargrave's Maren and Lisbet in 'The Mercies' and 'The Dance Tree' respectively. Here we have Lettie's body buffeted by her surroundings and her interactions with others. For instance, she struggles against 'sheets of crying; buffeting walls of it'. Every interaction with her immediate situation sees Lettie's five senses respond reflexively: '[the] plants [...] sung to me.'
'Foxash' is perhaps the perfect novel: its pacing is sublimely precise; the characters are so perfectly tended and nurtured by the author; and the ending is handled with exquisite skill. It's like the British, prose fiction version of a couple of Robert Frost's best-known poems.
And a considerable part of the success of 'Foxash' for me is Alex Dunmore's performance of the audiobook. She imbues miniscule dips and peaks of emotion; she gestures with her voice as it wavers, gulps, breathes fluctuations in Lettie's inner monologues and dialogue with others. I was entirely caught up in her spellbinding narration.
My great gratitude to Headline Publishing Group Ltd, Whitehouse Sound Ltd, and Tinder Press for the opportunity to review a digital copy of the audiobook, and cite excerpts of the novel in order to review the text.