The setting of Penance (a Northern seaside town in decline), the crux of the plot (what is the truth about a notorious murder that took place seven yeThe setting of Penance (a Northern seaside town in decline), the crux of the plot (what is the truth about a notorious murder that took place seven years ago?), and the format (a mixed-media approach incorporating lots of interviews) all make it feel like a long-lost cousin of the Six Stories series, though here the medium is a true-crime book written by a shifty journalist – think Joseph Knox’s True Crime Story – rather than a podcast. The crime at its centre is the gruesome death of a teenager after she was set on fire by three classmates. Like an ever-growing number of modern novels about murder, it’s concerned with the mechanics of true crime and how ‘true’ it ever really is, though I don’t think Clark’s concern lies as much with the ‘ethics of true crime’ as it does with the messiness of ‘the truth’ and how we come to decide what we believe. What is truth, really, when there is no single tidy, complete version of a story?
But more than that, and above all, it’s a book about teenage girlhood. The plasticity of identities at this age; how friendships can so easily curdle into enmity (or, really, were only ever enmity in the first place). How a strange idea – a piece of local folklore, or something from the internet – can fatefully take hold. How all this continues to define a person for years to come, maybe even forever: as one character says, ‘there’s a bit of you that’s always a teenager, isn’t there?’ And it’s even more specifically about the experience of the late-millennial, borderline-Gen-Z micro-generation whose adolescence coincided with the boom years of Tumblr.
Penance doesn’t quite pack the same punch as Boy Parts because it isn’t driven by a single voice. Yet it’s more immediately a book I want to reread, a book I’m already looking forward to revisiting. I can’t get enough of the method of telling a story like this through a multitude of accounts: when they’re written well (and this is) these are one of my favourite types of books, such an effective way of getting under the skin of a place/community/event/anything, really. Clark also seamlessly folds elements of online culture into the story, something that’s easy to get wrong but here rings true. I’m all for more layered, choral, shifting-truth narratives like this: I love Six Stories, I loved this one (I’d honestly be delighted if this turned into a series as well), I hope it’s huge and sparks off a whole new wave of them.
I received an advance review copy of Penance from the publisher through NetGalley....more
(3.5) When her family move from England to California, Bess transfers into an upper-middle-class private school where she becomes the third wheel to a(3.5) When her family move from England to California, Bess transfers into an upper-middle-class private school where she becomes the third wheel to a couple of established best friends, Joni and Evangeline. While Joni is a garden-variety teenage rebel, Evangeline stands out for being both particularly wealthy and unusually guileless. When they’re all 18, a summer in Greece ends in Evangeline’s death; there’s a media witch-hunt against the other two girls, although they are ultimately cleared of any wrongdoing. Ten years later, Bess is a virtual recluse, while Joni has built a career as a self-help influencer. They have little contact until, one night, Joni turns up on Bess’s doorstep. Her girlfriend is missing – and she wants Bess to lie for her...
I liked Before We Were Innocent, though it doesn’t reinvent the wheel with its tale of a haunted narrator forced to revisit That Fateful Summer. The story unfolds partially through flashbacks as we slowly learn exactly what happened in 2008. This is always a tricky device to manage, as it requires the characters to hold back their own memories in a way people rarely do in reality, but it works fairly well here, partly because we know about Evangeline’s death right from the start. The details ring true – the risqué messages and posed photos seized upon by the media, used to portray the girls as as sex-crazed and sinister. Also, I liked Bess’s constant reassessment of her own and others’ personalities, which gives us more of a window into who she is than anything else.
Overall, it’s a solid summer read, a bit longer than it really should be; you just don’t need 400 pages to tell a story like this. It’s the kind of book that’s a lot more fun to read than a review will make it sound, because certain elements fall apart when you start analysing them. It inevitably reminded me of Cartwheel by Jennifer duBois, which has a lot of the same themes (and clearly similar inspirations) but is a stronger, more literary treatment of the idea....more
Top of my ‘really should’ve read this in 2023’ list and therefore an obvious pick for my January reading plans, Chain-Gang All-Stars is a truly impresTop of my ‘really should’ve read this in 2023’ list and therefore an obvious pick for my January reading plans, Chain-Gang All-Stars is a truly impressive feat of imagination, delivering a horribly believable portrait of near-future dystopia. It switches between a dizzying number of perspectives; the narrative is technically impressive in that there are so many people in this thing – they just keep coming! – yet it’s never difficult to keep track of who’s who. I did find my investment in the outcome slipping towards the end, though I can’t quite decide if that was because the focus narrowed, or the opposite (i.e. not enough detail for me to feel I ‘knew’ the characters), and one promising subplot just seemed to peter out. Nevertheless this is an original and memorably vivid combination of serious ideas and action-movie setpieces....more
I haven’t picked up anything by Lisa Jewell since I read Ralph’s Party as a teenager, but of course my attention was snagged by the fact that her I haven’t picked up anything by Lisa Jewell since I read Ralph’s Party as a teenager, but of course my attention was snagged by the fact that her latest thriller involves a podcast. And I was delighted to find that the hook – the idea that this story, about two very different women who are ‘birthday twins’, ultimately became so wild and horrifying that it was made into a podcast, then a Netflix series – is used brilliantly. It’s impeccably described: I could see the documentary scenes playing out in my mind. Jewell has complete control over the propulsive force of the narrative, hinting just enough at what comes next. I was utterly gripped. But... ultimately, some things about the plot are ill-thought-out and left a really bad taste in my mouth. I can’t give it a higher rating because of that. I might try another of Jewell’s thrillers (in the hope that it isn’t resolved in quite such an offensive/borderline damaging way).
I received an advance review copy of None of This is True from the publisher through Edelweiss....more
At the End of Every Day is set in a curious Disney-esque theme park that’s closing down in a halting, indistinct kind of way; long-time employee DelphAt the End of Every Day is set in a curious Disney-esque theme park that’s closing down in a halting, indistinct kind of way; long-time employee Delphi and her boyfriend Brendan are two of the few remaining staff tasked with completing the shutdown. The blurb promises a dark, literary horror novel ‘about the uncanny valley, death cults, optical illusions and the enduring power of fantasy’, and there’s a bit of that, but too little too late for my taste. Delphi and Brendan are the kind of oddball characters who always test my patience. The way they’re written wobbles all over the line between charming and irritatingly quirky (the whole section about Brendan’s first girlfriend! interminable!) and Delphi in particular seems so vapid and immature I couldn’t help picturing her as a teenager, though the character is definitely supposed to be older. (There’s a... plot twist that arguably explains this, but in some ways only makes it odder.)
All of which makes it even more frustrating that everything about the park is just brilliant. The chapters are punctuated by letters between a brother and sister, discussing the design of an earlier incarnation of the park, and I was fascinated by these – racing through Delphi’s ramblings just so I could get to them. The setting itself is real feat of imagination, described in amazing detail. The cult, the bots, there is so much good stuff here! A lot of potential. Yet when the climactic scenes come, when the narrative actually starts digging into the mysteries of the park, the descriptive language falters; I found I really couldn’t picture what was going on.
The characters and pacing reminded me a lot of A Touch of Jen (and I’d definitely recommend it if you enjoyed that book); elements of the story have shades of Archive 81 and FantasticLand. I liked the concept a lot. And I would still like to read more from the author, ideally short stories with more focus on plot/ideas and less on character.
I received an advance review copy of At the End of Every Day from the publisher through Edelweiss....more
A fun gothic tale about a lonely girl’s attachment to a mysterious teacher, with some of the feverish atmosphere of Picnic at Hanging Rock. Sitting ouA fun gothic tale about a lonely girl’s attachment to a mysterious teacher, with some of the feverish atmosphere of Picnic at Hanging Rock. Sitting outside a Yorkshire market town, ‘Miss Dawson’s seminary for young ladies’ isn’t the most prestigious of boarding schools, but its standards are high enough for farmer’s daughter Ivy to feel out of place. When Miss Emily White arrives, the other students take an instant dislike to her, so Ivy goes the other way, quickly coming to see the new teacher as a friend. This stance becomes increasingly difficult to defend as the girls start to believe Miss White is using occult magic. But what of Ivy herself; is her account all it seems? My one complaint is that the book seems longer than is necessary: incidents are repeated, some scenes drag – this story could have been told in a novella, maybe even a short story. But I had a very good time with it all the same. The setting is impeccably detailed, and there are some great twists and reveals I didn’t see coming....more
I read The Last Language in one fevered session, completely in the grip of the dizzying, queasy moral maze Jennifer duBois has created here. The narroI read The Last Language in one fevered session, completely in the grip of the dizzying, queasy moral maze Jennifer duBois has created here. The narrow perspective is such a clever way to tell this story because it so closely parallels Angela’s facilitated communication with Sam. When all we have is her account, how can we ever know what is true? Who has the ability to decide whether Angela is speaking for the ‘real’ Sam or simply ventriloquising through him? Are her final words defiant denial or a kind of confession? I will be coming back to this one, but for now: wow, what a superb, riveting, disturbing novel. I loved Cartwheel – which, like this, was based on a real-life case – but The Last Language surpasses it.
I received an advance review copy of The Last Language from the publisher through Edelweiss....more
What a wonderful and surprising gem of a book! I came for the combination of a ‘lost film’ plot and elements of horror – a recipe guaranteed to snag mWhat a wonderful and surprising gem of a book! I came for the combination of a ‘lost film’ plot and elements of horror – a recipe guaranteed to snag my interest – but I stayed for the incredibly well-researched portrait of old Hollywood, the brilliantly world-weary heroine, and the fascinating detective story. In the framing narrative, set in 1967, a man arrives at a middle-of-nowhere desert hotel in search of a legendary silent horror film, The Devil’s Playground. For most of the book, though, we’re with studio ‘fixer’ Mary Rourke in 1927 as she experiences the Devil’s Playground curse first-hand, starting with the death of leading lady Norma Carlton. This is an elaborately plotted historical mystery, rich in fascinating detail; the horror stuff is fun, but – surprisingly – far from my favourite thing about the story. One of those books I enjoyed so much that I immediately bought another of the author’s novels (The Devil Aspect) and am so looking forward to getting stuck in.
I received an advance review copy of The Devil’s Playground from the publisher through Edelweiss....more
A fun and cute YA take on the podcast thriller, with two friends reinvestigating the 1999 disappearance of a local girl for a journalism project. The A fun and cute YA take on the podcast thriller, with two friends reinvestigating the 1999 disappearance of a local girl for a journalism project. The characterisation is very broad-brush, the bad guys glaringly obvious from the start, and the social justice talking points (mostly delivered via implausible lecture-like dialogue from a character who seems to have been created entirely for this purpose) about as subtle as a sledgehammer – but to be fair, I am not the target audience for this book. And when Clarissa’s contemporaries get their chance to talk about her, there are some beautifully written passages about youth, nostalgia, potential and small-town life. This was a nice easy read for a long journey, though I doubt I’ll read the sequel....more
The Ugly Truth is a mixed-media novel about a model/influencer’s disappearance from the public eye and the question of whether her hotel-mogul father The Ugly Truth is a mixed-media novel about a model/influencer’s disappearance from the public eye and the question of whether her hotel-mogul father is keeping her prisoner. It’s told largely through transcripts – of a Netflix documentary about Melanie Lange, and interviews with her father – with a few other formats (emails, tweets) thrown into the mix. I’d normally eat this up, but here I wasn’t all that interested in getting to the end of the story. It wasn’t until I scanned some other lukewarm reviews, Emily May’s in particular, that I figured out why: it’s really quite boring and flat. North cherry-picks incidents from the lives of various tortured celebs; perhaps because of that – because it’s just rehashing real stories – it never gets exciting. All the voices are too similar, and they don’t read like transcripts of people speaking aloud. When Melanie’s journal entries are added to the narrative, they don’t gel with what we’ve been told about her (if you want me to believe your main character is a borderline genius and ace entrepreneur as well as one of the most beautiful women alive, her voice had better demonstrate some of that brilliance. It also strangely goes unexamined that her business model sounds like a Ponzi/MLM scheme). It really can’t stick the landing, either. The final ‘twist’ feels cheap and grim rather than shocking, and the conclusion to the documentary is so unconvincing that I almost started laughing when I read it.
Unfortunately, however, I am addicted to mixed-media narratives. I still enjoyed the format of this if nothing else, and I’m still interested in reading North’s forthcoming (similarly structured) novel, Clickbait, which I’m hoping will improve on some of the problems here. So, as it sold me on something else by the author, job done, I guess!...more
Paula Cocozza is a master of suburban tragedy, and this second novel an interesting companion to How to Be Human, her uniquely memorable debut. Speak Paula Cocozza is a master of suburban tragedy, and this second novel an interesting companion to How to Be Human, her uniquely memorable debut. Speak to Me starts off as the tale of a woman, Susan, who’s convinced she’s losing her husband to his phone. She’s determined to separate Kurt from the device she calls ‘Wendy’, going as far as to hide and destroy multiple phones (even as she seems to have little idea what to say to Kurt once he’s phoneless). Yet Susan has her own preoccupation with an inanimate object: a case full of old love letters that went missing when she and Kurt moved to their current home in a soulless new-build estate. As Susan’s twin quests – to triumph over ‘Wendy’, and to get the case back – gather pace, she’s forced into a painful reckoning with her past.
The narrative is strongly voice-driven, with Susan’s pain, anger, pettiness and bone-dry wit ringing out from the page. I have never really been a fan of ‘person inexplicably obsessed with an ex from years ago’ stories, and this book tested my patience a bit in that regard; I got to a point where the mere mention of Antony’s name was enough to make me roll my eyes. As much as the reader understands that the obsession (like Susan’s missing case) is symbolic, it feels like a step down from How to Be Human, in which a similarly unsettled protagonist’s primary obsession is with a fox – a weirder, more engaging way of tackling the same idea. As both books are about a woman unravelling as she develops a fixation with something, it’s hard not to compare them; measured against the powerful dread summoned up by the disturbing images and maddening scenes in Human, all the emotions in Speak to Me feel dampened. Though it is a recognisable as a manifestation of profound unhappiness, I was exasperated by Susan’s inertia, and it never feels like she gets to the bottom of who she is or what she wants. While I didn’t expect a neat resolution (and indeed understand that this is the tragedy of Susan’s story), such lack of insight is frustrating in a character-centric novel. Mixed feelings overall: Cocozza’s writing is excellent but Susan’s world, past and present, is portrayed so joylessly I found this a dispiriting read.
I received an advance review copy of Speak to Me from the publisher through NetGalley....more
After the death of her twin brother, a young Italian woman travels to Shanghai, where she loses herself in the immense city and the immensity of her gAfter the death of her twin brother, a young Italian woman travels to Shanghai, where she loses herself in the immense city and the immensity of her grief. Mostly alone, she wanders the streets and adopts her brother’s name, Ruben, subsuming her own identity. Then she begins a relationship with an enigmatic woman named Xu. Xu dominates the self-hating ‘Ruben’ both emotionally and physically, and the book’s central metaphor – Ruben’s willingness to be consumed – is writ large in Xu’s penchant for biting and the strange role of food in their sex life. Di Grado writes a fast-paced narrative stuffed with dizzying images of Shanghai (especially its architecture) and poignant evocations of loss. It’s not exactly a stream of consciousness, but it feels a little like one. Actually, it feels a bit like a number of things it isn’t: a dystopia, an elegy, a crooked love story.
While the grief theme is familiar from Di Grado’s previous novels, the reflections on trying to live in a different language and culture reminded me of Polly Barton’s memoir Fifty Sounds, and the more bizarre aspects of the central relationship made me think this might appeal to those who loved Children of Paradise....more
Flux is a novel as dazzling and stylish as its bright-yellow cover. It’s a time-travel mystery filtered through its central character’s obsession withFlux is a novel as dazzling and stylish as its bright-yellow cover. It’s a time-travel mystery filtered through its central character’s obsession with a 1980s neo-noir detective show, and it also involves a suspiciously inert tech company led by a wunderkind entrepreneur (yes, there are Elizabeth Holmes/Theranos vibes here) – but at is heart is a story about family, grief, identity. Once the book hit its stride, I could hardly bear to tear myself away from it. Three narratives, each as compelling as the next, entwine to fantastic effect. The writing is excellent; the plot is beautifully structured and the details frequently unexpected, with the overall result reminding me of The Gone World, Reprieve and John Darnielle’s books. Equally thrilling and thoughtful.
I received an advance review copy of Flux from the publisher through NetGalley....more
Unpopular opinion time. I really wanted to love this, but I was often bored. As much as I appreciated the writing (lucid, precise), basically the entiUnpopular opinion time. I really wanted to love this, but I was often bored. As much as I appreciated the writing (lucid, precise), basically the entirety of Leigh’s story – more than 80% of the book – feels like exposition. We are close to her, yet she is still a blank slate. I think In Ascension would appeal to anyone who loved The Moonday Letters, and vice versa, as I came to the same conclusion about both: each book is impressive in its worldbuilding and vision as a work of speculative fiction, but frustratingly sterile and lacking in anything recognisable as real emotion....more
’Tis very much NOT the season, but I needed a pick-me-up and this was irresistible. Don’t expect the intricacy of The Appeal; this is a relatively sim’Tis very much NOT the season, but I needed a pick-me-up and this was irresistible. Don’t expect the intricacy of The Appeal; this is a relatively simple, charming mystery (again mainly in emails) revisiting some of the same characters, with a few gently funny moments. That said, it was more substantial than the short story I was expecting. Fun!
I received an advance review copy of The Christmas Appeal from the publisher through Edelweiss....more
(3.5) I adored Sarah Bernstein’s debut, The Coming Bad Days. This second novel is written in a similarly distinctive style – opening lines: It was the(3.5) I adored Sarah Bernstein’s debut, The Coming Bad Days. This second novel is written in a similarly distinctive style – opening lines: It was the year the sow eradicated her piglets. It was a swift and menacing time. The plot, such as it is, is broader in scope, or maybe it’s just that it’s a little more unfocused, or felt that way to me. The narrator is a woman who sees her life as having been defined by obedience to her ‘many’ older siblings. In keeping with that, when her eldest brother asks her to stay with him in an Anna Kavan-esque ‘remote northern country’, she acquiesces without question. From there it unfurls in several directions: the brother’s ailing health, the suspicion of the locals, a thread of what seems like folk horror, and ultimately, a sort of reckoning with the weight of history. As in in Bad Days I found the writing very striking, but these pithy, glacial sentences are most successful when the narrative concentrates on the personal; less so when applied to bigger themes. A book for those who appreciate the eerie and ambiguous – it reminded me (again) of Fleur Jaeggy, and also Marie NDiaye’s That Time of Year.
I received an advance review copy of Study for Obedience from the publisher through NetGalley....more
Unputdownable, but very difficult to review. Full of secrets. A novel that sort-of-is, sort-of-isn’t horror, perhaps best described as a contemporary,Unputdownable, but very difficult to review. Full of secrets. A novel that sort-of-is, sort-of-isn’t horror, perhaps best described as a contemporary, meta gothic romance. It’s a story about murder that deals with the long shadow it casts. It’s about writing and witchcraft, unrequited love, the death of the author, and not being able to move on from things that happened, or things you felt, when you were very young. Broke my heart a bit. My favourite of Ward’s books since Rawblood. Recommended.
I received an advance review copy of Looking Glass Sound from the publisher through NetGalley....more
(3.5) I’d been saving a bunch of ‘holiday books’ (easy reads set in summer and/or abroad, mainly thrillers) until I actually went on a holiday; The Vi(3.5) I’d been saving a bunch of ‘holiday books’ (easy reads set in summer and/or abroad, mainly thrillers) until I actually went on a holiday; The Villa was the first of these I read while away, and definitely the best. It has a similar setup to The Writing Retreat, and also reminded me of The Witch in the Well: the frenemy relationship, the premise of a blocked writer holing up in a big gothic house in the hope of making progress on a book she’s barely started, flashbacks to another fraught period in the villa’s history. Initially, I found the chapters about modern-day friends Emily and Chess far more absorbing than the 1970s scenes featuring teenage writer Mari and her rock-star boyfriend. With a lot of plot and a swiftly paced narrative, the 70s characters do end up feeling a bit thin. It all eventually comes together, though, and I thoroughly enjoyed the twisty ending. Plus, the vivid, colourfully imagined setting is just what you want from a book called The Villa....more