Blair's Reviews > Death of a Bookseller

From the moment I started reading Death of a Bookseller, I was absolutely lost to the story – sucked down into it so completely I couldn’t think about anything else. Alice Slater has written a novel that sinks in its teeth and refuses to let go; I buzzed for days after finishing it.

Roach has worked at a beleaguered branch of Spines, a chain of bookshops, since she was a teenager. Solitary and obsessed with true crime (specifically the killers rather than the victims, whose stories she generally finds boring), Roach scoffs at ‘normies’ and spends much of her time listening to podcasts about famous murders. When a new team are brought in to reverse the shop’s fortunes, she meets a very different type of bookseller: the wholesome, stylish, friendly Laura. Fixating on the fact that Laura also reads about serial killers and writes poetry with dark themes, Roach starts fantasising about a friendship. But the two women’s clashing views about the ethics surrounding true crime turn Laura against her... something Roach is very reluctant to accept.

The narrative switches between the perspectives of the two main characters – a surprise to me, as from the blurb I’d assumed Roach would tell the whole story. At first, I was sceptical: could Laura’s viewpoint possibly be as interesting as Roach’s cynical, scathing voice? Would the story become lopsided? But Laura’s chapters bring a depth and complexity to her character that ultimately unlocks the power of the story.

Sometimes Roach sounds like such an insufferable not-like-other-girls, sometimes Laura sounds like a tryhard London literary type – there are points where both of them will make you roll your eyes. Yet as dark as Roach’s story gets, it’s hard not to extend compassion to her, because the narrative is always extending compassion to her too. It’s the same thing with Laura: she’s often an absolute mess, and we see how her behaviour parallels Roach’s in ways she’d no doubt be reluctant to admit – but we get why. If at first it seems clear that Roach is the dark and Laura the light, somewhere along the line both characters are painted such similar shades of grey that they blend and bleed into each other.

Something I also want to mention, that might easily get lost amid the irresistible momentum of the plot, is the power of the settings. I particularly loved Roach and Laura’s workplace, the bookshop itself. I could truly feel the atmosphere of the place: both cosy and decrepit. The story unfolds in the run-up to Christmas, and the writing absolutely nails the magic and the horror of being wrapped up in non-stop work at that time of year. (It’s also so good on the specifics of working in retail that it unlocked memories I hadn’t thought about for over a decade.)

My literary recipe for Death of a Bookseller would involve: the razor-sharp character studies and themes of obsession and envy in Looker and Kiss Me First; the heady atmosphere of The Poison Tree; the deliciously nasty underbelly of Boy Parts and Eileen; and the spiralling, unstable mood of Animals or Problems – especially as the story reaches its climax and the protagonists seem bound for disaster.

This is, naturally, a bookseller’s book. But it’s also for anyone who considers themselves a reader; likes true crime; anyone who hates it, or is disdainful towards it; anyone who has ever worked in a shop, or in customer service. And it’s also stealthily a book about grief. Like its characters, Death of a Bookseller contains more layers and subtleties you might first assume. This is a thrilling story of obsession with a dark, sticky soul – and it’s also so much more.

I received an advance review copy of Death of a Bookseller from the publisher, Hodder & Stoughton.