review: Nightbloom

Women’s Prize 10/16 ¹

In Peace Adzo Medie’s Nightbloom, cousins and childhood friends Akorfa and Selasi grow up and apart in Ghana before reconnecting in adulthood. It’s a story of perspectives and diverging life paths, told first through Akorfa’s eyes and then turned upside down as Selasi takes over the narration. Akorfa is an only child with two doting parents and financial fortune. Her goals align with her family’s, and she excels at school. She loses sight of Selasi after Selasi’s mother dies in childbirth; as a consequence of this tragedy, Selasi loses her main source of support. The girls go their separate ways as teenagers due to overwhelming differences, but discover as adults a shared secret hardship that may help to bridge the hurt that has grown between them.

Nightbloom explores connection and separation, the ways cultural values can shape a life for better and for worse. It’s a tale of love and loss, and of the particular traumas women face when men are not held accountable even within the bounds of their own cultural mores.

Though I appreciated the shift in perspective here, the format ultimately didn’t work for me. The long opening section of Akorfa’s POV, while interesting, feels somewhat aimless. Even for the observant reader who notes that more is going on than meets the eye, Akorfa’s view is too limited to grant any deeper access into unfolding events; there’s not enough to read into to give this story an extra hook. Contrastingly, Selasi’s section makes quickly clear that Akorfa’s family are not seeing her situation correctly or responding appropriately to it, which shatters readers’ earlier assumptions and carries fresh meaning into familiar moments of the girls’ shared story; but Selasi’s section is a one-trick pony that keeps hitting that same point over and over. Though the girls’ lives are far from boring, I spent much of their individual just impatiently waiting for the short final section to let me know what the lesson might be.

My discontent with the pacing here is probably related to the fact that I am not a reader who especially likes slow-paced slice-of-life fiction, which much of this novel presents as. I prefer to be constantly challenged and surprised, which is not what this book is trying to do (fair!). Any reader who is just looking to connect with a character and follow their journey wherever it leads will likely find better momentum with this one- if that’s you I would definitely recommend it, Medie is certainly a skilled writer and her characters do feel very real and sympathetic. Nightbloom doesn’t have any major flaws or red flags- it does have some sensitive subject matter (SA) but deals with it appropriately; it’s structurally sound; it’s rich in themes of family and friendship; and it seems like (I’m no expert but learned a lot here) a very worthwhile exploration of Ghanaian life and culture, highlighting one electric friendship within those bounds.

“But while being in America had cracked open the cage, it had not freed me from the prison of Ghanaian expectations. I had taken jaunts outside […] but those were anomalies, points of discomfiture. Because I was most at peace when I agreed with them- especially my mother, when our desires and intentions aligned. Being comfortable when we disagreed would mean rejecting what I’d been taught about respecting my parents, trusting that they wanted the best for me and would make it happen, making them proud. It would mean that I was beginning to forget that while I belonged to myself, I also belonged to them. I was I, but I was also them.”

My reaction: 3 out of 5 stars. I think I’m appreciating Nightbloom more as something to ruminate over after finishing than I did while actually reading. However, I still have another book by this author on my TBR that I haven’t changed my mind about wanting to pick up, and as that premise intrigues me more from the go I think it might in the end be more to my taste. Even a different format here might have helped Nightbloom align more with my taste, so I very much think this is a case of “right author wrong book” for me and wouldn’t hesitate to put this one in the hands of a different audience. I’m not surprised this one didn’t make the shortlist, but still glad to have read it.

Have you read this one? What did you think?

1. (I’m slightly out of order here, but keeping the reviews labelled to match my reading order. 9 will be up next.) ↩︎

review: The Wren, The Wren

Women’s Prize 7/16

My favorite method of reading is to forget everything I know about a book before I start reading, and discover the story page by page with as few expectations as possible for what it’s “about” or where it’s going. I think it speaks volumes of Anne Enright’s The Wren, The Wren that, managing to successfully forget its premise before starting, I was fully engrossed for at least 2/3 of the text here before I had *any* real idea of The Point, and I still immensely enjoyed every moment of that confusion.

The Wren, The Wren follows three generations within one Irish family; starting with the youngest, we see first a modern woman freelancing in the internet age, falling in love with a disastrous man and searching blindly for her future. Up next is her mother, happily single and entirely devoted to her daughter, though still struggling with the loss of her brilliant but abusive father and not without her own faults. It is not, however, until we see the man himself up close- the poet, the legend- that the pieces really begin to fall into place.

This is a family saga, the story of a man who burned bright at great cost to those who loved him, and the reclaiming of their own name by the women who follow behind. It’s a poignant, gorgeous look at changing power structures, at the ripple effect of greatness and great arrogance. At who has the freedom to make mistakes. But perhaps most significantly, it’s delightfully poetic.

I’ll admit, I think I have pretty simple taste in poetry and don’t read from the genre often, but I do know know to revel at well-placed words and the power of packing wide meaning into a small space. the (original!) poems interspersed within the text here I found both compelling in their own right, and perfect accompaniment to the overall narrative- no trite filler here. I read and reread many of the poems, and was even inspired to seek out again some of my old favorite verses- always a win when a book sparks further reading!

“We don’t walk down the same street as the person walking beside us. All we can do is tell the other person what we see. We can point at things and try to name them. If we do this well, our friend can look at the world in a new way. We can meet.“

Ultimately this was a quieter novel than I tend to prefer, but Enright had me hooked from the first page. I won’t be forgetting this story or the beauty it reminded me to look for in the world, any time soon. I’m happy seeing this one on the WP shortlist!

My reaction: 4 out of 5 stars. I’ve read one previous novel from Enright, also thanks to the Women’s Prize: Actress. In both experiences it was the writing that swayed me more than the story, but overall I did prefer this one as I did feel a bit more invested in the characters and thought the poetry focus really allowed Enright’s craft to shine in a way that felt built-in to the novel rather than merely a side perk. I can see The Wren, The Wren having a bit of a niche, literary/poetry audience, but I think it does what it sets out to very well. Based on this experience, I would definitely read from the author again.

review: In Defence of the Act

Women’s Prize for Fiction 6/16

Effie Black’s In Defence of the Act digs into a difficult subject: the ways we cope with suicide, particularly when losing a close relative or friend. Our MC is a scientist, exploring her own feelings while working on a pet project: a study of spiders that she would like to prove accept their own deaths willingly as a means of bettering the community they are leaving behind; and if this phenomenon exists elsewhere in nature, why not in human nature too? This preoccupation stems from her own complicated web of emotions around family and friends who have died or tried to; but as the book progresses, we come to understand along with Jessica that her stance is flawed and her regrets are not exactly what she assumed them to be.

Given that the book begins with a controversial premise and cynical narrator, I expected a hard-hitting read. However, due in part to its brevity and our MC’s contradictory thoughts, this book never quite hit that mark for me. Told in short retrospective vignettes with periodic flashes from a looming funeral running throughout, the story didn’t allow me to spend enough time with the various characters (several of whom are confined to their own chapters) to view them as more than cardboard cutouts and build effective empathy for the losses. The framework feels somewhat like a scientists’ logbook approach: data recorded with clear lines drawn between causes and effects, but Jessica is the only emotional point of connection for the reader and she soon proves unreliable, her behavior showing value in saved lives that her internal monologue struggles to reconcile or even recognize.

Though I would’ve liked more time with many of them, I did appreciate the range of relationships explored here: parental, sibling, friendly, and romantic (including LGBTQ+ rep!). I also appreciated the overlap of personal and professional interests- the ways that our MC’s emotional history drives her studies and career, which in turn feed her opinions and emotional responses. I appreciated less the unexplained sans-serif font, and was downright disappointed by Jessica’s simplistic, avoidant, and baby-centric conclusions after a lifetime of grappling over questions of death.

While I didn’t necessarily want a novel arguing for suicide, I did want to be challenged and at least mildly devastated, neither of which occurred for this reader. I don’t think In Defence of the Act is a bad book by any means and will likely touch many who agree with its ultimate sentiments, but it’s not as bold in the end as it sets out to be.

“We all decide which bits of our lives have meaning and consequence, which bits to hold on to and use as a guide. I held onto the wrong thing for too long. There’s too much at stake now.”

My reaction: 3 out of 5 stars. This book had a lot of potential, but the abrupt change in direction that it took ultimately wasn’t the right fit for me. I might go so far as to call it a disservice to the rest of the book, but I can appreciate that other readers are finding some positivity in the face of despair here, something that I don’t want to begrudge anyone, so I’ll leave off with simply saying I don’t think Black’s work suits my personal tastes. I’m glad I gave this one a chance but also relieved to see six different titles on the WP shortlist.

Have you read this one? I’d love to see your thoughts!

WP, short version

It’s time! The Women’s Prize for Fiction has recently announced their shortlist, advancing six books from the longlist of sixteen.

I’ve completed 7 longlist reads so far and am currently working through my 8th; I’m 2 reviews behind here but they are written, so those will be coming up imminently! I took a longlist hiatus earlier this month which set me back a bit but felt good. I’m reinvested now and ready to knock out the rest of the longlist before the winner announcement on June 13th.

As for the shortlist, I’ve read 2 of these titles so far and am currently reading my 3rd. Let’s take a closer look at the list:

Brotherless Night by V. V. Ganeshananthan has been my favorite from the longlist so far, and the book I most wanted to see here! I thought this was incredibly well-written and moving, and I’m thrilled to see it being recognized with a spot on the shortlist. It’s a heavy recent-history read featuring the Sri Lankan civil war; I highly recommend it and have been hoping to see it take the win ever since I picked it up blindly to kick off my longlist reading this year. (Obviously I still have a several books left to read so that could certainly change, but it would take an impressive story to do so!)

The Wren, The Wren by Anne Enright was my most recent longlist read; it’s a book I adored more than I expected to and I’m happy to see it made the cut. This is a very quiet and largely plotless novel following three generations of an Irish family, well-crafted and beautifully poetic; an impressive literary work packed with original poems. Every word is in exactly the right place and I couldn’t help being hooked by the language from the first page. I’ve read from Enright before (Actress also got a good rating from me), but I enjoyed this one even more.

Enter Ghost by Isabella Hammad is my current read, and one I’ve been most excited about from the longlist! It’s off to a good start for me featuring an actress visiting her sister in Haifa and recruited to a West Bank production of Hamlet; I’ve seen a lot of support for this one since it’s publication, so I have high hopes for the rest of my experience with it and am pleased at its advancement. (As with the rest of the books that I haven’t finished reading at this point, I will have more info and thoughts to share in upcoming reviews.)

Soldier Sailor by Claire Kilroy – Readers seem to be loving this one and I’m unsurprised to see it here; I’m very particular about motherhood books but this one landed on my tbr previous to even seeing this year’s longlist, so I’m cautiously optimistic and can appreciate that its inclusion on the shortlist is being well-received by many. I’ve had a couple of experiences now with feeling blindsided by longlisted books that uplift the importance of motherhood when that wasn’t the direction I expected from the read (not that there’s anything wrong with motherhood of course, but as a childless woman I do appreciate other themes having room to breathe); I do like that this book, centering a mother/son relationship- and the shortlist as a whole, to the best of my knowledge- seems more direct in its intent.

River East, River West by Aube Rey Lescure is a book I feel totally neutral about at this point; I’ve seen some middling reviews but personally don’t have any hang-ups about it going in and am content with the extra nudge to pick this up soon. I remember absolutely nothing about the premise atm but that’s the way I like to start, so I’ll reach for this soon.

Restless Dolly Maunder by Kate Grenville is my biggest shortlist surprise, though perhaps that’s unfair as I’ve not yet read any Grenville and therefore have nothing to judge by but vibes. I did buy this one and love the foliage/florals of the endpapers, so for that very arbitrary reason I’m glad that its placement here is upping my intrigue in the story (an Australian historical fiction tale) as well.

Of the books I’ve read so far, I appreciated each of the reads but didn’t particularly expect to see more of them advance. If I had given it more thought, I might have predicted And Then She Fell for the shortlist, which wasn’t a perfect fit for me but did offer a lot to admire that I thought might appeal more to other readers. I continue to love Western Lane but it did have its Booker moment already and finding new titles is one of the best parts of following prizes. I quite enjoyed The Blue Beautiful World, but seeing a sci-fi title on the longlist is rare enough and I couldn’t see it having wide enough appeal to land on the shortlist despite its impressive craftsmanship. Ordinary Human Failings and In Defence of the Act appeared in many shortlist predictions on my radar; I’m happy they’ve found their audiences but personally am happy to leave both on the longlist.

The three I most wanted to see advance were Brotherless Night, Enter Ghost, and The Wren, The Wren, so I’m three for three with my wishlist and very content with that. I now have extra excitement for the three shortlist books I have yet to touch, none of which were particularly calling to me yesterday and all of which now appear a bit shinier; I also don’t mind that a few other titles I was most looking forward to reading from the longlist (Hangman and 8 Lives of a Century-Old Trickster, for example) didn’t make the cut, as that leaves me still enthused about finishing the entire longlist.

Once I’ve completed all sixteen books I’ll do an overall ranking, winner prediction, and share whether any of my thoughts have changed- whether I’m still pleased with the shortlist or feeling less enchanted about the longlist as a whole; while I never expect every book on the Women’s Prize to cater to my particular reading tastes, I do generally tend to have a good time trusting the judges and expanding my reading life, and this longlist is no exception. It’s fun to push myself, to see what other readers are loving (or not), and feel like part of a somewhat niche community.

So tell me below- are you reading the Women’s Prize this year, in part or full? What do you think of the shortlist? What do you think will win???

review: The Blue, Beautiful World

Women’s Prize for Fiction: 4/16

I was actually reading another book, picked up Karen Lord’s The Blue, Beautiful World just to check out the first few pages, and couldn’t put it down!

I love seeing a bit of genre fare featured on the WP list; this one’s a sci-fi/speculative First Contact tale, although even the book’s characters are quick to admit that’s a bit of a misnomer, as it’s the first known contact from the Earth human perspective, while in face intergalactic life has been hiding in plain sight on the planet for years.

It’s a well-considered plot with a very plausible feel, peppered with cool tech, unique ideas, and a wide range of fascinating characters (including alien POVs!). Despite feeling fully immersed very quickly, this was a slower read for me, weighted with a plethora of names (the characters are many and some use more than one name), interrelated and elaborate plot lines, and detailed histories and politics to juggle; but it’s not impenetrable even for the reader who doesn’t often reach for sci-fi. Although 3rd in a larger series, The Blue, Beautiful World reads fine as a standalone; all context needed is provided in these pages and there are no visible gaps left open from information provided in earlier volumes.

Things I liked:

• the diverse cast (including nonbinary rep)!
• the immersive quality, even while frequently shifting perspectives and settings present their own challenge
• the sense of discovery; without losing the book’s monumental feel, the stakes rarely feel deadly and immediate, appealing to the reader’s sense of wonder rather than falling into a more predictable “us vs them” dichotomy
• the possibility of peace- of course other possibilities also loom, but it’s refreshing to see that threats and war might not be the first priority
• the reminder that our world and wider galaxy is still a place full of mystery and possibility, even in hard times

However, while I found much to enjoy and admire here, I just didn’t have a high enough level of emotional engagement with either the writing (which is smart and descriptive) or the characters, which might have tipped this read into the 5-star range for me.

“Sometimes a hero, or an angel, isn’t much more than a person trying their best to do the job they’ve been sent to do.”

My reaction: 4 out of 5 stars. Ultimately, I don’t know that I’ll be remembering this one strongly or often, but I did enjoy the time I spent with it and I think it adds an interesting and worthy angle to the WP list on what it means to be a woman and a human in the modern world. I would definitely consider reading more from this author in the future.

Have you read this one, or are you interested? Are there any other First Contact books you’d particularly recommend?

review: Ordinary Human Failings

Women’s Prize for Fiction: 3/16

Megan Nolan’s Ordinary Human Failings is going to be a bit challenging for me to talk about because while I can admire the skill behind it and see how others (particularly the Paul Murray Bee Sting crowd I think) will love it, it’s just not my type.

The story starts on a note of promising suspense with a young mother still longing for the affair that produced her child, while remaining uninterested in the child herself. The girl, age 10, is accused of a heinous crime, the entire family implicated behind the scenes. Running parallel to this disaster, we also follow a slimy try-hard reporter looking to take advantage of the situation for his own profit, at the family’s expense. It’s a shocking and effective set-up.

But from here, the story goes several directions that failed to hold my interest.

First, this is in its own way a motherhood story, offering a few perspectives that I think are important, especially regarding women’s health care issues. However, it isn’t a topic that I’m currently drawn to in my reading, so I struggled.

In addition, this book is a rippling family saga, in which the history of every person in the household is recounted in retrospect, the lives slotting together seamlessly and ruinously. Again, I can see a lot of readers appreciating this part of the narrative more than I did; it’s engaging and insightful enough, though I found the characters’ backgrounds entirely unsurprising, and knowing where the characters end up by the time these histories are recalled renders them a bit tedious.

There’s also the matter of the underlying theme of “ordinary human failings,” which I interpreted to be the personal challenges many of us face in our lives, the momentous but largely ignored obstacles that society seems to expect us to just get on with- like missing parental figures, alcoholism, teen pregnancy, lost love. Points of pain that could be handled with support, or prove disastrous if left unaddressed. I wanted the book to push harder at the term “ordinary,” not only to suggest that it’s human for us to struggle with things beyond our control, but to really advocate for the importance of removing societal shames and general lack of aid/understanding that stand in the way of people getting needed life-altering help. I think Nolan is on to something here and portrays it beautifully, but I’m a fan of a sharper critique, personally.

“Really, who would care about a family like theirs? Theirs were ordinary human failings, tragedies too routine to be of note.”

My reaction: 3 out of 5 stars. I’m sure Ordinary Human Failings will find a rapt audience and I don’t begrudge reading it; I’ve even added Nolan’s previous novel to my TBR as I did like her writing and suspect another plot may be more my style. I think this one will work better for others and don’t want to discourage anyone drawn to the synopsis, but I just didn’t like it as much as I’d hoped to.

Have you read this one, or does it catch your interest? Let me know in the comments!

review: Brotherless Night

Women’s Prize for Fiction 2024: 2/16

I picked up V. V. Ganeshananthan’s Brotherless Night by default- it was the only WP longlister that I could get my hands on quickly. But now I can say confidently that I wouldn’t have wanted to start my WP reading any other way: this book is fantastic. Sharply written, brutal, unflinching, and unforgettable.

This is the story of a young Sri Lankan Tamil woman with a crush and a dream of becoming a doctor at a time when riots and civil war break out across her city and country. The book opens with a mention of terrorism, and between its first page and its last it contains immense horror and sadness as our MC’s family are swallowed up like so many others into the belly of this war. Scenes of cruelty and violence are juxtaposed with the narrator’s sweet memories and longings from simpler times, when her family was whole and loving and her world imperfect but full of possibility and happiness. Her life should have gone very differently. In another world, this would have been a love story, playing out to a backdrop of career success. But in this world, it’s a tale of loss, heartbreak, and massive civilian casualties. A very dark coming-of-age tale.

Three things particularly stood out to me about this book:

1- the history, of course. This is historical fiction done right, making full use of its setting and political background to deliver a plot that feels educational, but always personal and never textbook; I finished the read feeling more informed, but by no means exhausted on the topic. Luckily my copy included a lengthy list of further recommendations! I highly recommend checking out the extra content that may be included with your text if you pick this book up, I found the author’s note, interview, reading list, and discussion questions just as worthwhile as the story itself.

2- the 2nd person address: notoriously hard to pull off but endlessly impressive when it does land well. I don’t normally like being reminded that I’m reading while I am in fact reading, but it’s an effective move here. Our MC/narrator is using this story to explain what she’s witnessed in Sri Lanka and how her perspective of events differs from what is commonly portrayed by media and propoganda. She is very aware of whom she is explaining herself to, of whether that audience already understands certain facets of her experience and whether (or not) she actually owes the reader any sort of explanation at all. It keeps the uninformed reader humble without alienating those more knowledgeable, raising questions about why we read or believe the stories that we do, and reminding us that ours is never the only perspective.

3- the relevance of current events. Much in the same way that Prophet Song (Paul Lynch’s Booker winner for 2023) hit me hard last year, I think it is impossible to read a book today like Brotherless Night, very tied to it’s own place and time, and without seeing present-day echoes. Which is not to say that every conflict involving local terrorism and civilian casualties between government and militant groups is at all the same, but rather that in the intervening years (1980’s-now) we, as a world, should have learned to respond to such situations differently. Better. If there is a singular message to take away from Brotherless Night, I think it is that many of us CAN choose a different path, even if it is harder; we can do something else, we can do something more.

“You must understand: there is no single day on which a war begins. The conflict will collect around you gradually, the way carrion birds assemble around the vulnerable, until there are so many predators that the object of their hunger is not even visible. You will not even be able to see yourself in the gathering crowd of those who would kill you.”

My reaction: 5 out of 5 stars. Definitely check trigger warnings for this one, as it’s fraught with all sorts of peril, but I would highly recommend picking it up if you’re able. It’s an incredibly moving story of civilian strife and the strength of women in times of war, specifically the Sri Lankan civil war through the 1980s. I’m definitely adding further reading to my TBR thanks to Brotherless Night, and will be keeping an eye out for more work from Ganeshanathan as well; she does have one previous publication, Love Marriage, which I may also check out on the strength of her writing.

Have you read this one? What did you think?