How the One-Armed Sister Sweeps Her House is a story set in Barbados about generational cycles of abuse, misogynShortlisted for the Women’s Prize 2021
How the One-Armed Sister Sweeps Her House is a story set in Barbados about generational cycles of abuse, misogyny and subjugated women. One of the characters becomes a great-grandmother at 46 years of age (that fact tells you a lot about the kind of story this is).
This book’s traumas are so relentless—incest; viscerally brutal beatings; an incident you might call infanticide via neglect. There is really no light with the shade here, not that you necessarily need light and shade to tell a sad story. The never letting up is precisely the point this novel is making. And I have no doubt this is (tragically) true-to-life for many women out there.
But in a work of fiction, this has the effect of flattening everything about the characters to this aspect of their experience. I was never less than 100% conscious that I was reading about invented people, sketches on a page who only exist in order to show me this violence. It was a barrier between me and the characters that only grew, brick by brick, as each awful, violent incident unfolded.
As for technical merit, my only criticism is that the novel is a little imbalanced. It’s very clearly Lala’s story; hers is the narrative you become invested in. Mira initially appears to be a counterweight to Lala, they are two women from similar backgrounds whose fates led them in different directions. But by the end, Mira’s story has not developed enough to fulfil this function, and she lands awkwardly: something more than a background character in Lala’s story, yet less than equal co-protagonist.
This novel is well-written and constructed, an intense, difficult read. Perhaps even suffocating in its intensity. For many it will prove to be a worthwhile experience, just proceed with caution....more
Utterly brilliant. The most shocking thing about A Shock is that there isn’t more hype about it! Hopefully thShortlisted for the Goldsmiths Prize 2021
Utterly brilliant. The most shocking thing about A Shock is that there isn’t more hype about it! Hopefully that will change with some steady word-of-mouth because A Shock is a delight and a marvel.
It has a familiar structure: a novel-in-linked-stories set within a neighbourhood or community, in this case Camberwell in South London. Characters from one chapter reappear as bit players in others; paths cross; there are lots of fun ‘spot the connections’ for the reader.
As promised by the book’s title, each of the story-chapters contains ‘a shock’—not a twist and not a big dramatic turn either—but a jolt of surprise, a little zap of something unexpected. And even though you notice the pattern, learn to expect it, the effect never dulls. The ‘shock’ is something absurd or piercing or surreal or funny or horrifying. It is always unpredictable, with the exception of the very last one, and that is by design.
But that’s not all there is to A Shock. There’s also Ridgway’s invigorating prose, his finely controlled use of tension and the ‘slow build’, and his colourful, endearing characters: working-class Londoners with note perfect dialogue. And there’s the socio-political undercurrent that is wickedly sharp but also cut through with plenty of dry humour. This book is dark, gritty, poignant, funny, warm, at times quite weird and even flat-out gross, and just a joy to read. 5 stars....more
The Impossible Resurrection of Grief is a slim speculative fiction novella that takes the real phenomenon of eco-grief and amplifies it into a demThe Impossible Resurrection of Grief is a slim speculative fiction novella that takes the real phenomenon of eco-grief and amplifies it into a dementing contagion known as ‘The Grief’. Sufferers are afflicted with unbearable feelings of loss, guilt, and complicity, brought on by species extinction.
The Grief manifests in different ways: for most, it leads to bizarre behaviour and ultimately, suicide. A few are driven to try to recover the losses, either through de-extinction efforts (aka the Jurassic Park method), or by creating replacements—lifelike little robot birds, or holograms of lost habitats.
I will admit I was drawn to pick this up because of the thylacines on the cover and I’m so glad I did. Octavia Cade writes just the kind of speculative fiction that I like—smart, topical, a tiny bit surreal—and this hit the spot. The trans-Tasman setting, the sweet, affectionate dynamic between the protagonist and her recently estranged husband, the oddball events, all give this novella a brightness that is undercut by the grim real world issues it presents. It’s a balance that works.
80 pages is a tricky length for a book, one that seems especially difficult to get right. It feels awkward here, like either a truncated novel or an over-padded short story, just not quite the right size for the story being told. This short read is still knocking around in my head and I’m very glad to have discovered Cade’s work....more
It feels like I just read the first half of a really great, classic-era Stephen King novel. Where’s the rest?
Later is The Sixth Sense meets The DeIt feels like I just read the first half of a really great, classic-era Stephen King novel. Where’s the rest?
Later is The Sixth Sense meets The Dead Zone. It’s a brisk coming-of-age horror, with a genuinely scary Big Bad and a terrific, if slightly unoriginal, premise.
Jamie sees dead people. Walking around like regular people. Well, sort of. They hang around for a few days after death, during which time they must answer any direct question truthfully. Convenient, no? It’s only a matter of time before the adults in Jamie’s life try to exploit his ability for their personal gain.
Once again, King is writing 1960s characters in a 21st century world: Jamie is sweet, endearing, a bit bland, and completely unconvincing as a Gen Z teen. It’s just part of the suspension of disbelief required that all of the characters act as though they are from a generation or two prior, and honestly, I enjoy the retro vibes even if this novel is actually contemporary.
The horror aspect of the book is really well done. The kind of creepy thing that you don’t want to think too much about lest it give you nightmares. I won’t give more away than that.
It feels like King of old would have squeezed a lot more juice out of this book—Jamie’s origins, his mother’s ethical transgressions, the criminal underworld, and the ultimate nature of the Big Bad itself are all underdeveloped to some degree—and gotten more up close and personal with the human evils of the story. The ending is a little tepid, more like a midpoint showdown than a proper finale, which only adds to the feeling that I picked up a secondhand novel with the back half of its pages ripped off. 3.5 stars, rounded up because I'm nice....more