Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver

Barbara Kingsolver uses the same structure and moral imperative of Dickens' “David Copperfield” to tell the enthralling and utterly convincing fictional story of Demon Copperhead, a charismatic boy born into an impoverished area of contemporary rural America. His real name is Damon Fields but he bears the nickname of the title which is what people called him as a boy because of his absent father who had a snake tattoo and copper-wire hair. But also it's a moniker he proudly adopts as a way of asserting his individuality and “You can't deny, it's got a power to it.” In a charmingly conversational and evocative manner he recounts the story of his life from his birth up through to his adulthood having survived an abusive stepfather, a mother grappling with substance abuse, foster care where he's forced into farm labour and drug addiction borne out of America's surging opioid crisis. There's a physicality to the language of this narrative which evokes the feel and texture of this adolescent boy's existence. His fiery spirit, wicked sense of humour and rational ability to navigate the challenges of his circumstances make his narrative mesmerising. Through his eyes we witness the state of a country where individuals in Demon's position can fall between the cracks and suffer from the stereotypes made about people in rural and low income areas.

It was especially meaningful reading this novel after having previously read Patrick Radden Keefe's searing nonfiction account “Empire of Pain” concerning the Sackler family's involvement in the pharmaceutical industry. This background knowledge of the financial drive to prescribe the drug OxyContin despite its highly addictive nature was useful as a large portion of the novel is concerned with characters unwittingly caught in this system – although I don't think it would have prevented me from appreciating the story if I hadn't been aware of it already. The way in which Kingsolver has dramatised this conflict and crisis powerfully shows the social and psychological implications of health services which are driven by profit rather than the welfare of patients. Demon is part of a whole generation whose early lives were stymied or cut short because of this drug and its addictive effects. The tragic way this plays out in the story makes this far-reaching issue intensely felt and it's utterly heartbreaking knowing this is merely one of countless examples of this drug's virulent influence.

I also appreciated the way this novel gives a complex picture of its hero's ethnicity. Demon knows he's from Melungeon heritage, but he only understands the real meaning of this over the course of the story. It taps into a whole history of citizens who experienced prejudice but were excluded from legal protection as their mixed racial heritage meant they didn't fit into a legally defined category. As he becomes more aware of the past and his position in the world, Demon comes to understand why some people react to him in the way they do and call him certain names. Through slurs to do with his race and regionality he comes to understand “A thing grows teeth when it's put into words.” Yet he also learns that terms intended to wound can be reclaimed and used to empower those who experience the deleterious effects of bigotry. This leads Demon to artistically harness satire as a means of counteracting the stereotypes inflicted upon him and those he loves in a cartoon series he draws titled “RedNeck”. Through his humour and intelligence, he's able to emerge from his perilous circumstances and fraught journey as a survivor with an important story to tell.

Terminal Zones by Gareth E Rees

Existential angst meets the climate crisis in this thoughtful and entertaining short story collection. Nearly every tale in this book makes reference to an impending environmental disaster whether it's two female friends living in a cliff edge home that's literally collapsing into the sea or a mother who ingests the constant news of climate change and feels “It was the end of the world and she was totally bored.” This psychological swerving between intense alarm and resigned tedium poignantly reflects the modern experience of watching the world rapidly change around us. Rees dramatises this state of being in imaginative ways including a research ship which ventures into the arctic only to encounter new/ancient forms of sinister spores and sentient bacteria, an animal park/refuge that literally goes up in flames and a dystopian future-set story about a reclusive oligarch's scheme to harness the world's first living computers. Other stories show characters developing surprising emotional attachments to seemingly anonymous concrete and metallic structures whether it's a girl finding paternal feeling in a Motorway Bridge or a new father who falls romantically in love with a pylon. It's moving how the author demonstrates the multifarious ways this admirably diverse set of characters' lives play out in the anonymous interstices of parking lots or seemingly barren fields. Rees' fiction brings to the forefront the experience of individuals in rural England who are often marginalized and relegated to the fringes of society.

Many of these psychologically complex stories are imbued with suspense and horror which makes them riveting to read. A social outcast attempts to harness astrological powers to prevent a crisis with disastrous results. One of the most disturbing tales embeds us in the consciousness of a psychopath who feels threatened by his professionally successful wife and becomes disturbingly obsessed with disposing of his household waste in their new home outside of London. Other pieces in this collection show sympathetic individuals who have grown world weary by the uneasy transition from the freedoms/possibilities of early adulthood to the responsibility-laden experiences of parenthood and home ownership. Rees also experiments with form in his stories. One of the most ambitious of these is 'The Levels' where modern life intersects with ancient occult figures in a time-bending location between land and sea. The variety in structure is consistently intriguing as is the astute levels of social commentary charting not only the climate crisis but the way society is drifting into repressive forms where the public “didn't really know what was going on. The media were in the service of the government, and the government was in the service of oligarchs”. It's also very satisfying reading this collection from start to finish as the closing story neatly makes a brief reference to events which occurred in the first. Fans of Jessie Greengrass and Sequoia Nagamatsu will particularly enjoy these stories. This is socially engaged and inventive fiction at its best.

ti amo by Hanne Ørstavik (translated by Martin Aitken)

Norwegian author Hanne Ørstavik (author of the brilliant novella “Love”) gives an account of a protagonist whose life closely resembles her own as the author of a number of novels. The story follows the time between the narrator’s husband receiving a terminal cancer diagnosis and his death in this frank and incredibly moving story. What makes it feel all the more immediate and personal is that she writes it in the second person present tense speaking directly to her husband. She describes the emotional and physical trials they face as well as the blurred line between her deep devotion to him and a desire to continue living after his inevitable end. Every moment begins to feel precious as “death has become an attendant presence, everything's just the way it is, I'm here with you and soon you won't be here any more.” It's both a confession about this hard reality and an exquisitely composed hymn to their love.

One of the most striking things in this account are moments of unexpected humour which feel all the more buoyant because the couple are aware that the possibility of tragedy is so near. It's what makes their experience so relatable and real. Equally, the narrator is caught off guard by the passion she feels for another man during a work trip to Mexico. She naturally feels guilty about this but it's admirable she states her honest feelings and reaction to a highly pressurised situation. Though grief can be overwhelming, there is also the human drive to connect and create amidst devastating loss. While this tale is naturally a sorrowful and sobering read, it's also exquisitely beautiful how Ørstavik captures the final fleeting months of this rare relationship.

Cells by Gavin McCrea

Amidst the anxiety and tumult of the recent lockdown, being restricted indoors for long periods of time inspired many people to seriously reflect about both the past and future. Slightly before the pandemic, novelist Gavin McCrea (author of the excellent “Mrs Engels” and “The Sisters Mao”) had moved back in with his mother in Dublin during a writing residency. While there he worked to complete his second novel and care for his mother who showed signs of early dementia. As the country locked down, he found himself confined in the home and country which he'd previously vowed never to return to. Amidst the relatively peaceful daily routines in the rooms/cells of this small apartment, a tension mounted regarding unresolved issues to do with McCrea's uniquely challenging upbringing and school life where he experienced years of daily homophobic abuse. He deeply felt that “The problem was that I did not feel at home in my own home.” This account is his personal reckoning with that history, a confrontation with the woman who gave birth to him and an account of the formation of his distinct artistic sensibility.

It's a heartrending experience reading about McCrea's strife in his family and community which naturally leads to intense feelings of pain, suffering, anger, frustration and isolation. However, he is not self-pitying. Instead he seeks to articulate and understand his position and the factors which lead to this situation. There's a rare honesty in how he interrogates the past and the human body itself. He examines the light/dark in himself and those around him including his reserved father who committed suicide and the untrustworthy boyfriend who infected him with HIV. Rather than allowing these tragedies to overwhelm him, they add to his fuel for artistic literary expression. The blunt fact of his survival through these tribulations heighten the moments of rare joy in this memoir such as quietly watching his mother enjoy a book or taking tearful pride in seeing a stack of his novels on sale in a bookshop.

While it's admirable that he extends empathy and patient understanding to people who have wounded him (including a gang of homophobic Irish adolescent boys who violently beat him a few months prior to lockdown), I wish McCrea had spent more time recounting the ways in which certain people have enhanced his life. Figures such as a steadfast childhood friend and his supportive literary agent only get brief mentions. If equal weight had been attributed to them in this dissection of his life it may have given more lightness and balance to this largely elucidating account of trauma. Nevertheless, it's an extremely edifying experience reading this inspiring story. By making his life the subject, McCrea shows how the individual spirit is both beautifully fragile and frightfully robust. Not only does the title refer to our biological makeup, but also the emotional/physical state of being a prisoner in one's own home, country and society. McCrea describes the challenges and (sometimes) impossibility of escaping from these circumscribed aspects of being in a deeply relatable and intelligent way.

The British Academy Book Prize for Global Understanding 2022 shortlist

Although I primarily read fiction I've been wanting to add more nonfiction to my TBR pile. In addition to reading nonfiction books about subjects I'm naturally interested in I also like to peruse book prize lists for guidance and recommendations of the best new nonfiction out there. The British Academy Book Prize for Global Understanding always offers an interesting selection of books which give informed accounts about subjects related to certain regions or countries. Through these compelling narratives and histories the authors also indicate how these issues effect the rest of the globe and help us appreciate our positions as citizens of the wider world. The books selected are also highly readable making it easy for anyone to enjoy and understand the subjects being discussed.

This year's winner will be announced on October 26 and there will be a free public event on October 24 (taking place in person and online) where all the shortlisted authors will be interviewed and discuss their work. These books come with stories from around the world from Chile to post-war Germany to China to life in a remote Swedish village. They encompass themes from the invention of the telephone and its impact on the deaf community to developing a more global understanding of the history of science – did you know Einstein's studies in quantum mechanics were inspired by the Bengali physicist Satyendra Nath Bose?! Or that it was the 17th century African botanist Graman Kwasi who discovered a cure for malaria? You can watch me discussing the prize and all six of the shortlisted titles here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xmPNDjVE6iM

I just finished reading Jing Tsu's fascinating “Kingdom of Characters” which looks at the evolution and transformation of written Chinese over the past century which led the country to becoming one of the world's biggest superpowers. I enjoyed how she selected specific individuals who were instrumental in adapting the language so it could be more easily learned and replicated by citizens in China itself and foreigners. We follow these stories through periods of massive political and technological change. She gives accounts of rebel librarians and oppressed women who developed a secret language of their own. It's a fascinating and comprehensive account which helped me not only better understand the language itself but also China's relationship to the rest of the world.

Have you read any of these titles and what's the best nonfiction you've read recently?

The Booker Prize 2022 Winner

It's been really interesting following the Booker Prize this year. It highlighted some books which were already recent favourites including “Small Things Like These”, “The Colony”, “The Trees”, “Nightcrawling” and “Glory”. But it also encouraged me to pick up other excellent novels such as “Booth”, “Maps of Our Spectacular Bodies” and this year's deserving winner “The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida”.

I had the great privilege of attending the celebration and announcement for the prize. Before the event began of I was able to see the authors looking at the one-of-a-kind special editions of their novels. I also had a little talk with Shehan Karunatilaka beforehand and I got to ask him a question at the press conference after the ceremony. You can watch a video of this and my vlog about the rest of the evening here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YMeaGY-hefA

I had lovely chats with Maddie Mortimer, Percival Everett, Elif Shafak, a judge of next year’s Booker International Prize and some fellow bookstagrammers. Dua Lipa led us in singing happy to Alan Garner who was on a video call. I lost my glasses and found my glasses. It was all quite a whirlwind!

Since the protagonist of Karunatilaka’s novel is a gambler it felt appropriate to place a bet on “The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida” and it was my favourite to win. So it paid off, but moreover I'm thrilled with this result as the novel is such an entertaining and insightful story. It's a suspenseful mystery, a reckoning with Sri Lanka's war torn history, a creepy ghost story and a moving meditation on the meaning of life. I’m glad more people will be discovering it now.

Have you read Maali Almeida yet? What do you think of the result?

50 Books to Read if...

Eek! My 2 new books have just been published! It's so thrilling being able to finally hold actual physical copies of these books after working so hard on them. If you want to see a video of me opening up a box of them for the first time and explaining more about them head over to my YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64ksvY1omQE

Earlier this year I was commissioned to write these little beauties which are lists of 50 great romances & 50 great mysteries. Each book listed includes descriptions, fun info and lovely illustrations. They are interactive TBRs where you can give star ratings, notes or list your own favourite books in these genres.

Although my choices are all excellent reads, I didn't intend these lists of books to be the “50 greatest of all time” but give a wide selection of classic, contemporary, literary, popular and more obscure choices. They are meant as fun gift books which will hopefully inspire people who love these genres to try some titles they've not read before.

And, yes, each book includes a title by JCO!

You can purchase copies from anywhere in the world using these links…

50 Books to Read if You're an Armchair Detective: https://tidd.ly/3VvdrJt

50 Books to Read if You're a Hopeless Romantic: https://tidd.ly/3rHFMyt

If you get a copy let me know how many you’ve read from each list. These are really meant as conversation starters so I'd love to know about your favourite novel with a strong romantic theme and your favourite mystery novel of all time.

Treacle Walker by Alan Garner

This slender fable-like novel was a bit of a head scratcher. Having seen the baffled responses from a number of readers I was prepared for a cryptic tale going into this book and I think it's fair to be warned that it's not a standard narrative. At its centre is a boy with a lazy eye named Joseph Coppock who lives on his own reading comics, collecting odd bits from nature and playing with marbles. One day the eponymous Treacle Walker, a rag-and-bone man (someone who travels around a certain area collecting unwanted household items and clothing) approaches his house. Joseph barters with this pungent man exchanging a literal rag (old pyjamas) and bone for some mysterious items that provoke magical occurrences. The boy enters into a journey through time, the imagination and possibly beyond the boundaries of life. Along the way he interacts with some odd figures from a time guardian who dwells in a bog to characters from his Knockout comic to a summoned cuckoo to a double of himself. Though the primary drive for this story is Joseph's shift in seeing and a quest to prevent magical elements from entering into his dimension, the overall meaning of this fantastical story remains open to interpretation.

In a way I admire how Garner excavates elements from English folklore to entirely refashion them in a tale that seems to literally exist out of time. The novel is unapologetically strewn with antiquated terms, references to items specific to Cheshire, elements from Garner's previous books and entirely invented words. However, those not familiar with any of these things will be quite disorientated throughout much of the novel. Fiction shouldn't necessarily define its terminology and it can be a pleasure using stories as a springboard to learn more about a particular culture and locale. Looking up colloquialisms and vernacular language such as a donkey stone and terms like “shufti” yields a bit more understanding, but I doubt this book will be comprehensible to anyone who doesn't originate from this area of England and hasn't grown up reading Garner's children books. So it's no wonder that some readers have been impatient with it.

This novel certainly has charm. The sections I found most striking were when characters from the comic break out from the boundaries of their black boxes and Joseph races through multiple mirrors. This sort of captivating imagery makes me feel a childish wonder again. I can imagine being completely compelled by this novel if I'd read it as an adolescent. Larger themes to do with local history/mythology and questions to do with the boundaries of the imagination and the way our brains organize time make the story intellectually engaging. It's a fable whose meaning would morph if it were read and reread over the course of a lifetime. However, my initial impression is more of curious amusement like experiencing a disorientating dream that makes little obvious sense. Maybe it'll haunt me over time and I'm sure the next time I hear the sound of a cuckoo I'll feel a shiver down my spine.

Lucy by the Sea by Elizabeth Strout

It's been several years since Strout first started writing about this particular reflective heroine beginning with “My Name is Lucy Barton” and continuing aspects of her story through the books “Anything is Possible” and “Oh William!” - though I'd say this new novel is the most straightforward sequel yet as events follow directly on from the end of that third novel. Lucy's later life becomes even more entangled with her first husband William as the recent pandemic hits America and they go into lockdown together in a borrowed coastal house in Maine. Lucy recounts her difficulty navigating this intense period of time and describes new discoveries regarding her personal history and events to do with her family life.

By now Lucy has come to feel like an old friend. I have a deep affection towards her but I also find her slightly irritating. She has a particular idiosyncratic way in which she sifts through the past alighting upon significant moments she remembers with great clarity while other aspects of her personal history and life seem mysterious to her. Of course, this is very relatable and it's what gives Strout's stories great humanity. But Lucy's ponderousness and low self-esteem can also be trying. This is certainly deliberate as William and her adult daughters occasionally express their impatience with her. However, as we come to understand the continuing impact her impoverished and difficult familial relationships have had upon her life these aspects of her personality make much more sense.

My experience of this novel was influenced by reading the entire book aloud to my husband while we were on a recent long road trip. It really brought the story to life as we laughed or gasped at certain parts and discussed it in between sections. As always I'm delighted at affectionate jibes Strout makes about life in Maine such as how fiercely cold it gets, but there's also a particular reason why Lucy intensely hates being cold. Strout also doesn't shrink from revealing darker aspects of Maine life such as the insular nature of some of its citizens who are hostile to outsiders. Since Lucy's narrative is quite straightforward and chatty it made reading it aloud particularly pleasurable. I think there's also a deceptive simplicity to Strout's writing which touches upon really profound subject matter from the evolving nature of love to deep political divisions in America while also representing the foibles and peculiar details which make us human.

Barton drops in plenty of “catch up” information throughout this novel in case readers haven't read or have forgotten details from the previous books. So it can certainly be read as a stand-alone book. However, I can't imagine coming to this novel without having read the previous books and my appreciation and understanding of it was certainly enhanced since I've travelled the entirely of this extensive journey with Lucy. A knowledge of Barton's entire oeuvre is also handy as characters from her previous books such as “The Burgess Boys”, “Olive Kitteridge” and “Olive, Again” make appearances in this new novel. Knowing something of these additional characters gives Lucy's interactions with them an added poignancy and also gave me a feeling of being fully immersed in the fictional alternate universe which Barton has created.

Many dramatic things occur in this novel and shocking secrets are revealed. There's an acknowledge irony to this since it's also about a period of time stuck in a house where circular routines are established and nothing of significance seems to occur for many months. It's an ideal time for mulling things over and Lucy also develops some strong connections with a few local individuals. The story builds to quite a moving conclusion where Lucy arrives at certain revelations. At the same time, she knows the future is always unclear and she becomes equally sure that she knows nothing. This really embodies the quiet genius of this character and it's no doubt why Strout has a continuing preoccupation with Lucy's story. One of Lucy's mortal fears is how we never know when we might see someone for the last time. I don't know if this will be the last book to feature Lucy Barton, but I'm certainly glad to have encountered her again and this latest novel has given me an even deeper appreciation for the previous books.

Babysitter by Joyce Carol Oates

The opening of “Babysitter” obsessively focuses on a few moments in time as a woman ascends in a glass hotel elevator to the 61st floor and walks down a corridor to a room with a sign on the door that loudly declares “PRIVACY PLEASE! DO NOT DISTURB”. Hannah is a wealthy wife and mother living in a Detroit suburb in the 1970s. She has arrived for an assignation and to engage in an affair with a mysterious man she met briefly at a party. Like in a fairy tale, violating the message on this door and entering the room will irrevocably alter her life to liberate or destroy it. However, this story isn't as concerned with consequences as it is in moments in our life when there is a profound shift from one stage to another. So the narrative catches in a time loop like a snippet of film which plays over and over: “The vision overcame her. And this, too, cinematic, in a flash. Yet, strangely, not a vision so much as a memory.” The style of detailing the minutiae of a seemingly ordinary action is reminiscent of Nicholson Baker's “The Mezzanine” and by following Hannah in these brief moments we come to understand her position in life and her milieu of white upper class privilege. She is a passive woman living amongst deadly powerful men who make their own rules and dominate the people around them. This novel presents a vivid, hallucinatory and thought-provoking portrait of those whose lives brush against an elusive serial killer preying upon children.

It's easy to criticise a character such as Hannah who is preoccupied with brand labels and social status. She takes her housekeeper Ismelda for granted as she's frequently left to care for Hannah's children and Hannah's grand house. Hannah neglects her children unless she's being hysterically attentive to them. But she also had a difficult upbringing with a possibly violent/abusive father. Her husband is frequently absent and callous towards her. She seems to have no close friends and she becomes trapped in a perilous or even deadly situation. As she gradually becomes aware of the danger of the men around her, she becomes trapped in a circumstance where she's completely lost control. The story also focuses on a young man named Mikey who was an orphan and comes from a troubled background. He's a sort of fixer that takes care of dodgy jobs for nefarious men. Just like Hannah, he underestimates the absolute power and sway of these men who only show favour to Hannah and Mikey when they can use them. However, Mikey is a chameleon who reinvents himself and develops a psychological armour to shield himself from the world. He's lawless but has a moral centre from which he deals out his own sense of justice. It feels tragic that there is a deep disconnect between Hannah and Mikey because they could be natural allies, but they have such different personalities and ways of coping.

The story doesn't only report on the murder of children by a deranged serial killer, but also the state sanctioned murder of an innocent black man who is targeted by police after Hannah returns to her home in a dishevelled and damaged state. Yet the public accept this as justified and it quickly passes out of their minds. Oates' National Book Award winning 1969 novel “them” is partly about the racial tensions which led to a “riot” or “rebellion” in Detroit in 1967. The endemic racism in the city is still very present during the later 1970s when “Babysitter” is set and the shadow of these events loom over the characters. In his racist paranoia, Hannah's husband is quick to persecute a black man regardless of his total innocence. As always in Oates' fiction, notions of justice don't naturally align with the law as the ideologies governing these characters' lives are the truly ruling factor. It's hypnotic how this novel captures the resulting psychological chaos of living in a world of predators and prey. The tension of whether this horrific serial killer will be stopped is depicted alongside a woman whose reality is broken as she's trapped in a perpetual nightmare.

You can watch me discuss “Babysitter” with Joyce Carol Oates here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=StX-dEuDo3A

The Booker Prize 2022 Shortlist

Here are the 6 novels shortlisted for the 2022 Booker Prize! A new video is up on my YouTube channel discussing all these books and fun info about the list as well as the exciting news that the Booker is sponsoring me to follow this year's shortlist: https://youtu.be/rJeF4NoymaA Yes, she is official! This is a lovely thing which will allow me to engage with readers even more than I usually do about this prize season, but I'll continue to give my honest thoughts about the nominated books and the list as a whole.

I correctly predicted that 4 of these novels would make the shortlist and I've read 5 of them. I'm thrilled Bulawayo, Everett, Keegan and Karunatilaka made it! Their novels are extraordinarily clever, emotional and excellently written. Moreover they are all a JOY to read. Though this novel by Strout isn't my favourite or one of my personal tops from the longlist or my fav from the Lucy Barton series (the 4th novel in the series “Lucky by the Sea” will be published in the UK on Oct 6th), I love her writing and this is a very moving and deceptively simple story. I've not read Garner's short novel yet but I've heard such mixed opinions I'm so intrigued to get to it.

It is a shame “The Colony” by Audrey Magee and “Nightcrawling” by Leila Mottley didn't make the shortlist. I loved both of these and would encourage anyone who hasn't yet read them to get to these as well. There are also other books from the longlist I've not read yet which I'm still intending to explore.

What do you think of the list? Any favourites, disappointments or books you're looking forward to?

I'm looking forward to following this exciting prize season even more closely!

Acting Class by Nick Drnaso

People who are socially awkward often suffer from a sense of being alienated and not wanted – particularly in environments that are new to them. Most people experience this on some level but it's more acutely felt by certain people. It's difficult to know whether these feelings are self manifested or if this rejection comes from being different and not conforming to common social behaviour. At the start of Drnaso's latest graphic novel, we get snapshots of several such individuals who feel isolated in different ways. They come together in response to a general ad for an acting class which is described as a “unique opportunity” that is seemingly more about building self confidence than training to become a professional actor. The class is lead by John Smith, an affable man with a disturbingly commonplace name. He asks for no payment for the first set of classes and though his motives seem purely altruistic at the beginning his plans for these students become increasingly mysterious. Through a series of scenes which switch between these individuals' outside lives and acting prompts performed in class the line between reality and artifice becomes worryingly blurred. The story raises poignant questions concerning what constitutes an authentic self and the degree to which socialising inhibits or enhances self expression.

Any book that immediately gives short introductions to a wide cast of characters poses a challenge to the reader to remember and keep track of who all these people are while experiencing the story. This difficulty is increased by Drnaso's drawing style where many of the characters appear quite similar to each other. However, this isn't a criticism as this aspect of the book enhances the story's themes which probe the nature of individuality and whether our personalities are innate or self-created. The unsettling anonymous effect is somewhat similar to the film 'Anomalisa' where animated facial features and voices are disturbingly uniform. Naturally, as “Acting Class” continues the identities and personal histories of these characters become clearer as information is revealed through their interactions with each other. We also get a better sense of how these characters variously conceal, evade or manipulate when conversing with others. Equally, their insecurities and earnest desires to be good people spill out as they struggle to connect.

It's visually striking when the characters are acting in a scene and suddenly the background behind them will change from one panel to the next to show an entirely new environment to fit the imaginary space they're inhabiting. This feels like a playful commentary on the way in which we sometimes feel like we create our own reality. As these individuals improvise scenes the characters and situations they invent are naturally inspired by real life and disturbing things sometimes emerge. I enjoyed the ambiguity and discomfort of the moments where the other characters aren't sure if their acting partner is still acting or confessing something true. It explores the degree to which this occurs in real life where constructed social identities break down and real feelings emerge. One of the most poignant relationships in the novel is between a couple who are struggling to maintain their relationship and strategise to reignite the spark by starting over as if they're strangers. It reminds me of the protagonists of Vesna Main's “Good Day?” where a couple write a novel about a couple. Drnaso shows how certain tensions remain even when a long term relationship is reset as if they are meeting for the first time.

The central question of this novel revolves around the choice between fully inhabiting reality or committing to an imagined narrative. This is dramatically represented in a dilemma as the participants engage in a final immersive exercise. Naturally, the line between experience and the imagination is much more blurred in our day to day existence and Drnaso's amplifies the crisis to create an impactful and eerie effect. I found it very moving how the story plays out as the characters become lost in hostile landscapes of their own creations. As in his previous graphic novel “Sabrina”, Drnaso skilfully interjects small visual elements into certain panels such as tiny colourful stars or a frame around the panel which suggest there are deeper emotional changes occurring beneath the surface of certain scenes. It's also impressive how the themes of the novel build to such a degree where panels which show barely anything can become so emotionally charged. This novel is a striking and impressive meditation on the tension between being and becoming.

The Animals in That Country by Laura Jean McKay

I always appreciate a non-stereotypical grandmother in fiction and Jean, the protagonist of “The Animals in That Country”, is foul-mouthed, hard drinking and sexual. She also adores her granddaughter Kimberly who is the only human with whom she shares a strong emotional bond. Her colleagues at the zoo where she gives guided tours don't think of Jean as a real ranger. She's estranged from her son. She's blocked from posting on certain websites. And her occasional lover is more devoted to his boyfriend. So it's only natural she feels a connection with the animals she cares for. She humorously makes up voices for them while guessing what the beasts are thinking and establishes what she believes to be a special kinship with a dingo named Sue. A mysterious disease quickly spreads across Australia that causes a pinkness in the eye and humans to hear everything that living creatures communicate. Life at the zoo is upturned. People go mad being bombarded with the thoughts of animals and most distance themselves from them as much as possible. When Kimberly's infected father takes her away to discover what whales are really saying, Jean sets out on a road trip to retrieve her alongside her companion Sue. This makes for a highly unique buddy journey as Jean gradually becomes more attuned to the surprising things that all the animals around her are really thinking and saying.

Gradually the text of the story becomes more populated by the animal speech which is a kind of garbled poetry mixed with a heavy dose of profanity. Though it seems like complete gibberish at first it gradually takes on more meaning and I enjoyed how this novel challenges the reader to enter the mindset of other species. Most often we project human consciousness onto animals when wondering what they're thinking but it's more likely that the pattern of their minds is very different from our own. Naturally, if we could actually hear everything the creatures around us are thinking we'd be more aware of the way we are dominating and abusing them. But this novel doesn't romanticise animal consciousness either. The creatures Jean hears are often selfish, crude or tedious. While this makes McKay's debut a really unique novel it also becomes quite confusing to follow the narrative of Jean's episodic journey. However, I was particularly struck by the emotional poignancy of the end. Though Jean is a feisty character her hard exterior conceals a loneliness dwelling beneath the surface and this becomes evident through the dilemma she's presented with at the story's conclusion. This dystopian novel is thoughtful and unsettling as well as moving in its depiction of alcoholism and alienation.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin

It's hard to think of a novel I'd be predisposed to love as much as Gabrielle Zevin's story of two friends who become extremely successful game designers. Not only does the novel begin in an area near Boston I'm very familiar with, but its main characters are roughly my contemporaries. They reference video games I played a lot when I was younger. The characters discuss issues such as how to reach the top of the flag pole in Super Mario Bros and dying from dysentery in The Oregon Trail. Aside from my personal identification with the story and even if you weren't ever into gaming this is a novel many will enjoy in the way it poignantly describes a longterm platonic friendship, creativity and issues to do with identity. Adolescent Sam survives a car crash but sustains a serious foot injury which leaves him disabled for the rest of his life. While he's in the hospital he meets Sadie and the two connect over a shared passion for gaming. Both are somewhat socially awkward so their special relationship is particularly meaningful but over the years they go through rocky patches where sometimes they are emotionally distant from each other. While they are still in college they dedicate themselves to creating a new video game. Though they are driven more by passion than a desire for success the game becomes a worldwide hit. They are living the dream, but we follow how personal, professional and political challenges inhibit them from happily inhabiting the real world.

I enjoyed how the story shows that there's a liberating freedom in entering the gaming world where we're not subject to the same pressures and limitations of reality. It also broadens our scope for seeing how society can be refashioned to be more equal and fair for everyone. Sadie and Sam self consciously endeavour to form alternative worlds which aren't inhibited by sexism, racism and homophobia. The role playing in the stories also challenges preconceived ideas of history and our own culpability in morally ambiguous situations. As a model which gamers inhabit with avatars this can inspire change which carries over into decisions made in the real world. However, it can also be an addictive way of avoiding certain personal issues and foster as many factions as there are in reality. Equally, even though it can be a useful medium through which to build and sustain friendships, it doesn't always foster communication in the same way as speaking to people in real life. The story details the particular challenges which Sadie encounters because she was one of the few women in the professional field of gaming at that time. Sam becomes extremely withdrawn because of his serious injury and denies how much it impacts his life. Their social awkwardness is somewhat mediated through a mutual friend and colleague named Marx who is confident and caring. It's heartrending how the story of this trio plays out over the course of the story.

This is a novel of great ambition which is largely pleasurable and engaging to read. At times it feels like it strives a little too hard to cover quite so many topics from the line between power play in the bedroom and domestic abuse to same sex marriage to cultural appropriation. For the most part it meaningfully incorporates these into the characters and storylines, but it sometimes risks cramming a bit too much in to sensitively show the full repercussions and complexities of these things. The timeline shifts around quite a lot in a way which can be a bit disorientating at first, but it's fairly easy to follow. Interviews with Sam about the success of their games are interspersed with the main narrative so there's never any question about their success as game creators. Instead the plot focuses on the more interesting question of how they can continue to stay true to their ideas and vision while building a sustainable business. I admire how Zevin toys with narrative perspective itself so it sometimes switches to inhabiting game play. This builds a tension concerning what is occurring in the real world and why the characters are taking refuge in the virtual. The title of the novel is a quote from Shakespeare and its relevance in the story is only revealed later. It's pleasurable when stories do this because it's like a reward for the reader who finally understands the thematic frame of the book. Overall, it's a smart and alluring tale which poignantly expresses the bittersweet joys of gaming and the sustaining connection of friendship.

Girls in their Married Bliss by Edna O'Brien

Has there ever been a more ironic title for a novel? In the third book of O'Brien's 'Country Girls' trilogy we pick up with Cait and Baba to discover they have separately married. Despite the prospect of her independence in London at the end of “The Lonely Girl”, Cait has actually married the problematic older man Eugene, given birth to his child and is in the midst of an affair when the novel begins. Baba has also married a prosperous but dull-witted man who is a poor match for this highly social and sexually forward woman. Neither of these women are content with their lives, let alone feeling anything close to bliss. Along with learning about the developments in these girls' lives which occurred between the novels the most striking thing about this latest instalment is that O'Brien has changed the narrative so it alternates between Cait and Baba's perspective. (Previously, we've been firmly locked in Cait's point of view.) It's quite emotional following the dramatic events of this novel as I've grown to closely know and care about both these girls as they've struggled to achieve their desires while developing into independent women.

At first it's a great novelty getting Baba's brashly unfiltered perspective. However, it soon feels a bit too chaotic as events unfold and it ultimately detracted from my enjoyment of following a story which had previously engrossed me. I'm not sure why O'Brien chose to change the narrative in this way as Baba's voice and point of view always came through clearly enough in the dialogue of previous books. Of course, it's also more gloomy following the girls into their adult lives as all the promise and prospects they enjoyed when they were younger and rebellious have dwindled as they've made certain life choices. It previously seemed like there were educational and professional prospects for them but those have seemingly been put aside. Far from finding personal contentment in motherhood, each woman differently struggles with parenting while being embroiled in relationship difficulties. There's the sad fact that these girls have become bound by the same struggles which inhibited their mothers' livelihood. So it's depressing seeing the cycle continue.

Nonetheless, the novel makes a striking statement about how we all get caught in the “rut of human existence” because of conflicts to do with romance, friendships and living in a community. However, because of the conservative attitudes and the dominant religion in Ireland at that time, these women aren't equipped to deal with and productively discuss the challenges that they face. There's no support network for their issues which are universal but the patriarchy expects them to silently abandon their desires and submit to what's expected of them. They are locked in a perpetual state of “girlhood”. While their difficulties are partly circumstantial they also have personalities which compel them to make some unfortunate choices and they end up perpetuating damaging behaviour. This trilogy also includes an afterward by the author which is really more like a novella and from what I understand O'Brien wrote it several years after completing this third book. Sadly, this only reinforces the sense that rather than being beacons of progress these girls end up damaging those around them and find no fulfilment. It's realistic that things work out this way, but it does make these last instalments relentlessly depressing to read. Previously it felt like the novels achieved a good balance between humour and seriousness. All this meant that I enjoyed this third novel the least of all the books, but O'Brien is such a skilful writer and this trilogy is truly a modern classic in the forthright way it presents the perspective of the young Irish female experience.