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Content Warning: violence, off-page rape and sexual assault, suicide, discussion of suicide and suicidal ideation, depression, discussion of mental illness, child abuse/neglect, victim-blaming
Rachel Kee is practical. No-nonsense. She lives in a small flat with her young daughter, Carrie, leading a life of self-imposed isolation. But Rachel, unlike most people, relishes her loneliness, thrives in it. Aside from her daughter, she socializes very little, and, as she tells us at one point during the novel, is always secretly plotting her escape back home when she is out with friends. For the last three years, however, Rachel has been seeing a man. Not "seeing" in the traditional sense; they don't go on dates, or plan a future together. No, they meet only for one thing: sadomasochistic sex.
But suddenly, Rachel stumbles upon something that will change her life forever. Something ordinary, a part of daily life. A sketch over an article in a newspaper. The police are looking for a man and woman involved in the brutal rape of a sixteen-year-old girl in Scotland. Rachel's first thought as she's skimming the paper? "Two drawings, of a man and a woman. Artist's impressions. The man in the top drawing was instantly recognizable as Joshua."
Yet she feels amused as she continues to look at it, finds herself silly for thinking that, "this stereotype, who would look like any man with a three-day growth of bristles, steely brush of cropped hair and broad, deeply lined face, should be for her Joshua." Still, the more she learns, it isn't quite so easy to dismiss her recognition of the man in the sketch as the man who has become her lover...
I think it's worth mentioning here first that this is, in a way, semi-autobiographical. Not the actual meat of the plot, per se, but Rachel experiences many things and lives through many events that we know Diski also did. It's one of the reasons I find this book hard to review, particularly when it comes to saying the things that need to be said about its main character and the unfolding of her life.
Diski was a talented writer, a woman who overcame and struggled with countless hardships, and so before I truly dive into the actual review, I want to give her credit for what she did with her life. So, in the words of many reviewers over the years, it really is not personal!
Let's start with Rachel. In the very beginning, I found myself liking her, agreeing with her statements about life and intrigued by her view of it. She's self-described as a person who does not like fuss or mess, someone who truly enjoys her time alone. Speaking perfectly frankly it was, at first, refreshing.
The cast of characters is otherwise rather sparse, fixating mainly on Rachel and her own inner thoughts, alongside her complex and confusing relationship with Joshua. There's Becky, her positive, bubbly best friend, a nice light amongst the usually dark and heavy cast. We also are allowed brief glimpses of Rachel's interactions with her adoptive mother, Isobel, who she feels - like most of her friends and acquaintances - judges her to unfair standards, particularly when it comes to Joshua. I thought their scenes together were interesting, rather potent, but unfortunately so small and sparse that there's little to be gained from it as a whole.
Another (unexpected) joy is Pete, the young man whom Rachel tutors. He's sixteen-years-old, in care, never adopted out to a family and considered by many in the social work system to be a lost cause. But he's bright, funny, immediately joking with Rachel and getting along with her. He also dresses like a skinhead, something Rachel finds a bit confusing, especially since he tells her he has no real interest or dedication to Nazism. Not to mention that Rachel herself is Jewish, an issue that later comes up between them, and which is dealt with succinctly and with a sensation of Pete showing that he has no real alliances (just a desire to fit in somewhere, somehow).
But there's a question I kept asking myself throughout this book: why? What, exactly, does Pete's narrative within the story do? There are things that I will not spoil here, but it felt as if Pete was in the story to do one thing and one thing only, and I found myself dissatisfied and truly distressed by the cheaply done outcome of his role. It serves a purpose, I guess, but to what end?
And why Joshua? So - he does what for her? He gives her the suffering, the pain, she's really craving? Many times throughout the book Rachel tells us that Joshua is charming, fascinating, clever. A manipulator, a player of games. The latter may be true, but the former is certainly never really shown. In fact, Joshua's scenes with Rachel are perhaps the least fascinating aspect of the novel. It's more the outcomes of her closeness with him, the way it changes her attitudes and feelings towards others in her life and the way she views her own small world, that is enthralling.
The thing that disappointed me the most was the actual plot. The premise is exciting, interesting - who isn't intrigued and horrified by the idea that someone close to them may be a monster? - and yet the execution fell terribly flat. The majority of the novel is actually Rachel reminiscing on the past, rather than focusing on the current events. The journey was well-done enough to keep me reading voraciously, but the end was odd, disjointed, slightly confused. And in spite of the fact that I'd spent hours in Rachel's head, I struggled to understand her motivation, the reason behind her behavior.
By the closing scene, I no longer liked Rachel all that much. She's spiteful, negative, keen on feeling better than others merely because she is serious and quiet and, until some vital moments later in the book, is capable of keeping her emotions under control. She comes off not as a likable, three-dimensional character, a woman with flaws and good qualities, but as someone too caught up in her own world of bitterness to really care for others.
I don't recommend reading if you are struggling with depression, or if any of the various triggers listed above are personally distressing or painful for you. The writing itself is lovely, absorbing, but in characterization and plot it unfortunately falls short. It's worth a read, I think, if you're wanting something a touch literary to thumb through, but don't expect to come away feeling as if the novel's potential was fully realized.
But suddenly, Rachel stumbles upon something that will change her life forever. Something ordinary, a part of daily life. A sketch over an article in a newspaper. The police are looking for a man and woman involved in the brutal rape of a sixteen-year-old girl in Scotland. Rachel's first thought as she's skimming the paper? "Two drawings, of a man and a woman. Artist's impressions. The man in the top drawing was instantly recognizable as Joshua."
Yet she feels amused as she continues to look at it, finds herself silly for thinking that, "this stereotype, who would look like any man with a three-day growth of bristles, steely brush of cropped hair and broad, deeply lined face, should be for her Joshua." Still, the more she learns, it isn't quite so easy to dismiss her recognition of the man in the sketch as the man who has become her lover...
I think it's worth mentioning here first that this is, in a way, semi-autobiographical. Not the actual meat of the plot, per se, but Rachel experiences many things and lives through many events that we know Diski also did. It's one of the reasons I find this book hard to review, particularly when it comes to saying the things that need to be said about its main character and the unfolding of her life.
Diski was a talented writer, a woman who overcame and struggled with countless hardships, and so before I truly dive into the actual review, I want to give her credit for what she did with her life. So, in the words of many reviewers over the years, it really is not personal!
Let's start with Rachel. In the very beginning, I found myself liking her, agreeing with her statements about life and intrigued by her view of it. She's self-described as a person who does not like fuss or mess, someone who truly enjoys her time alone. Speaking perfectly frankly it was, at first, refreshing.
The cast of characters is otherwise rather sparse, fixating mainly on Rachel and her own inner thoughts, alongside her complex and confusing relationship with Joshua. There's Becky, her positive, bubbly best friend, a nice light amongst the usually dark and heavy cast. We also are allowed brief glimpses of Rachel's interactions with her adoptive mother, Isobel, who she feels - like most of her friends and acquaintances - judges her to unfair standards, particularly when it comes to Joshua. I thought their scenes together were interesting, rather potent, but unfortunately so small and sparse that there's little to be gained from it as a whole.
Another (unexpected) joy is Pete, the young man whom Rachel tutors. He's sixteen-years-old, in care, never adopted out to a family and considered by many in the social work system to be a lost cause. But he's bright, funny, immediately joking with Rachel and getting along with her. He also dresses like a skinhead, something Rachel finds a bit confusing, especially since he tells her he has no real interest or dedication to Nazism. Not to mention that Rachel herself is Jewish, an issue that later comes up between them, and which is dealt with succinctly and with a sensation of Pete showing that he has no real alliances (just a desire to fit in somewhere, somehow).
But there's a question I kept asking myself throughout this book: why? What, exactly, does Pete's narrative within the story do? There are things that I will not spoil here, but it felt as if Pete was in the story to do one thing and one thing only, and I found myself dissatisfied and truly distressed by the cheaply done outcome of his role. It serves a purpose, I guess, but to what end?
And why Joshua? So - he does what for her? He gives her the suffering, the pain, she's really craving? Many times throughout the book Rachel tells us that Joshua is charming, fascinating, clever. A manipulator, a player of games. The latter may be true, but the former is certainly never really shown. In fact, Joshua's scenes with Rachel are perhaps the least fascinating aspect of the novel. It's more the outcomes of her closeness with him, the way it changes her attitudes and feelings towards others in her life and the way she views her own small world, that is enthralling.
The thing that disappointed me the most was the actual plot. The premise is exciting, interesting - who isn't intrigued and horrified by the idea that someone close to them may be a monster? - and yet the execution fell terribly flat. The majority of the novel is actually Rachel reminiscing on the past, rather than focusing on the current events. The journey was well-done enough to keep me reading voraciously, but the end was odd, disjointed, slightly confused. And in spite of the fact that I'd spent hours in Rachel's head, I struggled to understand her motivation, the reason behind her behavior.
By the closing scene, I no longer liked Rachel all that much. She's spiteful, negative, keen on feeling better than others merely because she is serious and quiet and, until some vital moments later in the book, is capable of keeping her emotions under control. She comes off not as a likable, three-dimensional character, a woman with flaws and good qualities, but as someone too caught up in her own world of bitterness to really care for others.
I don't recommend reading if you are struggling with depression, or if any of the various triggers listed above are personally distressing or painful for you. The writing itself is lovely, absorbing, but in characterization and plot it unfortunately falls short. It's worth a read, I think, if you're wanting something a touch literary to thumb through, but don't expect to come away feeling as if the novel's potential was fully realized.
Let nothing be called naturalIn an age of bloody confusion,Ordered disorder, planned caprice,And dehumanized humanity, lest all thingsBe held unalterable!
— Bertolt Brecht
