Can’t review this exceptional little book any better than Ali Smith in The Guardian

Last week I read a debut novel called Assembly by Natasha Brown. It’s a quiet, measured call to revolution. It’s about everything that has changed and still needs to change, socially, historically, politically, personally. It’s slim in the hand, but its impact is massive; it strikes me as the kind of book that sits on the faultline between a before and an after. I could use words like elegant and brilliantly judged and literary antecedents such as Katherine Mansfield/Toni Morrison/Claudia Rankine. But it’s simpler than that. I’m full of the hope, on reading it, that this is the kind of book that doesn’t just mark the moment things change, but also makes that change possible.
• Ali Smith, the author of Summer (Penguin),

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2021/may/29/dreaming-of-a-better-future-ali-sm... ( )

Une bonne claque ! Voilà un livre qui va me faire réfléchir encore longtemps.

Une femme noire qui a réussi après de brillantes études tombe malade. Cancer. Un choc qui va l’amener à réfléchir à sa situation, son intégration.

Un livre sur l’Angleterre post-coloniale qui secoue bien fort la bien-pensance en démontrant la brutalité de tous les non-dits.

Il y a bien plus que de la poussière sous les tapis. Est-il possible de continuer à marcher dessus ? ( )

Another book I don't think I can rate. The problem with short books is little bits colour your opinion so much that it's impossible to properly appreciate the rest. And I felt very frustrated with this one, for personal political reasons.

It started just because the first page was full of the quotes about how it was urgent, timely, powerful, political etc - and so obviously I start reading it from the angle of "this is a political manifesto". Which is unfair! And then the author was a banker. And the first person narrator is too. It's the sort of thing that makes me read unfairly, so I put it down for a bit, picked it up again in a different frame of mind.

Then there's 2 paragraphs which instantly made me so, so frustrated.

I don’t know which firm, specifically, the protests were targeting. I was a new grad back then, in crispy Primark shirts and soft M&S trousers. Excited, terrified, eager to work. The guards had cordoned off the building’s entrance with metal barriers. I pressed through the crowds; a mass of sandals, blonde dreadlocks and body odour. Their poster boards and voices jeered from all sides. Arms crossed, I kept my head down and walked quick, focused on the ground ahead. Some shouted as I showed my card. Security lifted aside the barrier to let me through.

Their eyes held. They watched me cross the divide and disappear through revolving doors.

•

Let’s say: A boy grows up in a country manor. Attends a private preparatory school. Spends his weekends out in the barn with his father. Together they build a great, stone sundial. The boy, now a young man, achieves two E-grades at A-level, then travels to Jamaica to teach. His sun shadows cycle round and round and he himself winds up, up. Up until the boy, an old man now, is right up at the tippity-top of the political system. Buoyed by a wealth he’s never had to earn, never worked for. He’s never dealt in grubby compromise. And from this vantage, he points a finger – an old finger, the skin translucent, arm outstretched and wavering. He points it at you: The problem.

Always, the problem.

So the first paragraph is a blanket dismissal of protestors. Then the second is Jeremy Corbyn. And... yeah, this stuff is personal to me. The implicit claim here is that Corbyn was specifically targeting successful Black people somehow, through his political programme. It's the same (garbage) line complaining about him supposedly not compromising. And yeah, ok, the 2015-2019 years I have immense emotional investment in. On other pages she criticises the hostile environment, but it's not personalised like this, obviously. It's just crap, I'm sorry.

Through the whole thing there's a weird identification with rich people - like, she deserves to be rich and powerful and able to impose her will on others because she Worked Hard, upper class aristocrats may be annoying but obviously you should get in a relationship with them (as if that's a normal thing an average person could do). Like there's a lot I don't think I have the right to complain about but the class stuff is just... wild idk. So much so I can't pay proper attention to the rest of the book. Sorry.

This, for me, transcends even Morrison's Recitatif. Every emotion is so palpable behind her carefully crafted words, it feels like poetry, having just an unfortunate reason to have to write one. "This is not home" really hit a nerve that we had almost successfully numbed down with painkillers. What a melancholic masterpiece. Even if I do not identify with her race, I'm still a woman, and this constant struggle to just "divert a failure" is no stranger to me. I didn't realise how important this book is while going into it, but a part of me deeply believes in its "transcendence" and "assimilation" into a future classic. ( )

Series Info/Source: This is a stand alone book. I borrowed this from the library on audiobook.

Thoughts: This was a quick listen on audiobook. I thought this was fine but nothing exceptional. This is written in beautiful prose and is a somewhat disjointed novella where you are privy to a successful black British woman's thoughts and life. This book takes place over a very short period of time and we get to follow the woman as she attends a garden party at the country estate of her boyfriend's wealthy white family.

This book focuses on racism, sexism, and those moments when you have to refocus your life priorities. The protagonist suffers small (and not so small) indignities on a daily basis despite her success because of her race and her sex. When she has a cancer scare (I actually couldn't figure out if she lied to her boyfriend about not having cancer or if she actually didn't have cancer), she starts to reevaluate her life. Her whole life she has been reaching, striving, and achieving and she is tired and she wonders when she can stop and just be herself. She is rich and successful but she is unsure where it all leads and still feels pressure to succeed because of the sacrifices her ancestors made for her to get to this point.

This a fine look into these issues and the tiredness people can face when constantly struggling against them. It's also an interesting (but not unique) look into "hustle" culture and how that can wear on people.

The story is a bit disjointed since you are following her thoughts as they flit from past to present and back again. The story also ends up feeling very unfinished. Although these topics are explored in a lyrical way. However, I didn't feel like a lot of new ground was covered or that there was any growth or resolution here.

I listened to this on audiobook while driving and it was a nice diversion but didn't make a lot of impact on me. I've just read too many similar things and these issues are always discussed without much resolution in real life, so I guess this mimicked real life in that way. The narration was very well done and pleasant to listen to.

My Summary (3/5): Overall this was an okay read. It is a lyrical and beautifully written look at a successful black woman who is still struggling with indignities despite her success. She is also struggling with the choices she's made in striving for that success while constantly playing a "part" rather than being herself. If this sounds intriguing to you pick it up, it's a short read. I did struggle a bit with how disjointed the story felt and with the fact that all these issues have been discussed and debated in many forms before and I didn't feel like there was really any new ground covered or any sort of impactful thought or resolution here. ( )