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A review by kris_mccracken
Summerwater by Sarah Moss
4.0
Sarah Moss's "Summerwater" weaves a polyphonic narrative over a single rain-soaked day. The story unfolds through the shifting perspectives of various holidaymakers, each chapter standing as a self-contained vignette, yet together composing a portrait of interwoven lives. Moss demonstrates an adeptness at capturing the minutiae of everyday existence, from peeling roof tiles to the inconspicuous rituals of simple meals, with prose that is unpretentious yet suffused with a quiet profundity.
Among the novel's many voices, I found the chapter from the perspective of a 16-year-old kayaker particularly captivating. Moss immerses us in the immediacy of youth - the restless vigour, the yearning for freedom, the exhilaration of slicing through the water - while allowing space for the reader to glimpse the uncertainties lingering just beneath the surface. This balance of vivacity and vulnerability is emblematic of Moss's skill in rendering the interior lives of her characters, who are as varied as the unpredictable weather that hems them in.
Family dynamics form the bedrock of the narrative, as Moss deftly sketches the tensions and fleeting moments of tenderness that make shared living simultaneously rewarding and exasperating. Each character's internal monologue brings to light the unspoken grievances, quiet anxieties, and moments of connection that populate their days. Through these insights, the novel explores themes of motherhood and societal judgment while also delving into personal struggles such as agoraphobia and OCD. These issues emerge organically, enriching the narrative without overshadowing the subtleties of the characters' lives.
The novel's tone, while often leavened by humour, carries a persistent undercurrent of unease as the holidaymakers' vulnerabilities gradually rise to the fore. Moss's particular talent for depicting female characters with levity and acuity adds both warmth and bite to the prose, striking a delicate balance between triviality and the darker shades of human experience. Her portrayal of family holidays captures a sense of claustrophobia, as well as the allure and foreboding of the natural world, with its unsettling weather patterns that mirror the characters' internal turbulence.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ 1/2
Among the novel's many voices, I found the chapter from the perspective of a 16-year-old kayaker particularly captivating. Moss immerses us in the immediacy of youth - the restless vigour, the yearning for freedom, the exhilaration of slicing through the water - while allowing space for the reader to glimpse the uncertainties lingering just beneath the surface. This balance of vivacity and vulnerability is emblematic of Moss's skill in rendering the interior lives of her characters, who are as varied as the unpredictable weather that hems them in.
Family dynamics form the bedrock of the narrative, as Moss deftly sketches the tensions and fleeting moments of tenderness that make shared living simultaneously rewarding and exasperating. Each character's internal monologue brings to light the unspoken grievances, quiet anxieties, and moments of connection that populate their days. Through these insights, the novel explores themes of motherhood and societal judgment while also delving into personal struggles such as agoraphobia and OCD. These issues emerge organically, enriching the narrative without overshadowing the subtleties of the characters' lives.
The novel's tone, while often leavened by humour, carries a persistent undercurrent of unease as the holidaymakers' vulnerabilities gradually rise to the fore. Moss's particular talent for depicting female characters with levity and acuity adds both warmth and bite to the prose, striking a delicate balance between triviality and the darker shades of human experience. Her portrayal of family holidays captures a sense of claustrophobia, as well as the allure and foreboding of the natural world, with its unsettling weather patterns that mirror the characters' internal turbulence.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ 1/2