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A Spell of Winter
The inaugural winner of England's prestigious Orange Prize, A Spell of Winter is a compelling turn-of-the-century tale of innocence corrupted by secrecy, and the grace of second chances. Cathy and her brother, Rob, have forged a passionate refuge against the terror of loneliness and family secrets, but their sibling love becomes fraught with danger. As Catherine fights free of her dark present and haunting past, the spell of winter that has held her in its grasp begins to break. "Dunmore touches everything: skin, bone, frozen earth." -- Los Angeles Times Book Review "[A] literary page-turner." -- Publishers Weekly (starred review) "[A] modern Gothic." -- Library Journal
320 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1995
258 people are currently reading
4962 people want to read
About the author
Helen Dunmore
117 books965 followersI was born in December 1952, in Yorkshire, the second of four children. My father was the eldest of twelve, and this extended family has no doubt had a strong influence on my life, as have my own children. In a large family you hear a great many stories. You also come to understand very early that stories hold quite different meanings for different listeners, and can be recast from many viewpoints.
Poetry was very important to me from childhood. I began by listening to and learning by heart all kinds of rhymes and hymns and ballads, and then went on to make up my own poems, using the forms I’d heard. Writing these down came a little later.
I studied English at the University of York, and after graduation taught English as a foreign language in Finland.
At around this time I began to write the poems which formed my first poetry collection, The Apple Fall, and to publish these in magazines. I also completed two novels; fortunately neither survives, and it was more than ten years before I wrote another novel.
During this time I published several collections of poems, and wrote some of the short stories which were later collected in Love of Fat Men. I began to travel a great deal within the UK and around the world, for poetry tours and writing residences. This experience of working in many different countries and cultures has been very important to my work. I reviewed poetry for Stand and Poetry Review and later for The Observer, and subsequently reviewed fiction for The Observer, The Times and The Guardian. My critical work includes introductions to the poems of Emily Brontë, the short stories of D H Lawrence and F Scott Fitzgerald, a study of Virginia Woolf’s relationships with women and Introductions to the Folio Society's edition of Anna Karenina and to the new Penguin Classics edition of Tolstoy's My Confession.
During the 1980s and early 1990s I taught poetry and creative writing, tutored residential writing courses for the Arvon Foundation and took part in the Poetry Society's Writer in Schools scheme, as well as giving readings and workshops in schools, hospitals, prisons and every other kind of place where a poem could conceivably be welcome. I also taught at the University of Glamorgan, the University of Bristol's Continuing Education Department and for the Open College of the Arts.
In the late 1980s I began to publish short stories, and these were the beginning of a breakthrough into fiction. What I had learned of prose technique through the short story gave me the impetus to start writing novels. My first novel for children was Going to Egypt, published in 1992, and my first novel for adults was Zennor in Darkness, published in 1993, which won the McKitterick Prize. This was also my first researched novel, set in the First World War and dealing with the period when D H Lawrence and his wife Frieda lived in Zennor in Cornwall, and came under suspicion as German spies.
My third novel, A Spell of Winter, won the inaugural Orange Prize for Fiction in 1996, and since then I have published a number of novels, short story collections and books for children. Full details of all these books are available on this website. The last of The Ingo Quartet, The Crossing of Ingo, was published in paperback in Spring 2009.
My seventh novel, The Siege (2001) was shortlisted both for the Whitbread Novel Award and the Orange Prize for Fiction. This was another researched novel, which grew from a lifelong love of Russian history, culture and literature. It is is set in Leningrad during the first year of the siege of the city by German forces, which lasted for 880 days from the fall of Mga on 30th August 1941. The Siege has been translated into Russian by Tatyana Averchina, and extracts have been broadcast on radio in St Petersburg. House of Orphans was published in 2006, and in 2008 Counting the Stars. Its central characters are the Roman poet Catullus, who lived during the last years of the Republic,
Poetry was very important to me from childhood. I began by listening to and learning by heart all kinds of rhymes and hymns and ballads, and then went on to make up my own poems, using the forms I’d heard. Writing these down came a little later.
I studied English at the University of York, and after graduation taught English as a foreign language in Finland.
At around this time I began to write the poems which formed my first poetry collection, The Apple Fall, and to publish these in magazines. I also completed two novels; fortunately neither survives, and it was more than ten years before I wrote another novel.
During this time I published several collections of poems, and wrote some of the short stories which were later collected in Love of Fat Men. I began to travel a great deal within the UK and around the world, for poetry tours and writing residences. This experience of working in many different countries and cultures has been very important to my work. I reviewed poetry for Stand and Poetry Review and later for The Observer, and subsequently reviewed fiction for The Observer, The Times and The Guardian. My critical work includes introductions to the poems of Emily Brontë, the short stories of D H Lawrence and F Scott Fitzgerald, a study of Virginia Woolf’s relationships with women and Introductions to the Folio Society's edition of Anna Karenina and to the new Penguin Classics edition of Tolstoy's My Confession.
During the 1980s and early 1990s I taught poetry and creative writing, tutored residential writing courses for the Arvon Foundation and took part in the Poetry Society's Writer in Schools scheme, as well as giving readings and workshops in schools, hospitals, prisons and every other kind of place where a poem could conceivably be welcome. I also taught at the University of Glamorgan, the University of Bristol's Continuing Education Department and for the Open College of the Arts.
In the late 1980s I began to publish short stories, and these were the beginning of a breakthrough into fiction. What I had learned of prose technique through the short story gave me the impetus to start writing novels. My first novel for children was Going to Egypt, published in 1992, and my first novel for adults was Zennor in Darkness, published in 1993, which won the McKitterick Prize. This was also my first researched novel, set in the First World War and dealing with the period when D H Lawrence and his wife Frieda lived in Zennor in Cornwall, and came under suspicion as German spies.
My third novel, A Spell of Winter, won the inaugural Orange Prize for Fiction in 1996, and since then I have published a number of novels, short story collections and books for children. Full details of all these books are available on this website. The last of The Ingo Quartet, The Crossing of Ingo, was published in paperback in Spring 2009.
My seventh novel, The Siege (2001) was shortlisted both for the Whitbread Novel Award and the Orange Prize for Fiction. This was another researched novel, which grew from a lifelong love of Russian history, culture and literature. It is is set in Leningrad during the first year of the siege of the city by German forces, which lasted for 880 days from the fall of Mga on 30th August 1941. The Siege has been translated into Russian by Tatyana Averchina, and extracts have been broadcast on radio in St Petersburg. House of Orphans was published in 2006, and in 2008 Counting the Stars. Its central characters are the Roman poet Catullus, who lived during the last years of the Republic,
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 403 reviews
January 8, 2019
A Spell of Winter isn't lyrical so much as it is lulling. With the exception of a few bumbling sentences (such as "Elsie shudders exaggeratedly as she goes away in the early December dusk"), Dunmore's craft exudes an easy rhythm and dips in and out of the past and present with a fluidity akin to waves gently lapping at the shore.
This tale of forbidden love, dark secrets, and intimacy that crosses into dangerous territory, never quite delivers high stakes or tension, serious threat or heartbreak. The characters are distinctly peripheral; each one demonstrates a hazy carelessness, drifting along in a fog of apathy. Even the protagonist, Catherine, whose perspective we follow from start to finish, feels detached from her own narrative.
A Spell of Winter is the kind of book whose pages turn easily, not because of a compelling story or entrancing characters, but because Dunmore weaves a soft, dreamlike tale of first love and guilty secrets.
This tale of forbidden love, dark secrets, and intimacy that crosses into dangerous territory, never quite delivers high stakes or tension, serious threat or heartbreak. The characters are distinctly peripheral; each one demonstrates a hazy carelessness, drifting along in a fog of apathy. Even the protagonist, Catherine, whose perspective we follow from start to finish, feels detached from her own narrative.
A Spell of Winter is the kind of book whose pages turn easily, not because of a compelling story or entrancing characters, but because Dunmore weaves a soft, dreamlike tale of first love and guilty secrets.
But I also know that two people don't always need to tell things to one another. Secrets can cross from one person to the other without words, and suddenly you find that you've always known them. If a child was born from those two people, I wonder if it would be born knowing all their secrets, somewhere within it. Perhaps that's why I was born with such heaviness inside me.
July 8, 2020
This was the first winner of the Orange Prize (now the Women's Prize for Fiction), and I found it very impressive. The atmosphere and setting reminded me of a couple of my favourite William Trevor novels (Fools of Fortune and The Story of Lucy Gault - they share the decaying country house settings and the Anglo-Irish family settings, and they share the elegiac tone with darker overtones and the quality of the writing.
The plot describes the life of Catherine, who lives with her grandfather, her brother Rob and an Irish servant Kate in her grandfather's country house, which they struggle to maintain, after her mother has left her father and the family and the father has died. Largely left to fend for themselves, Cathy's relationship with Rob becomes unhealthily close, with tragic consequences which are played out at length against the historical backdrop of the immediate pre-Great War setting.
For the most part this is a beautiful book and a pleasure to read, despite a slightly melodramatic middle part.
The plot describes the life of Catherine, who lives with her grandfather, her brother Rob and an Irish servant Kate in her grandfather's country house, which they struggle to maintain, after her mother has left her father and the family and the father has died. Largely left to fend for themselves, Cathy's relationship with Rob becomes unhealthily close, with tragic consequences which are played out at length against the historical backdrop of the immediate pre-Great War setting.
For the most part this is a beautiful book and a pleasure to read, despite a slightly melodramatic middle part.
February 23, 2021
Британский роман-бинго из всех основных структурных и сюжетных опор британской литературы: предчувствия войны, тяжелого цветенья роз, угасающего поместья, неназываемого скандала, безумия и бедлама, выморочной любви, сельского бала, ирландской прислуги и тончайшего, чистого, вросшего в сам текст безупречного стиля.
Читая A Spell of Winter я все поражалась, как такое бывает – такая роскошь, такая избыточность, когда литература может себе позволить что-то промежуточное, просто прекрасно средний роман, в котором все гладко, продуманно, прошито и выписано. Данмор чуть-чуть выталкивает этот роман вперед разве что стилем , да и тот уже многократно знаком и обжит, весенняя зябкость нарциссов могла быть хоть у Боуэн, хоть у Леман, но, в остальном, это просто нормальное, обкатанное чтение, почти законченная история, живорожденный роман о людях в привычных, ненадоедающих декорациях, история семьи, которой не стало, и времени, которого не стало – все просто, все хорошо, все очень, очень ровно.
Читая A Spell of Winter я все поражалась, как такое бывает – такая роскошь, такая избыточность, когда литература может себе позволить что-то промежуточное, просто прекрасно средний роман, в котором все гладко, продуманно, прошито и выписано. Данмор чуть-чуть выталкивает этот роман вперед разве что стилем , да и тот уже многократно знаком и обжит, весенняя зябкость нарциссов могла быть хоть у Боуэн, хоть у Леман, но, в остальном, это просто нормальное, обкатанное чтение, почти законченная история, живорожденный роман о людях в привычных, ненадоедающих декорациях, история семьи, которой не стало, и времени, которого не стало – все просто, все хорошо, все очень, очень ровно.
October 4, 2019
I had such a strange reaction to this book: I loved this more than anything I have read in a long time, but when I started thinking about writing this review, I had the hardest time putting my finger on why. Its structure is a bit messy and tonally inconsistent; it doesn't really deliver anything promised on the blurb (not a fault in the book itself - but I think it's bound to frustrate a lot of readers who go into expecting a mystery or a Shirley Jackson-esque haunted mansion tale); but it really came together for me and gave me one of the most enthralling reading experiences I have had in a while.
A Spell of Winter is a difficult book to categorize and difficult to explain without giving too much away - but it follows siblings Cathy and Rob who have spent their lives in a quasi-abandoned manor in the English countryside which belonged to their parents; their father is now dead and their mother ran off when they were young. As adults, Cathy and Rob's relationship begins to develop into something forbidden, and it sets off a tragic chain of events that spread into the years of the First World War.
This was my first Helen Dunmore, which I decided to pick up as it won the inaugural Women's Prize for Fiction back when it was known as the Orange Prize, and the first thing that struck me about it was how enchanting I found her prose. Even when you get past the arresting first sentence ('"I saw an arm fall off a man once," said Kate') the writing itself continued to beguile - her prose is descriptive and evocative without being overly flowery; there was something distinctly reminiscent of Daphne du Maurier there, and indeed the book's setting and atmosphere called to mind Rebecca (though the comparisons really do stop there).
The other reason this book came alive for me is that Cathy was such a fascinating, sympathetic, well-developed character, and the depth of emotional complexity that Dunmore was able to excavate with this book was staggering. This book is about sexuality, societal restraints, and female agency, all examined through the lens of one woman's fraught relationship with her own family inheritance. It all sounds like a rather standard female-centric historical fiction novel, but Cathy's journey and Dunmore's psychological insights took on a hard edge that subverted all of my expectations and then some.
I don't think this is the kind of book that people intensely hate - I think it's more of a 'it was fine, nothing special' for a lot of readers. So again, it's hard to recommend this enthusiastically knowing that it's bound to fall flat for a lot of people who find themselves disappointed by the (anticlimactic?) direction it takes. But I was so utterly enchanted and riveted by this book, and I cannot wait to see what else Dunmore has to offer.
A Spell of Winter is a difficult book to categorize and difficult to explain without giving too much away - but it follows siblings Cathy and Rob who have spent their lives in a quasi-abandoned manor in the English countryside which belonged to their parents; their father is now dead and their mother ran off when they were young. As adults, Cathy and Rob's relationship begins to develop into something forbidden, and it sets off a tragic chain of events that spread into the years of the First World War.
This was my first Helen Dunmore, which I decided to pick up as it won the inaugural Women's Prize for Fiction back when it was known as the Orange Prize, and the first thing that struck me about it was how enchanting I found her prose. Even when you get past the arresting first sentence ('"I saw an arm fall off a man once," said Kate') the writing itself continued to beguile - her prose is descriptive and evocative without being overly flowery; there was something distinctly reminiscent of Daphne du Maurier there, and indeed the book's setting and atmosphere called to mind Rebecca (though the comparisons really do stop there).
The other reason this book came alive for me is that Cathy was such a fascinating, sympathetic, well-developed character, and the depth of emotional complexity that Dunmore was able to excavate with this book was staggering. This book is about sexuality, societal restraints, and female agency, all examined through the lens of one woman's fraught relationship with her own family inheritance. It all sounds like a rather standard female-centric historical fiction novel, but Cathy's journey and Dunmore's psychological insights took on a hard edge that subverted all of my expectations and then some.
I don't think this is the kind of book that people intensely hate - I think it's more of a 'it was fine, nothing special' for a lot of readers. So again, it's hard to recommend this enthusiastically knowing that it's bound to fall flat for a lot of people who find themselves disappointed by the (anticlimactic?) direction it takes. But I was so utterly enchanted and riveted by this book, and I cannot wait to see what else Dunmore has to offer.
November 21, 2023
I look at the house, still and breathless in the frost. I have got what I wanted. A spell of winter hangs over it, and everyone has gone.
Dunmore's writing is the star of the show here: gorgeously lyrical, evocative and atmospheric, alive with startling imagery and unexpected conjunctions. But there are too many long descriptions of woodland and flowers (so many flowers) that make the pace sluggish and congest the text.
This feels like early Dunmore as there's an aimless drift to the story: too much is obscure and unconvincing, and the shape is constructed from Gothic tropes that feel overdone and a bit lifeless. The two children, the asylum, the predatory governess, , the sudden emergence into WW1 never feel organic, more dropped in precisely because they are tropes. And that means there are no emotional stakes for me, just a constructness where the workings are too visible.
Dunmore's writing is put to more meaningful purpose in many of her other books: this one almost seems to suffocate under its own entrancing and perfumed lyricism.
November 23, 2023
This book is something very unusual. The title is fitting for an often chilling story that casts a spell on the willing reader.
To begin with, it’s very dreamy. I didn’t know where I was, and I didn’t understand the characters or their relationship with one another. It’s all very ephemeral, held together with a precarious structure, like a cobweb you see only when the mist settles on it. Dunmore seems to delight in being evasive, maybe a little too much.
But as I read, bits of the setting and characters started to come together, particularly the narrator Catherine. Once I got a feel for her, the book took off and became an enjoyable, compulsive read for me to the end.
“I wonder sometimes if it’s the people themselves who keep you company, or the idea of them. The idea you have of them.”
Catherine and her brother Rob grow up on a large but failing English country estate owned by their grandfather. They have been abandoned by their parents and raised by a servant not much older than them, Kate. The siblings’ relationship is both disturbing and tender, both outrageous and relatable. WWI is brewing, but the household dramas take center stage.
There’s an intense scene in the book after which Catherine is unsure of what really happened. The writing reflects that kind of state of mind: an uncertainty as to what is real and what is imagined.
Because of this, and also the beauty of the prose, it reminded me very much of To the Lighthouse, which I loved the first time for its revelations, but found frustratingly hard to follow on my second read. It also reminded me of The Awakening. Like those books, this is about observations and relationships and development and the impact of trauma.
I’d say you have to be in the right mood for this book, to be willing to wade through the narrative dream in a state of confusion to get to its revelations. I ended up finding it very impactful: sad and true and beautiful.
“There were always the two of us. There are two of us now. He hears our mother’s heartbeat, just as I do. A hard bump, then its echo. Her flesh fans out the sound into our soft bodies. He heard it before me. He feels the warmth of her and smells her skin. He will leave her body before I do, and he’ll be there, waiting for me, making sure I’m never alone.”
To begin with, it’s very dreamy. I didn’t know where I was, and I didn’t understand the characters or their relationship with one another. It’s all very ephemeral, held together with a precarious structure, like a cobweb you see only when the mist settles on it. Dunmore seems to delight in being evasive, maybe a little too much.
But as I read, bits of the setting and characters started to come together, particularly the narrator Catherine. Once I got a feel for her, the book took off and became an enjoyable, compulsive read for me to the end.
“I wonder sometimes if it’s the people themselves who keep you company, or the idea of them. The idea you have of them.”
Catherine and her brother Rob grow up on a large but failing English country estate owned by their grandfather. They have been abandoned by their parents and raised by a servant not much older than them, Kate. The siblings’ relationship is both disturbing and tender, both outrageous and relatable. WWI is brewing, but the household dramas take center stage.
There’s an intense scene in the book after which Catherine is unsure of what really happened. The writing reflects that kind of state of mind: an uncertainty as to what is real and what is imagined.
Because of this, and also the beauty of the prose, it reminded me very much of To the Lighthouse, which I loved the first time for its revelations, but found frustratingly hard to follow on my second read. It also reminded me of The Awakening. Like those books, this is about observations and relationships and development and the impact of trauma.
I’d say you have to be in the right mood for this book, to be willing to wade through the narrative dream in a state of confusion to get to its revelations. I ended up finding it very impactful: sad and true and beautiful.
“There were always the two of us. There are two of us now. He hears our mother’s heartbeat, just as I do. A hard bump, then its echo. Her flesh fans out the sound into our soft bodies. He heard it before me. He feels the warmth of her and smells her skin. He will leave her body before I do, and he’ll be there, waiting for me, making sure I’m never alone.”
October 11, 2025
Women's Prize Winner 1996 - The first ever women's prize.
We meet our protagonist Cathy when she is around fifteen. She lives with her brother Rob, their grandfather, and their Irish nanny, Kate.
The setting begins pre-World War 1, and the location is very isolated and atmospheric, and we only see our characters during winter.
Along with Cathy and Rob, we don't know why their parents left. We can only watch as they live with the reality of this, and as their relationship grows closer, complicated, taboo.
This book is written beautifully, the atmosphere leaps of the page and it was a joy to read. However, looking at it as a whole, I don't understand the point or what this book is. There are no real explanations or conclusions. The ending is odd and doesn't let us in on anything.
Or maybe it's too clever for me.
Regardless, I enjoyed the book. I'm just left a bit confused.
Three stars.
We meet our protagonist Cathy when she is around fifteen. She lives with her brother Rob, their grandfather, and their Irish nanny, Kate.
The setting begins pre-World War 1, and the location is very isolated and atmospheric, and we only see our characters during winter.
Along with Cathy and Rob, we don't know why their parents left. We can only watch as they live with the reality of this, and as their relationship grows closer, complicated, taboo.
This book is written beautifully, the atmosphere leaps of the page and it was a joy to read. However, looking at it as a whole, I don't understand the point or what this book is. There are no real explanations or conclusions. The ending is odd and doesn't let us in on anything.
Or maybe it's too clever for me.
Regardless, I enjoyed the book. I'm just left a bit confused.
Three stars.
November 22, 2023
This haunting and evocative novel was the first Orange Prize Winner and set a high standard for future hopefuls. Helen Dunmore creates a world which is at once understandable and yet totally different. Rob and Catherine live in virtual isolation in the crumbling old house belonging to their grandfather. It is gradually revealed to us that their mother has left and is living abroad, while their father, unable to cope without her, has been admitted to a sanitorium. We see events through the eyes of Cathy - a young girl who so resembles her mother that her grandfather can hardly bear to look at her, while their governess, the boy hating Miss Gallagher, harbours an obsessive and unhealthy love for her. Only Kate, the no nonsense Irish servant, brings some kind of stability to the children.
As Cathy and Rob grow older, the outside world intrudes. Cathy has a suitor, in the form of a rich neighbour; while Rob has the beautiful Livvy - as light as Cathy is dark. Yet, Rob and Cathy are thrown together too much, with too many secrets to bind them together. This is a novel of forbidden love, family secrets and how Cathy gradually becomes a woman and learns to understand what drove her mother away. This is a quiet and thought provoking read, which really packs a punch. Helen Dunmore has long been one of my favourite authors and I enjoyed revisiting this early novel.
As Cathy and Rob grow older, the outside world intrudes. Cathy has a suitor, in the form of a rich neighbour; while Rob has the beautiful Livvy - as light as Cathy is dark. Yet, Rob and Cathy are thrown together too much, with too many secrets to bind them together. This is a novel of forbidden love, family secrets and how Cathy gradually becomes a woman and learns to understand what drove her mother away. This is a quiet and thought provoking read, which really packs a punch. Helen Dunmore has long been one of my favourite authors and I enjoyed revisiting this early novel.
September 6, 2012
For whatever reason, I have some kind of secret (not to secret now) fascination for literary brother/sister incest stories. Maybe because I have no brothers and thus no frame of reference to get suitably skeeved out by it. But whatever, neither here nor there.
The trouble with this book was that it just plain loses you. Parts of it are good - her writing style is gorgeous in places, tedious in others - and frankly, I just had a hard time keeping up with what the hell was going on. You gotta have a long attention span for this one and a good eye for detail, both of which I can have when I'm suitably interested, but this one just didn't do it for me.
STILL better than Flowers in the Attic, though. Just sayin'.
The trouble with this book was that it just plain loses you. Parts of it are good - her writing style is gorgeous in places, tedious in others - and frankly, I just had a hard time keeping up with what the hell was going on. You gotta have a long attention span for this one and a good eye for detail, both of which I can have when I'm suitably interested, but this one just didn't do it for me.
STILL better than Flowers in the Attic, though. Just sayin'.
September 27, 2010
This book is a depressing text of the multi-generational misery of one family. I finished the book in hopes of discovery the answer to the family secrets but found no satisfaction there or anywhere else in this book. But somebody liked this book since it is a "Orange Winner" a prestigious award from England. I found it dreary and the characters worthy of a good slap and a "What the heck are you thinking/doing!"
March 24, 2019
Helen Dunmore was a British writer who produced an impressive amount of work over the past thirty years with dozens of novels, children's books, short stories and poetry collections. She's someone I always meant to read but never got around to. Sadly she died in 2017, but the following year her final poetry collection posthumously won the Costa Book Awards Book of the Year. Since I'm currently reading the novels longlisted for this year's Women's Prize I thought I'd go back and read Dunmore's “A Spell of Winter” which won this award's very first prize in 1996 (when it was known as the Orange Prize.) The story is told from the point of view of Catherine who grows up in a country estate with her brother Rob and their grandfather. Their father is housed in an asylum and their mother is a figure of local scandal who lives in France. The children are never told exactly what caused their family to splinter apart so they grow to rely solely on each other in this circumscribed world. But as they enter adulthood the close bond they share must be left behind though Catherine ardently wants things to remain the same. There are some very surprising twists in this novel and I'm still not entirely sure what to make of it.
Read my full review of A Spell of Winter by Helen Dunmore on LonesomeReader
Read my full review of A Spell of Winter by Helen Dunmore on LonesomeReader
September 10, 2020
3.5. I wanted to read this novel as it was the first recipient of the Women's Prize (then called the Orange Prize) in 1996. Catherine, the protagonist, grows up a closely matched pair with her brother, Rob, all the more so as their mother has left, their father is institutionalized, and their grandfather is remote. It's the Edwardian era, and their manor house is bordered by woodland and something of a sense of menace and encroachment.
Helen Dunmore's writing is incredibly atmospheric. She excels at wonderful descriptions of the landscape, from brambly, choking hedges with a sense of decay and branchy woodlands, to fresh soil being ploughed. I was especially taken with the last third or so of the book, as we move towards and into the First World War, and Catherine must decide her future in a very different present. There were parts earlier in the book when I felt that it was really too long, and the .
Helen Dunmore's writing is incredibly atmospheric. She excels at wonderful descriptions of the landscape, from brambly, choking hedges with a sense of decay and branchy woodlands, to fresh soil being ploughed. I was especially taken with the last third or so of the book, as we move towards and into the First World War, and Catherine must decide her future in a very different present. There were parts earlier in the book when I felt that it was really too long, and the .
January 30, 2021
This novel was the first winner of the Orange Prize for Fiction in 1996. I bought it after the book blogger Simon Savidge and his wonderful mother, Louise Savidge, started reading past winners of the Women's Prize for Fiction. The Orange Prize became the Bailey's Prize in 2012 and after 2017, the Women's Prize for Fiction. For the past two years, I have read a number of the longlisted titles, and look forward to the nominations and awards.
This novel is set in England in the era of World War I. The war starts later in the novel, which was the first clue to the time in which the story is set. Cathy and her brother Rob live on a rural estate with their grandfather. Their mother abandoned her family and left for warmer parts of Europe. Their father's health declined after this and he was eventually committed to a sanatorium where he died. The siblings are left to their own devices with only an unlikeable governess, and a single servant to see to their needs.
I read this book knowing little of the the plot, and I encourage others to avoid summaries of the novel that reveal far too much. It is a story that is at times enchanting, and at others, frightening. It is a sad tale, that is beautifully written.
This novel is set in England in the era of World War I. The war starts later in the novel, which was the first clue to the time in which the story is set. Cathy and her brother Rob live on a rural estate with their grandfather. Their mother abandoned her family and left for warmer parts of Europe. Their father's health declined after this and he was eventually committed to a sanatorium where he died. The siblings are left to their own devices with only an unlikeable governess, and a single servant to see to their needs.
I read this book knowing little of the the plot, and I encourage others to avoid summaries of the novel that reveal far too much. It is a story that is at times enchanting, and at others, frightening. It is a sad tale, that is beautifully written.
June 29, 2014
I hated the ending of this story. Rob just flounces off to Canada for no particular reason, and then he comes back and goes off to the war and we never find out what happened to him? And then Cathy finally meets up with her mother again, but we never find out why the mother left in the first place?
Ugh. I know the author is under no obligation to give her readers a happy ending, and I'm not sure how it could have happened in this case, but the story's resolution was just so disappointing and unsatisfying.
Ugh. I know the author is under no obligation to give her readers a happy ending, and I'm not sure how it could have happened in this case, but the story's resolution was just so disappointing and unsatisfying.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
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February 2, 2020DNF. This is the second Dunmore I've tried. I don't think she is one for me unfortunately.
March 28, 2021
A Spell of Winter is the first winner of the Women’s Prize for Fiction, back then it was called The Orange Prize. Coincidentally it was the last book I had to read in order to complete my ongoing project (of many) to read all of The Women’s Prize winners.
The book takes place during pre first World War Britain and focuses on two children; Cathleen and her brother Rob. When both children were young, their mother ran away, Something their father was not able to accept and it eventually leads to madness.
With both parents gone, Catherine and Rob go and live with their grandfather in a mansion and befriend the helpers there. Eventually Catherine and Rob develop feelings for each other and the relationship becomes close. This leads to consequences and repercussions Catherine has to go through.
On one hand I liked the way the novel is insightful: Catherine’s state of mind when she finds out that the world is changing, the minute descriptions of all the characters and the little twists and turns in the narrative. yet, I found this book to be dull. I know the characters go through a lot but I felt nothing for them. Although I do like good writing, it does cross that fine line into being overwrought – sometimes the melodrama is amped up and other times it goes into overload.
I do know that this is a novel that is loved but unfortunately it did nothing for me.
The book takes place during pre first World War Britain and focuses on two children; Cathleen and her brother Rob. When both children were young, their mother ran away, Something their father was not able to accept and it eventually leads to madness.
With both parents gone, Catherine and Rob go and live with their grandfather in a mansion and befriend the helpers there. Eventually Catherine and Rob develop feelings for each other and the relationship becomes close. This leads to consequences and repercussions Catherine has to go through.
On one hand I liked the way the novel is insightful: Catherine’s state of mind when she finds out that the world is changing, the minute descriptions of all the characters and the little twists and turns in the narrative. yet, I found this book to be dull. I know the characters go through a lot but I felt nothing for them. Although I do like good writing, it does cross that fine line into being overwrought – sometimes the melodrama is amped up and other times it goes into overload.
I do know that this is a novel that is loved but unfortunately it did nothing for me.
April 25, 2022
This book was like a dream. Dunmore’s fluid style, her depictions of English countryside, and her oddly flawed characters all seem like things I have seen whilst sleeping. There’s a lazy quality here, something difficult to describe, but something which is nonetheless compelling and confusing all at once.
Family secrets, forbidden relationships, and existences bordering on isolation all contribute to feelings of claustrophobia and confinement. Our protagonist’s attempts to make sense of her life and understand her feelings of abandonment are filled with shame, guilt, and self-deprecation. It’s a sorrowful picture, and although I often struggled to empathise, I was still dragged under the melancholy veil as we both suffocated through this life.
Although I was expecting more plot, and more revelation, this is more a study of sadness or an exploration of family. The entire extent of their secrets never was revealed to me, and my nose for scandal was never fully rewarded. The scandal I did see, however, was enough to ensure my nose returned pointing firmly at my feet, and I’m sure my eyes and ears tried to close themselves at certain points also.
A very difficult book to explain, never mind review. Since I’ve now done both this week (apologies to my baffled friend who had to sit through the strange explanations), I’m ready to cast off this hallucinatory novel and remember it fondly as one of the odd little black sheep who sometimes wander onto my bookshelves with no discernible origin.
Family secrets, forbidden relationships, and existences bordering on isolation all contribute to feelings of claustrophobia and confinement. Our protagonist’s attempts to make sense of her life and understand her feelings of abandonment are filled with shame, guilt, and self-deprecation. It’s a sorrowful picture, and although I often struggled to empathise, I was still dragged under the melancholy veil as we both suffocated through this life.
Although I was expecting more plot, and more revelation, this is more a study of sadness or an exploration of family. The entire extent of their secrets never was revealed to me, and my nose for scandal was never fully rewarded. The scandal I did see, however, was enough to ensure my nose returned pointing firmly at my feet, and I’m sure my eyes and ears tried to close themselves at certain points also.
A very difficult book to explain, never mind review. Since I’ve now done both this week (apologies to my baffled friend who had to sit through the strange explanations), I’m ready to cast off this hallucinatory novel and remember it fondly as one of the odd little black sheep who sometimes wander onto my bookshelves with no discernible origin.
November 5, 2012
An absent mother and dying father leave Catherine and her brother Rob in pseudo-isolation, encouraging the relationship between them to grow intense and intimate. But when that relationship begins to break down, Catherine alone must reconstruct the fragments of her life. A Spell of Winter is a dream of a book, disjointed, atmospheric, and cold. However effective that atmosphere, it deadens the intensity of relationships and characters's sufferings. The right elements are there: a complex and distinct protagonist, a gothic (dark, often intense) view of relationships and experiences with a poetic (if unrefined) voice to match, and a well-intended character arc. But the book only floats along--surprisingly explicit in some aspects, it still leaves too many secrets to linger in implication; its tone is always cold, dreamy, disconnected, and its impact follows suit. I'm predisposed to love half a dozen tropes in A Spell of Winter, but to my surprise the book did nothing for me. The intent is there, and the book isn't a waste, but in its heart it stays frozen. I don't recommend it.
January 4, 2018
Return to Bronte Country
If one of the Brontes had written a novel set a century later, would it have turned out like this? There is the same harsh northern landscape, the same tug of forbidden passions, family secrets similarly buried, and the familiar situation of the rich bachelor a distant figure on the neighboring estate. But the sexual frankness belongs to a much later period still, and there is also a modern sensibility in the heroine's path to self-realization, not through others but on her own terms. This is a most enjoyable book, if not an especially deep one, a sort of Bronte meets Lawrence meets McEwan. It might have been stronger had the approach of WW1 been heralded earlier, and had the impact of that conflict not so radically separated the ending pages from the rest, but this is a relatively small flaw.
If one of the Brontes had written a novel set a century later, would it have turned out like this? There is the same harsh northern landscape, the same tug of forbidden passions, family secrets similarly buried, and the familiar situation of the rich bachelor a distant figure on the neighboring estate. But the sexual frankness belongs to a much later period still, and there is also a modern sensibility in the heroine's path to self-realization, not through others but on her own terms. This is a most enjoyable book, if not an especially deep one, a sort of Bronte meets Lawrence meets McEwan. It might have been stronger had the approach of WW1 been heralded earlier, and had the impact of that conflict not so radically separated the ending pages from the rest, but this is a relatively small flaw.
March 7, 2013
Of all Helen Dunmore's books, this is my very favourite. I've read it twice and plan on reading it again because it is a truly beautifully written, haunting tale. The chill which has taken hold of the crumbling previously grand country house and its occupants is almost tangible - you will get cold fingers just holding the book and turning the pages. The house and characters are both occupied by dark secrets and watching the evolution/aftermath which is derived from them makes for compulsive reading. An established and creatively realised plot and characters who seem to step forth from the page, it also has the best sex scene I've ever read in any book (and I've read a lot of both books and sex scenes! I've even written a few myself). I am reviewing this after Goodreads recommend I read it - just shows how spot on they are at assessing your reading tastes because I think you will see from this review, I loved this one.
January 3, 2015
This tale of a brother and sister in the English countryside is gorgeous, uncomfortable, lyrical, sad and hopeful. Dunmore captures a mood and plunges you into it without mercy. It's a bit of a demanding read--Dunmore leaps across time and space, her narrative mirroring the way people think, but as a result, you are immersed completely. She doesn't rationalize or explain away her characters' actions, but simply presents them without judgment, and while the characters may be difficult to like, they are certainly never dull. It's not a perfect book, but I loved it--stories with this kind of emotional heft, without melodrama, are hard to find. I'm still thinking about it days later, and I was moved deeply by the story.
November 28, 2021
A wonderfully written saga of love and decline both in the class system and amongst a pair of siblings.
You could feel the cold and the snow and hear the crunch of footsteps on frost.
Cathy and Rob are semi feral, left to grow up in a rambling house with their Grandfather and beloved servants they soon discover nothing lasts forever.
You could feel the cold and the snow and hear the crunch of footsteps on frost.
Cathy and Rob are semi feral, left to grow up in a rambling house with their Grandfather and beloved servants they soon discover nothing lasts forever.
November 11, 2021
Много “студена” история - отчасти защото се развива през зимата, в селска Англия, началото на 20-ти век. Историята за двамата самотни герои резонира със сезона. Стилът не е лош, събужда вълнение. Но самата история остава недовършена и в нищото. Авторката изобщо не позволява надзъртане в душите на героите си, поради което накрая остава една голяма неяснота.
За мен заключението е, че има неща, които не трябва да се премълчават между влюбени (колкото и “грешно” да е) и от друга страна, да изоставиш любим човек точно, когато е най-уязвим и несигурен, с каквито и благородни и морални мотиви да си го направил, колкото и да е “правилно”, води до фатален край и за изоставения, и за изоставящия. В този смисъл ПСВ внесе някаква, макар и минимална, завършеност, но останалото си е чист писателски мързел и нежелание за задълбаване.
За мен заключението е, че има неща, които не трябва да се премълчават между влюбени (колкото и “грешно” да е) и от друга страна, да изоставиш любим човек точно, когато е най-уязвим и несигурен, с каквито и благородни и морални мотиви да си го направил, колкото и да е “правилно”, води до фатален край и за изоставения, и за изоставящия. В този смисъл ПСВ внесе някаква, макар и минимална, завършеност, но останалото си е чист писателски мързел и нежелание за задълбаване.
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February 13, 2020Yeah, I'm not really feeling this.
Maybe I will pick it up again some time later, maybe I won't, who knows.
Bye bye for now!
Maybe I will pick it up again some time later, maybe I won't, who knows.
Bye bye for now!
September 30, 2012
I read Helen Dunmore’s novel With Your Crooked Heart many years ago and I’ve been a fan ever since. Dunmore’s prose is like poetry, every sentence a perfect balance between beauty and truth. Winner of the 1996 Orange Prize, A Spell of Winter is the fourth novel I’ve read by her, and I have also read her collection of short stories, Ice Cream.
A Spell of Winter concerns the lives of Cathy and Rob, siblings who live in a crumbling manor house in England. Their guardian is their maternal grandfather, “the man from nowhere”, and through Cathy’s eyes he is seen as stern and unsympathetic.
When A Spell of Winter begins Rob is nine and Cathy, our narrator, is seven. They are on their way, with Miss Gallagher, to visit their father in the sanatorium. It’s a traumatic visit – and also marks the last time the children will see their father alive.
The children’s lives are isolated and insular. Cathy remarks:
I look at the house, still and breathless in the frost. I have got what I wanted. A spell of winter hangs over it, and everyone has gone.
Perhaps it is isolation, perhaps it is abandonment, but eventually Cathy and Rob cross the line. Their story reminds me of another pair of British siblings who become lovers: Cathy and Christopher, protagonists of Carolyn Slaughter’s magnificent novel Relations (also published as The Story of the Weasel.) With a huge house to creep around in and no one to pay attention to them except Kate, their trusted servant, Cathy and Rob fall into a strange spell of their own.
A Spell of Winter has many of the Gothic hallmarks: the gloomy dwelling, a sense of mystery, a distressed heroine. As long as Cathy and Rob are isolated, they manage to sustain their relationship. But like winter, it can’t last. Eventually, the real world seeps in in ways both expected and unexpected.
I loved A Spell of Winter. It’s not a ‘love’ story in the way Relations is. I wasn’t rooting for Cathy and Rob. I was rooting for Cathy. She is abandoned many times during her life, but her resilient nature, whether through necessity or tenacity, keeps her going. The language is beautiful. And the story, despite its dark subject matter, is brimming with the promise of spring.
A Spell of Winter concerns the lives of Cathy and Rob, siblings who live in a crumbling manor house in England. Their guardian is their maternal grandfather, “the man from nowhere”, and through Cathy’s eyes he is seen as stern and unsympathetic.
When A Spell of Winter begins Rob is nine and Cathy, our narrator, is seven. They are on their way, with Miss Gallagher, to visit their father in the sanatorium. It’s a traumatic visit – and also marks the last time the children will see their father alive.
The children’s lives are isolated and insular. Cathy remarks:
I look at the house, still and breathless in the frost. I have got what I wanted. A spell of winter hangs over it, and everyone has gone.
Perhaps it is isolation, perhaps it is abandonment, but eventually Cathy and Rob cross the line. Their story reminds me of another pair of British siblings who become lovers: Cathy and Christopher, protagonists of Carolyn Slaughter’s magnificent novel Relations (also published as The Story of the Weasel.) With a huge house to creep around in and no one to pay attention to them except Kate, their trusted servant, Cathy and Rob fall into a strange spell of their own.
A Spell of Winter has many of the Gothic hallmarks: the gloomy dwelling, a sense of mystery, a distressed heroine. As long as Cathy and Rob are isolated, they manage to sustain their relationship. But like winter, it can’t last. Eventually, the real world seeps in in ways both expected and unexpected.
I loved A Spell of Winter. It’s not a ‘love’ story in the way Relations is. I wasn’t rooting for Cathy and Rob. I was rooting for Cathy. She is abandoned many times during her life, but her resilient nature, whether through necessity or tenacity, keeps her going. The language is beautiful. And the story, despite its dark subject matter, is brimming with the promise of spring.
January 24, 2021
This book is about a woman named Cathy who is trapped in the life she is living, out in the English countryside, because she is scared to go anywhere or do anything. It's ok for others to go off and see places but she can't because she always finds some kind of logical excuse. And that's why she's trapped in "winter", with her life not really moving forward at all even though the years are passing..
There are some very shocking things in this book even though one might think Cathy is living a very boring life. She's a bit unbalanced at times. Some of the things she does might actually shock you! They certainly surprised me! The first thing seemed to come out of nowhere and I had to reread the scene about three times to make sure that yes, that is indeed what it said. And it leaves me asking how could she do that??
Wonderful descriptions too. The environment really comes to life. That's definitely one of the things I loved about the book...but it was the story itself that kept me reading.
There is a war mentioned in this book and while they don't actually name the war at all, I'm guessing it may be world war one??
At the beginning I did find it a bit confusing as there were some sudden time jumps but later the story settled down and there was no more confusion. And the story picks up about a third of the way through, once you hit that first shocking scene. And when you reach it, you'll know that's the scene! But Cathy is living a sad, lonely life so the book can seem gloomy.
There are some very shocking things in this book even though one might think Cathy is living a very boring life. She's a bit unbalanced at times. Some of the things she does might actually shock you! They certainly surprised me! The first thing seemed to come out of nowhere and I had to reread the scene about three times to make sure that yes, that is indeed what it said. And it leaves me asking how could she do that??
Wonderful descriptions too. The environment really comes to life. That's definitely one of the things I loved about the book...but it was the story itself that kept me reading.
There is a war mentioned in this book and while they don't actually name the war at all, I'm guessing it may be world war one??
At the beginning I did find it a bit confusing as there were some sudden time jumps but later the story settled down and there was no more confusion. And the story picks up about a third of the way through, once you hit that first shocking scene. And when you reach it, you'll know that's the scene! But Cathy is living a sad, lonely life so the book can seem gloomy.
April 13, 2013
A Spell of Winter follows the lives of Cathy and Rob before, during and after World War I. Their mother abandons the family home when they are children and their father dies, leaving them to grow up in a decaying mansion cut off from the rest of the world. Their sense of isolation and dependency on each other mutates into incest. It is testament to the strength of Dunmore’s writing that she delivers truths about love and loss through the vehicle of such ingrained taboo. I didn’t merely believe in their relationship, I wholeheartedly rooted for it. For me, that is the power of writing, right there.
Of the powerful symbolism in the book, I was most struck by the moving boundary between what is natural and what is man-made. When Cathy finds herself alone in the mansion, everyone else long gone, nature starts to reclaim it, room by room. And it is hidden away in forests and snow dens that the novel’s most shocking scenes take place. Cathy leads her governess, the monstrous Miss Gallagher, deep into the woods and frightens her to death with talk of ghosts. Concealed inside a rough hideout of snow and branches she and her brother first cross the line into a physical relationship. Removed from the artificial construct of society, everything returns to the basics of sex and death.
Of the powerful symbolism in the book, I was most struck by the moving boundary between what is natural and what is man-made. When Cathy finds herself alone in the mansion, everyone else long gone, nature starts to reclaim it, room by room. And it is hidden away in forests and snow dens that the novel’s most shocking scenes take place. Cathy leads her governess, the monstrous Miss Gallagher, deep into the woods and frightens her to death with talk of ghosts. Concealed inside a rough hideout of snow and branches she and her brother first cross the line into a physical relationship. Removed from the artificial construct of society, everything returns to the basics of sex and death.
December 6, 2008
“It is winter, my season…. My winter excitement quickened each year with the approach of darkness. I wanted the thermometer to drop lower and lower until not even a trace of mercury showed against the figures. I wanted us to wake to a kingdom of ice where our breath would turn to icicles as it left our lips, and we would walk through tunnels of snow to the outhouses and find birds fallen dead from the air. I willed the snow to lie for ever, and I turned over and buried my head under the pillow so as not to hear the chuckle and drip of thaw….”
Dunmore is a lovely lyrical writer and the book is strangely affecting. It’s about a young woman, her brother, and a strange life with absent parents and the odd characters who are there in their place.
Reading this book made me feel the way I felt when I watched The Piano or Angels and Insects, or read Donna Tartt’s The Secret History. If you’ve read or watched those stories, you might know what I mean. They are stories in which things are so odd and sort of awful, but you get pulled in and start to feel the weight of the events surrounding the most normal of things, like the eating of a piece of cheese.
Dunmore is a lovely lyrical writer and the book is strangely affecting. It’s about a young woman, her brother, and a strange life with absent parents and the odd characters who are there in their place.
Reading this book made me feel the way I felt when I watched The Piano or Angels and Insects, or read Donna Tartt’s The Secret History. If you’ve read or watched those stories, you might know what I mean. They are stories in which things are so odd and sort of awful, but you get pulled in and start to feel the weight of the events surrounding the most normal of things, like the eating of a piece of cheese.
December 16, 2011
I'll give this 3.5 stars. Yes, it was haunting and somewhat dark in it's mood, but it was also creepy. Not scary creepy, creepy weird. The characters have unnatural attachments and feelings, it was an interesting read.
September 27, 2019
Told in gorgeous prose, A Spell of Winter is a strangely beguiling tale that explores forbidden love, the burden of secrets, and the struggle to escape the cloying inheritance of family.
Set largely in the build up to WWI, the story is narrated by Catherine, a young woman who feels increasingly cut off from the outside world. Abandoned by her mother as a child, embarrassed by the mental breakdown of her father that led to his hospitalisation, and ignored by the grandfather who finds too much pain in her resemblance to his absent daughter, she clings to her brother, Rob, for comfort. Hunkering down for the winter in their secluded, crumbling mansion, their mutual misplaced need for love takes their relationship down a dark and dangerous path that will pit them against the few who remain close to them.
First and foremost, Dunmore’s prose is stunning. With her sumptuous use of words, she evokes a rich, gothic setting, and a quietly sinister and claustrophobic atmosphere that I adored. Her characters are complex, difficult to root for and yet oddly sympathetic for all their flaws. By presenting them and their often deplorable actions without judgement, she asks us to question human boundaries, allowing the reader to draw their own conclusions in many instances.
There’s a subtle yet deftly handled thread throughout that explores the construct of society, and how quickly we can revert to basic animal instincts when removed from its grasp. Though the house has a dominating presence, many of the book’s key moments – instances of sex, violence, conflict, and death – all take place in the surrounding wildlands. As the book progresses, nature begins to reclaim the old mansion, and Catherine finds satisfaction and meaning through her work on the land. I thought this understated yet powerful sense that we are not so far removed from the natural world was handled really well.
I also very much enjoyed the book’s unconventional look at the idea of female autonomy. Catherine – like her mother before her – takes charge of her life in unexpected ways that defy social convention. Both arguably felt ensnared and defined by their role within the family, and both must find their own ways to break the chain of inheritance, both literal and metaphorical.
I was all set to give this book five stars throughout the first two thirds or so. The rich, lilting quality instantly captured me, its use of gothic hallmarks right up my street. In the final third, however, there is something of a tonal shift. Whilst the book retains its sumptuous edge, the coming of the war redresses the characters’ focus and priorities. Whilst this makes complete narrative sense, I was so enraptured by the air of quiet eeriness that I couldn’t help but feel a little sad to see the goalposts shift somewhat.
All that said, this is a uniquely compelling read that ticked so many of my boxes, I won’t be at all surprised if it stays with me for quite some time. With its blend of beautiful writing, gripping narrative, and cleverly handled deeper themes, it’s easy to understand why this was the inaugural winner of the Women’s Prize for Fiction. Given that she has an extensive back catalogue of work to her name, I’m excited to see what else Dunmore went on to write.
Set largely in the build up to WWI, the story is narrated by Catherine, a young woman who feels increasingly cut off from the outside world. Abandoned by her mother as a child, embarrassed by the mental breakdown of her father that led to his hospitalisation, and ignored by the grandfather who finds too much pain in her resemblance to his absent daughter, she clings to her brother, Rob, for comfort. Hunkering down for the winter in their secluded, crumbling mansion, their mutual misplaced need for love takes their relationship down a dark and dangerous path that will pit them against the few who remain close to them.
First and foremost, Dunmore’s prose is stunning. With her sumptuous use of words, she evokes a rich, gothic setting, and a quietly sinister and claustrophobic atmosphere that I adored. Her characters are complex, difficult to root for and yet oddly sympathetic for all their flaws. By presenting them and their often deplorable actions without judgement, she asks us to question human boundaries, allowing the reader to draw their own conclusions in many instances.
There’s a subtle yet deftly handled thread throughout that explores the construct of society, and how quickly we can revert to basic animal instincts when removed from its grasp. Though the house has a dominating presence, many of the book’s key moments – instances of sex, violence, conflict, and death – all take place in the surrounding wildlands. As the book progresses, nature begins to reclaim the old mansion, and Catherine finds satisfaction and meaning through her work on the land. I thought this understated yet powerful sense that we are not so far removed from the natural world was handled really well.
I also very much enjoyed the book’s unconventional look at the idea of female autonomy. Catherine – like her mother before her – takes charge of her life in unexpected ways that defy social convention. Both arguably felt ensnared and defined by their role within the family, and both must find their own ways to break the chain of inheritance, both literal and metaphorical.
I was all set to give this book five stars throughout the first two thirds or so. The rich, lilting quality instantly captured me, its use of gothic hallmarks right up my street. In the final third, however, there is something of a tonal shift. Whilst the book retains its sumptuous edge, the coming of the war redresses the characters’ focus and priorities. Whilst this makes complete narrative sense, I was so enraptured by the air of quiet eeriness that I couldn’t help but feel a little sad to see the goalposts shift somewhat.
All that said, this is a uniquely compelling read that ticked so many of my boxes, I won’t be at all surprised if it stays with me for quite some time. With its blend of beautiful writing, gripping narrative, and cleverly handled deeper themes, it’s easy to understand why this was the inaugural winner of the Women’s Prize for Fiction. Given that she has an extensive back catalogue of work to her name, I’m excited to see what else Dunmore went on to write.
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