Fire Rush

by Jacqueline Crooks, Karine Guerre (Translator), Nathalie Carré (Translator)

1979, banlieue industrielle de Londres. La jeune Yamaye vit seule avec son père dans une cité-dortoir et travaille de nuit à l’usine. Le week-end, direction la Crypte, le club underground où elle oublie son quotidien morose. Musique dub et reggae dancehall galvanisent les corps. Là, au cœur du temple de la diaspora jamaïcaine et dans les effluves de ganja, on y parle politique et abus policiers.
Un soir, elle danse avec Moose et s’engage dans une histoire d’amour qui lui fait caresser l’espoir de pouvoir s’émanciper de sa condition. Mais un drame scelle le destin de la jeune femme, qui se lance alors dans une quête d’elle-même et de ses origines.
De gang en rave, d’amour en débâcles, de Bristol à la Jamaïque, Fire Rush est un premier roman électrisant à la langue chamarrée et combative.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Literary Fiction, Music, Audiobook, Historical, Race

433 pages, Kindle Edition

First published March 2, 2023

Reviews

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fire Rush is a searing work from Jacqueline Crooks. The story is set among the Jamaican diasporic community in the early Thatcher years, first in London and environs, with later stops in Bristol and Cockpit Country, Jamaica. The opening chapters are particularly evocative, depicting the underground dub scene in the late 70s, with daytime scenes marked by deadly violence that feels both unpredictable and inevitable. Crooks has spoken about her novel illuminating the politics of invisibility - a particularly apt description for the London chapters where characters are both seen and unseen, and young people dance the night away in an underground crypt. The early scenes might be the most memorable, but I thought the novel really took off in the Bristol chapters, the hazy vibes from the London section crystalizing into a dark and toxic b-side. Although the book probably could have used a tighter edit, I appreciated what Crooks was doing so much that I didn't mind. Dub is a genre that largely exists in music and poetry; it's interesting to see Crooks work the form into her novel. Music and dance play a huge role in this book - influences that Crooks pulls off nicely. Crooks also infuses the work with Jamaican patois, particularly in dialogue, which elevates this from a solid coming of age story to an evocative and memorable work.

[Sujoya - theoverbookedbibliophile · Rating 4 out of 5]

**Shortlisted for the 2023 Women’s Fiction Prize**

4.25⭐️

Set in the late 1970s and 80s Fire Rush by Jacqueline Crooks follows second-generation Jamaican –British Yamaye, as she embarks on a journey of self-discovery. We meet her in her early twenties, living with her father, who, for the most part, ignores her in a run-down apartment complex in Norwood, London. Her mother, a midwife, never returned from a work trip to Jamaica when she was a child. Working a night-shift factory job, the only vibrant aspect of her life is the time she spends with her friends at The Crypt, an underground dub reggae club amidst the music and the ganja clouds, or in the local record store. When she meets Moose, a carpenter and fellow Jamaican, at the club, she begins to dream of a life different from her own. But when tragedy strikes and violence erupts, she escapes to Bristol with a recent acquaintance who forces her into a life of crime. Fortunately for her, she finds a way out. Eventually, she travels to Jamaica on a quest of a more personal nature, but will she find what she is looking for?

“Because nowhere’s safe–not the streets, governed by police with barbed-wire veins; not our homes, ruled by men with power fists as misshapen as their wounds. The only place to live and rage from is our hearts.”

With its compelling characters and and intense (at times suffocating, fever dream-like) narrative that flows with a pulsating rhythm, Fire Rush by Jacqueline Crooks is unlike any other book I have read. The author states that this novel is a fictionalized account of her own life. The tone of this novel is dark and forceful, yet poetic. The author uses vivid imagery to describe the dub reggae scene and the underground club culture of the era. The impact of racial tensions and surveillance and social and economic inequality on the Jamaican diaspora, in particular, is explored in great detail. In Yamaye we see a young Black woman searching for her voice, lonely in a crowd, craving for a sense of acceptance and belongingness, trying to fill a void in her life left by the absence of her mother and her mostly indifferent father with music, with friends, and with relationships among other things. Her journey is a difficult one largely impacted by the volatile socio-political landscape of the era and fraught with questionable choices and untrustworthy characters, but we keep rooting for her as her search eventually takes her on a journey of self-awareness, instilling in her a sense of worth and hope for a brighter future. The only constants throughout her journey are her music, her innermost thoughts, which she expresses through the same medium and the voice of her mother she hears in moments of utmost despair. The author addresses themes of racism, police brutality, violence and crime as well as self-discovery, spiritualism, and the mysticism of Jamaica to create an absorbing narrative. The dialect (Jamaican patois) took a while for me to get used to, but overall, this is a stunning debut that I could not put down.

[Paromjit · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an incredible must read debut from Jacqueline Crooks that captures the turbulent, challenging and stressful history of black British lives, more particularly black women, of the late 1970s and early 1980s. This includes the terrifying racism, the brutality and black deaths at the hands of the police, undercover police surveillance, informants, dance and music, the protests, riots, the far right, and the Anti-Nazi League. Yamaye lives at the Tombstone estate, Norwood, West London, with her poopa Irving, staying hoping for his love and need to learn more about her muma, a midwife who died in Guyana, when she was a child. She fills the inner vacuum inside with dancing at the Crypt at the weekends with her friends, Asase, the leader, and the Irish Rumer, where skanking is survival.

It is more than dancing, dub is everything, a fire, a guide, a path to the soul and the past, her friends, connecting with ghosts, a core sense of identity, it is who she is. Yamaye then meets Moose, her life fundamentally shifting as she falls in love, finding a peace and a promise of a different future in Jamaica. However, this is all set to be shattered when a tragedy occurs, and matters are exacerbated when her friendships are broken, unbearable cracks begin to appear. Fighting for justice, brings unwelcome police surveillance into Yamaye's life, it all becomes too much and she runs to the sanctuary offered by Monassa at the Safe House in Bristol. It turns out to be far from safe, facing a criminal gang, a controlling predator and a protector, it's a predicament that has her feeling shame.

All is not lost, Yamaye bides her time, the fire inside her is burning as she plays the decks, finding herself in the music, culminating in her past meeting her present when she travels to Jamaica, to find out about her muma, and connect with the other love of her life, Moose, through his resourceful Granny Itiba, who can be relied on when a past problem once again rears its head. This is a read that grabbed me almost instantly, it is exquisitely written, lyrical and vibrant, and I quickly became accustomed to the Jamaican patois. I really felt for Yamaye and what she went through and her transformation, her love of dub reggae, in this sublime and compelling character driven historical novel, of love, loss, freedom, and its eye opening insights in what it was like to be black woman in this period of British history. Highly recommended. Many thanks to the publisher for an ARC.

[Roman Clodia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Now longlisted for the Women's Prize 2023 - I'd love to see this win!

One o'clock in the morning. Hotfoot, all three of us. Stepping where we had no business. Tombstone Estate gyals - Caribbean, Irish. No one expects better. We ain't IT. But we sure ain't shit. All we need is a likkle bit of riddim. So we go inna it, deep, into the dance-hall Crypt.

Loved the voice; loved the narrator, Yamaye, loved her journey. This is full of urban energy with a textual soundtrack that makes me want to go clubbing. But Crooks has done more than capture a vibe, a sound, a feel - she's crafted a book that follows a conventional narrative arc of the journey from trauma to finding roots and a form of stability, but she does it in a voice that is totally her own.

Characterisation is deft and not laboured; the chemistry between Yamaye and Moose is off the page. There's nothing naive or amateur about the craft that has gone into this book: it's slick and artful while feeling spontaneous and irreverent. The part set in Jamaica doesn't have quite the dynamism of the London scenes but the journey is crucial.

For my money, Crooks is an author to watch.

Thanks to the publisher for an ARC via NetGalley.

[Ceecee · Rating 5 out of 5]

4 - 5 stars
Timeline:-1979- early 1980’s

This is Yamaye’s story, she lives on Tombstone Estate in Norwood, West London. She and her best friends Asase, who is definitely the leader, and Irish born Rumer live for the weekends. Their lives revolve around The Crypt where they dance in the dark, dub fills them up with its rhythm and its soul linking them to their past. Everything changes for the tight knit three when Yamaye meets Moose, their love deep. This is a time of danger and tragedy strikes and hearts are broken. Set against a backdrop of protests, riots and police brutality, Yamaye leaves London for Bristol but cannot break free of those who seek to contain and control her. Her story shifts to Jamaica, her spiritual home but past and present are on a collision course.

This is a very powerful debut novel and though it takes a while to tune into the Jamaican patois you get the gist and I absolutely love its vibrancy and you feel it’s ‘riddim’. Throughout the entirety of the book the writing is so vivid, the descriptions and language feels poetic and the infusion of dub is wonderfully resonant. Through Yamaye you experience the escapist rhythm of the dances in The Crypt, the music, the culture, the history especially of the Maroons but most of all the spiritualism with its links to history but also it’s ghosts. I love this element and it’s described so well it often feels other worldly and almost an out of body experience.

Yamaye is a fantastic central protagonist and narrator as she makes you feel as if you too are living the injustice and sharing the love and grief. In the background and more often than not in the foreground, we confront the riots, the suspicion, the fear and the claustrophobia of being watched. You root for her in Bristol and in Jamaica hoping she finds what she seeks.

It’s full of amazing characters some with good hearts such as Moose and others who have dark souls but all are portrayed so well you see them with your minds eye.

This novel takes you on an emotional and unforgettable journey. I love the multiple images of fire such as the fire rush inna me bredrin which appear cleverly throughout. This is a terrific debut and a writer to watch in the future. Highly recommended.

With thanks to NetGalley and especially to Vintage for the much appreciated arc in return for an honest review.

[Daniel Shindler · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jacqueline Crooks has created a novel that blends the printed word with the cadence and rhythms of Dub Reggae music. Set in the late seventies and early eighties, the novel moves from the Jamaican community in London to Bristol and finally to Jamaica. It chronicles the emotional and political awakening of a second generation child rooted in the Jamaican diaspora.

The narrative focuses on the evolution of Yamaye, a Jamaican-British youngster in her twenties who lives on a deteriorating housing estate in West London. Her mother, a midwife, died in Guyana while on a work mission when Yamaye was a child. She shares an apartment with her emotionally distant father and trudges along in the marginalized routine of the working poor. Her only respite comes on the weekends when she can immerse herself in the swirl and haze of music and ganja. While she parties with her girlfriends underground in the aptly named “Crypt,” Yamaye glimpses the beginnings of a metaphysical and physical journey. The pulsating rhythms of her subterranean world anesthetize her from her daily drudgery and simultaneously energize her to probe and discover her inner voice.

Her journey of discovery is fraught with danger. In order to emerge from her underground cocoon, Yamaye has to summon an understanding of the spiritual underpinnings of her beloved music. This knowledge will help her cope with the challenges confronting her in the world above ground. Her daily existence is inhibited by the surveillance of “ Babylon,” a symbol of British authority, encompassing racial discrimination and economic disparity.

When Yamaye meets Jamaican born carpenter Moose, a new spiritual and emotional path arises before her. However, the omnipresent realities of Babylon tragically derail her journey on this path and propel her on a destructive sojourn in Bristol. She eventually is able to unshackle herself and gravitate towards Jamaica, embarking on a quest for connection to her roots and a greater sense of self definition.

These strands fuse as Yamaye moves from her underground world in England to the open above ground cleansing she seeks in the Caribbean. Her odyssey is constantly accompanied by the strains of the Dub music that gives voice to a disenfranchised group while also shimmering as a guidepost for a more evolved sense of self.

The novel is inflected with accessible and lyrical patois that creates an immediate sense of time and place.The reader is able to feel an emotional connection as Yamaye wrestles with the psychic cost of balancing the need to assimilate to a host society while maintaining a connection to her spiritual heritage. The tones and pulsating beats that emphasize this quest for personal development and political awareness linger long after the novel’s conclusion.4.5 stars.

[BookOfCinz · Rating 3 out of 5]

A book that is centered on music, heritage and love…

Set in the 70s in London we meet Yamaye who is from Jamaican heritage. She goes out partying with her friends on a weekend to an underground club called The Crypt. They get to whine, and grind and meet other people, but also The Crypt is a way for them to let go of all things that holds them down and escape for a bit. During a night at The Crypt Yamaye meets Moose, a furniture maker from Jamaica and they fall madly and deeply in love. For them, their relationship is an escape, a safe space, a place for them to feel whole.

Unfortunately, they don’t get to live out their romance because of police brutality that sends Yamaye spiraling. Everything changes, Yamaye is heartbroken, she wants to help find justice in anyway. Added to that she must now come face to face with her history, her mother dying at a young age, her father not being entirely present, never really knowing where home is. Yamaye finds comfort in the wrong places and people and ends up paying the consequences.

I wanted to love this one so much, I was engrossed at the beginning! I felt that the book started very strong, it the music elements that I loved. It was explored so beautifully. I think Yamaye’s character development was very much on point and I liked her journey. The middle of the book DRAGGED and was too chaotic I wish that was edited down. Too much was going on. The ending of the book I loved, her being back in Jamaica was top tier.

Honestly, I think my heart just broke for the character who died and I ended up not wanting any part of the book after. Their romance was so tender.

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

Yamaye is a young, British-Jamaican woman living in Norwood who finds her true self raving at underground dub reggae clubs at the dawn of the Thatcher era. Alongside her two best friends Asase, also Caribbean, and Rumer, an Irish Traveller, she skanks the night away, practicing her own rapping at home. Dub music threads its way through her entire life, but it isn't the only refrain; she's also haunted by her muma's singing, and images of women who jumped from slave ships during an earlier era, floating down through the water. Fire Rush, Jacqueline Crooks' debut novel, is driven by its incredible set-pieces. The first chapter was originally excerpted separately by Granta and it's easy to see why: it's an amazing piece of writing. But Crooks returns to this intensity of voice again and again throughout the novel, when Yamaye joins an ANL (Anti-Nazi League) march, when she and Asase are attacked by the river, and when Yamaye finally gets to perform her own dub riddims in Bristol. It dramatises what Paul Gilroy says about reggae in his classic There Ain't No Black In The Union Jack (1987), showing how crucial it is to black diasporic culture and how it works as an art form: as Gilroy writes, 'Both soul and reggae consciously reconstruct and celebrate their own histories through complex series of answer records in which different artists criticise and comment on each other’s work.’

Fire Rush was sixteen years in the making, and I think this is the source of both its great power and its slight disjointedness. The first chapter stands slightly apart from the rest of the book, and you can almost see how much it's been reworked and rethought. Most of the novel has such energy, but it's in the linking sections that its pace falters slightly, although never for long. Interestingly, it's also in these sections that the patois recedes, as if Crooks has temporarily lost track of Yamaye's voice. But she always roars back again. I loved the way Crooks traces the links Yamaye makes in her mind, showing how closely she is still tied to Jamaica, a country she has never visited, and how she understands her experience as continuous rather than as dislocated, because it's visible and audible all around her in Britain.

This is a second-generation immigrant experience that offers something different from the stories we more often hear from younger British writers of colour, but it's also so well-written, tying Yamaye's wordless emotions into the stories and music that scaffold her life. 'I switch off the light and go to the balcony [of her dad's flat in Norwood]. I look out beyond the tower blocks at the wastelands and the brickfields where hidden trenches and defensive walls were dug up along with the graves of ancient people, weighed down with lead weights and gold. You can't keep the past down, I say to myself.' Arriving in Bristol: 'We drive past old warehouses at the front of the Floating Harbour... I imagine the ships that sailed from this harbour; sailing to Africa, taking its people to the Caribbean; the women sitting on deck, rubbing salt into their sores, singing air and fire alchemy. I smell the ocean in the distance, salty, bitter. Muma's voice: Let me carry you across the sea.'

4.5 stars. I received a free proof copy of this novel from the publisher for review.

[Robert · Rating 5 out of 5]

The first thing you will notice about Fire Rush is the language – Partly Jamaican patois, part English , part musical terms, this prose is distinctive and stands out. I’ll write a bit more about it later.

Generally I do like it when a strong writing style is coupled with a relatively easy plot and Fire Rush has that too. Three women from different backgrounds dance their lives away in reggae clubs. After continual harassment from guys, the narrator Yamaye finds Moose and they become a couple. Tragedy strikes when Moose is arrested and killed in prison – the story moves on to Yamaye coming to terms with Moose’s murder and discovering herself through music, notably a stint in her homeland, Jamaica. Part coming of age, part thriller(ish) , part political commentary. There quite a few plot turns to keep the reader interested.

It’s the language though, that drew me into Fire Rush. The words pulsate, they ebb and flow, sometimes they rip through the page like a deep bass sound, other times the patois got choppy and staccato, we all know that music is a form of language and Fire Rush’s prose mimics reggae rhythms perfectly.

Some novels manage to capture youth and vigour. Fire Rush does that excellently. Although I have read three of this year’s Women’s Prize Longlist, I can say that this one is the firecracker that will make people turn their heads.

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

Excellent debut about music, raving, love, racism, freedom and especially about a young black woman trying to find herself in the late 70s/early 80s in London, Bristol and Jamaica. It took me some time to get used to the narrative voice, but once I did, I was hooked.
Thank you Jonathan Cape and Netgally for the ARC.

[Alex · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

Good writing, interesting themes, great ending, but maybe tries to do too much.

[charlie medusa · Rating 3 out of 5]

c'était à la fois vraiment chouette et parcouru de plein de jolies fulgurances (ce moment où l'héroïne considère un homme et se dit "il est chouette" au fond puis se rappelle que, en fait, pas vraiment, il ne fait que lui rappeler quelqu'un d'autre, et où il est dit que cet homme "n'est que la version instrumentale" de l'autre... ça c'est vraiment des très jolies choses, très douces et très bienvenues dans l'univers du livre - qui parle, well, de musique, rapport à l'instrument, rapport à l'instrumental -, et je suis très heureuse de les emporter avec moi), et en même temps bien trop long et bien trop dilué à mon sens pour aller au bon de son potentiel émotionnel et dramatique. la relation avec Moose au départ est rushée en quelques dizaines de pages à peine, ce qui est d'autant plus dommage que le sort de Moose nous est spoilé sur la 4e de couverture tant en VO qu'en VF, et qu'on est donc un peu en mode standby durant toutes les 100 premières pages en mode bon ceci est donc le prélude attendons le dur de l'histoire sauf que le reste de l'histoire c'est plus... les conséquences de ce qui se passe page 100, et c'est très réaliste dans le sens où il ne se passe finalement que peu de choses concrètes et que c'est avant tout bcp de maturation émotionnelle, et c'est ce qui se passe quand on perd quelqu'un, mais pour un livre que j'imaginais plus choral, avec une ambition de fresque ou de miroir d'une époque, c'était un peu déceptif - pas décevant, déceptif, dans le sens où ce n'était pas ce que j'avais attendu, et que c'est en partie ma faute et pas celle du livre ! un geste artistique très cohérent et très abouti dans l'atmosphère, les idées et les thèmes qu'il convoque, mais dont la dramaturgie à proprement parler aurait pu être reséquencée et rééquilibrée pour que le livre frappe vraiment du plus fort qu'il l'aurait pu

aussi une réflexion perso : j'ai trouvé ça dommage que les deux traductrices soient blanches ? ça n'empêche en rien qu'elles aient pu faire du super taf (je ne me prononce pas là-dessus ce n'est pas vrmt ma place), mais je me dis, ça aurait été chouette de confier ce texte-là en particulier à une personne qui a connu tout ça intimement

[Rebecca · Rating 3 out of 5]

There's a lot of energy and individuality to this debut novel, more than enough to justify its place on the Women's Prize shortlist. I have limited patience with patois (short story length would be okay) and no interest in the dub reggae scene in London in the late 1970s, so started skimming at the one-third point. The themes of police brutality and harsh sentencing give this a timely connection to the Black Lives Matter movement, but I thought the killing in question occurred too early in the novel. I did appreciate how Yamaye believes that music can connect the living and the dead.

[Melanie Caldicott · Rating 4 out of 5]

Such a distinctive narrative style takes this book about freedom, discovery of self and finding your roots to another level. I loved the rhythm to this book and the extended metaphors describing Jamaica and its people's heart, enslavement and assimilation. A beautiful debut with a striking protagonist. One of the best Women's Prize long list reads for me.
This honest review is given with thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for this book.

[Brittany (whatbritreads) · Rating 4 out of 5]

*Thank you to the publisher for sending me an advanced copy of this to review!*

I’ve had this book on my physical TBR for a good while, and I kept meaning to pick it up but I just got so sidetracked. When I realised it had been shortlisted for this years Women’s Prize, I knew that was my sign to finally bite the bullet and read it. And I am so glad I did, I sat down and read this in a couple of hours and wow what a journey.

As is my usual these days I dipped straight into this blind and was wholly unprepared for the emotional turmoil this book contained. The cover and title are so bold and bright and beautiful I was expecting a fun, upbeat, tongue in cheek kind of novel and while some aspects could fit into that description, I couldn’t have been more wrong. Read this book if you want a beautiful and heartbreaking historical literary account of love, loss, and life.

This was very beautifully written and if there’s one thing I noticed instantly that Crooks has a real beautiful talent for, it’s setting an atmosphere. Diving into this book honestly feels so electric, and it’s so easy to immerse yourself into the vibes of every scene because it is all set up so vividly you can feel the bass of the music through the pages almost. The characters are also very well developed and fleshed out, I really enjoyed exploring the complexities of their personalities, and I found the different relationship dynamics added a great dimension to the story. I think the pacing was spot on and it had enough going on within the storyline and small ‘plot twists’ to keep you on the edge of your seat the entire time.

My main complaint for this book is that the driving force for the rest of the book, the main plot point that really alters our main character's journey and the rest of her life, happens very soon into the book. I don’t really feel like we got to see much of Yamaye and Moose together and really feel their connection brewing all that much before something happens. We do get some great chemistry and really tender moments between them that set a great foundation for their relationship, but it feels so cut short that spending the rest of the novel pining for something we as readers didn’t get a massive chance to fall in love with didn’t quite land for me. I can understand the emotion behind it of course and it was still a beautiful exploration of grieving something so intense, but I wish we got to feel more of that intensity on page to begin with for a bigger emotional score.

Now that I’ve had a taste, I definitely need to check out as much as I can on the shortlist this year. If this is in the mix I know there have to be some other really strong contenders because this one was such a powerful way to begin.

[Aoife Cassidy McM · Rating 4 out of 5]

Set in 1970s/1980s London and Jamaica, this debut novel is a fiery story of love, loss, dub/reggae, Black lives, police brutality, heritage, grief, spirituality and letting go.

Yamaye is a young woman raised by her father following her mother’s disappearance when she was a girl. She parties hard with her friends in an underground dub reggae club called the Crypt, where she seeks oblivion in the beats and the darkness. She meets and makes a strong connection with Moose, but when life takes a devastating turn, Yamaye turns to music and the inner voice of her mother to get her through.

This is a coming of age tale but not as you know it. It’s dark, violent, brooding, fragmented. It’s hard to understand in parts but it didn’t seem to matter - there’s a pacey, rhythmic, hypnotic quality to the writing.

The book is written almost entirely in Jamaican Patois, which I thought I’d find difficult, but actually I found it mesmerising. The words have a staccato rhythm, and in my head, a bass drum thumping in the background for a lot of the scenes, particularly the dance scenes in the Crypt and some of the thrilling scenes towards the end. I’m sure I missed some of the meaning here and there, but I just allowed the rhythm to carry me through.

It’s definitely a book that won’t be for everyone but I really liked it. 3.5/5 ⭐️

*Many thanks to the author, the publisher @vintagebooks and @netgalley for the arc. Fire Rush was published on 2 March. As always, this is an honest review.*

[Siân Collins · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not for me. Way too overblown, (overly described and more adjectives than you can shake a stick at), and decidedly grim. The men in this tale are universally vile or dead - so, the only good man is a dead one? In this book yes.
The community in which this book is set is completely alien to me, but there's nothing here to make me want to investigate further.

[Ellen-Arwen Tristram · Rating 4 out of 5]

I believe this is Jacqueline Crooks' first novel length publication and I'm so excited by her as a writer! This doesn't come out until next March, but definitely but this on your to-read list because it's a fantastic book!


We start in late 1970s London (mainly around Norwood) by meeting Yamaye, Asase and Rumer who are definitely party girls, big time. Yamaye (the MC) and Asase are of Jamaican background, whereas Rumer is Irish. She always had a big question mark over her for me - she never really fit into their friendship group and I wanted to know how they had met! Anyway, it isn't Rumer's story; it's Yamaye's.

Yamaye starts seeing a guy called Moose. She can't keep her happiness to herself for long and her friends work out she's in a relationship - more: she's in love. Life seems so sweet - she can forget about her father Irving, her Muma's ghost seems benevolent, and they all live for nights in The Crypt. Maybe she'll even try singing; after all, Moose likes her voice.

Tragedy strikes and Yamaye's world is turned on its head, losing Moose, Asase and Rumer within a very short time. Wounded and needy, she moves to Bristol, but controlling people surrounding her. She can't escape the regression to her childhood self, as her father appears to materialise in other people. She is living in a 'Safe House' which is anything but safe, and it is here she attempts to locate some connections to her roots, to Jamaica, to free herself from the torment of everyday living.

This was a really fantastic book with powerful themes and resonant language. It may take you a while to get the 'riddim' of the Jamaican patois, but I didn't find it too long. (I looked up some words out of interest, but you could get 90% of it from context). The patois adds a real element to the book; it feels vibrant and almost like poetry at times. Crooks has represented the rhythm of music - mostly dub reggae, but also traditional music - through her words and it is mesmerically effective. You really feel like you are there jivin with the girls, the beat pulsin ya body. I was truly transported.

This isn't a book for the faint-hearted; it is really full of grief and heartache. Crooks has said it is loosely based on her life, and I ache to think of someone living this life. Not only racism, but police brutality and injustice, being stalked, confinement, organised crime, rape, self-harm and murder are among the themes. They are all dealt with very sensitively, but do start reading this book aware of the challenges you will read about.

However, it is certainly worth it: to see the world of late 1970s into the 80s, the vibe that was going on, Yamaye's growth as a character, the beauty and darkness of others' souls, to explore Afrofuturism, and to be taken on a real emotional rollercoaster. Use of recurring images, and other forms of text (such as rapping/singing) really take this book to the next level.

Thanks to NetGalley and Vintage for the arc of this book and thank you to Jacqueline Crooks for such an exciting new voice in fiction!

I found this awesome playlist I had to share, because you'll want to be groovin to summat after reading this! https://www.penguin.co.uk/articles/20...
Curated by the author!

[Andrew Wesley · Rating 4 out of 5]

4* probably. Not sure whether I liked it that much. Everything seemed to have to have a smell to it of some description. And not sure whether I’d be that keen on her MC-ing. Good cover though…

And there’s a playlist on Spotify 🕺🏾

[Jyotsna · Rating 3 out of 5]

Rating: 3 stars
Net Promoter Score: 6 (Detractor)

Honestly, this book did not affect me at all.

I think I have developed a bias towards Jamaican fiction after disliking A Brief History of 7 Killings. Maybe it is the Rastafari aspect or maybe it is how I feel reading the book.

I felt like standing behind a glass panel while this crazy story went on, on the other side.

Also what baffles is the disassociation of Yamaye, the MC, and how she gets embroiled in the Bristol under mafia?! Like, this book feels unbelievable especially when it comes to how Yamaye reacts to the entire situation. I would be having a freak out session if I was in her place.

Do not recommend unless you relate to the culture.

[Vicki · Rating 2 out of 5]

I absolutely hate that I didn't love this book because I felt like the writing was done beautifully and that the author conveyed the setting and conditions of Jamaicans in London during "Babylon" quite well, especially for her debut novel. But I have to be honest and say that for me it was just okay. I think that part of the reason is that the dialect threw me off at times and that is an issue with me, not everyone. There were times I just didn't know what was being said even though I tried. So it was slow going for me and I really struggled with it.

Yamaye is the MC whose best friends are Asase and Rumer, and the 3 girls like to spend their weekends at clubs dancing and listening the the "riddem" of the music. But Yamaye meets a man named Moose and they fall in love. That didn't stop Asase from trying to move in on him since she seems to be a flirt and the trouble-maker of the group.

That I did like is all of the topics that Crooks wrote about. possibly too much in one book: sex, drugs, reggae, riots, Babylon, police brutality and corruption, racism, murder, family, abuse, grief, and so much more.

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

And we burn ourselves, night into day, on dub riddims in the Crypt, praying Babylon won't take our world away.

Fire Rush is now the fourth book I've completed in my quest to read the Women's Prize for Fiction shortlist for this year. I loved it, though maybe a touch less than Trespasses by Louise Kennedy.

True seh, this is when I come alive. Blown out of my thoughts by high-frequency vibe. Outside the music, I feel wrong in this yah time.

This is a novel full of fresh, rhythmic prose. Yamaye narrates her own story as she navigates parties in her hometown with her best friends, Asase and Rumer. They use dance and music as a means of escape and Crooks does an incredible job of showcasing how music is a vital part of Yamaye's life.

Yamaye meets and, eventually, falls in love with a man named Moose.

I feel to tell him that I love him bad, but I'm afraid of songs with upbeat words and downbeat music and up to now that's all I've known of love.

Tragedy strikes on multiple accounts, upending Yamaye's world. She takes part in activism against police brutality and the justice system - and how it works against people of color - is showcased. Eventually, Yamaye meets and ends up with a man named Monassa. She spends a year in his circle before she makes her way to Jamaica to search for the truth about her mother and to connect with her roots.

The prose here is excellent - I didn't understand all the slang but I understood enough, Crooks did a great job of balancing the vernacular with "standard" English. Yamaye's story is quite sweeping and takes the reader on quite the journey. I felt that the pacing was a touch off during the second and third parts, and the ending felt a bit abrupt. I'm not opposed to an open-ending but I felt like this was a little bit of an awkward spot to leave the story.

While not quite my favorite of the shortlist, I would be thrilled if this book won - it's fresh and original, not to mention an excellent read. Definitely deserving of it's place on the shortlist.

My 2023 Women's Prize for Fiction Shortlist Rankings (so far)
1.) Trespasses by Louise Kennedy
2.) Fire Rush by Jacqueline Crooks
3.) Black Butterflies by Priscilla Morris
4.) The Marriage Portrait by Maggie O'Farrell

Content warnings for rape, sexual assault, violence, police brutality, racism, and more.

Rating: 4 / 5

[molly rae · Rating 3 out of 5]

Woah. Such an interesting read. The integration of Jamaican patois was a challenge for sure -- but then, it also adds to the authentic feel of the book and prose. Also, I did some research about different vernaculars/dialects while reading, because I found it frustrating that this patois was so close to English, yet had so many terms that I was unfamiliar with. To call it broken English is incorrect, though -- just because it's derived from English doesn't mean it's some lesser system of speech. Anyway, really interesting. I had no idea this whole country had this distinct language, since it's not their official one or anything and it's uncommon to write it. ANYWAY. Sidebar.
Because it was a debut, I feel like I forgave a lot -- the over-done descriptions, the jumping around, the lackluster ending, etc. I did learn a lot about Jamaican diaspora in the UK, and the importance of skanking/dub music within their culture. The first part was the best part, and then it went a bit downhill/all over the place after that. Would recommend, though. C U :)

[nina.reads.books · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fire Rush by Jaqueline Crooks is my fourteenth read off the 2023 Women’s Prize longlist and while this was an extremely distinctive and richly written novel it wasn’t one that fully resonated with me.

Set in the late seventies and early eighties the book focusses on Yamaye who lives in Norwood just outside of London. She lives for her weekends spending them dancing in underground clubs with her friends. They are all a part of the emerging underground dub scene and most have roots in the Caribbean.

The book is in three parts moving from Norwood to Bristol and then to Jamaica. The story is continuously told by Yamaye as her life in Norwood is upended when her boyfriend Moose is killed in police custody and then rioting and protests break out and her life is endangered. A snap decision has her moving to Bristol with a male friend who turns out to not be who she expected him to be with disastrous consequences. Finally Jamaica is shown in all its beauty as Yamaye visits Moose’s grandmother and searches for traces of her own mother.

There are multiple themes tackled in Fire Rush including police brutality, black oppression, the misogyny endemic within the underground music scene, the issues that the Jamaican diaspora experiences in relation to slavery and colonialism and much, much more. A key thread though is the music, the actual lyrics within the chapters and the musicality deeply embedded within the language used. This is both in the actual wording that often relates to musical terms and in the widespread use of patois for the characters dialogue.

I think it was the predominant use of music and patois that had me struggling a bit with Fire Rush. While both these things gave the story such a strong voice, I couldn’t easily connect with the musical references and found the dialogue hard to understand at times. I could feel how beautifully the language washed over me but it ultimately just wasn’t for me.

I can see how this would be well received by many readers and it is blurbed by Bernadine Evaristo and Caleb Azumah Nelson – authors which I love – so I’m sure that others will love it more than I did.

[Aoife · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars

[Sevim Tezel Aydın · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Set your ghosts free if you want liberty…”

Brilliant; a moving story about identity, belonging, loss and political awakening…

The story begins among the Jamaican diasporic community in the late 1970s and 80s, early Thatcher years, first in London and its environs, later continues in Bristol and concludes in Jamaica.

Yamaye's life revolves around the club, where she listens to music and dances with her friends. However, when she meets Moose and falls in love, her life turns unexpectedly. The sudden and violent death of Moose becomes a catalyst for Yamaye's dramatic journey of self-awareness and transformation…

Jacqueline Crooks presents a compelling story. It isn't easy to read the challenging history of black British people and the social and economic inequalities of those years. Racism, violence, crime, and fear walk hand in hand in her sentences. Her narrative is dark, intense and poetic, yet she also weaves in threads of hope. And the role of music and dance in the story adds a vibrant touch…

[Carmijn Gerritsen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Just brilliant. Probably one of the best books I read in a while. This novel follows a young black women through the dub scene, protest movements and her exploration of generational history. Crooks is able to capture the Black British experience beautifully, by evidently building on personal or academic research. The book was subsequently able to grip me the entire way, all throughout its three phases set near London, Bristol and Jamaica.

[Sai · Rating 4 out of 5]

loved it but the final third fell off kinda

[Lulufrances · Rating 4 out of 5]

What a special one Fire Fush is - one that will linger on in my mind, for sure.
I‘m truly amazed at how different this book is, the wonderful writing and world. I know embarrassingly little about Jamaica and the music styles and culture shown in this book, London in the 70s and 80s from this unique point of view; I keep listening to 70s dub on spotify and google people skanking, I browsed a website on Jamaican Patois and learned a lot that brought me closer to the dialogue in Fire Rush.
In the last part, the novel is set in Jamaica and I could get lost in the beautiful and dreamlike descriptions Crooks used to bring the setting close, very vivid and very very good, all around.

Something that also struck me: her writing was so full of rhythm, it was genuinely musical and that is something I have very rarely - if ever - encountered.

[Jan · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have a longstanding practice of choosing audiobook format for books written in patois or vernacular English. That approach pays big dividends for Jacqueline Crooks’ Fire Rush, a debut novel that follows a young British-Jamaican woman from London’s dub reggae music clubs where she DJs to racial justice protests to a cave in Jamaica where the story reaches its climax. Narrator Leonie Elliot turns Crooks’ fine writing into a gripping and immersive experience. A deserving finalist for the 2023 Women’s Prize by a writer I’ll definitely watch out for.