They thought they knew everything about us. The kind of women we were.
It was a place for women. A remote farm tucked away in the Kent Downs. A safe space.
When Iris - newly single and living at home with her mother - meets the mysterious and beguiling Hazel, who lives in a women's commune, she finds herself drawn into the possibility of a new start away from the world of men who have only let her down. Here, at Breach House, the women can be loud and dirty, live and eat abundantly, all while under the leadership of their gargantuan matriarch, Blythe.
But even among the women, there are power struggles, cruelty and transgressions that threaten their precarious way of life. When a group of men arrives on the farm, the commune's existence is thrown into question, hurtling Iris and the other women towards an act of devastating violence.
Fierce and unapologetic, Spoilt Creatures is an intoxicating debut about transgression, sisterhood and the seductive nature of obsession. It pulls back the skin of patriarchal violence and examines the female rage that lurks beneath.
Amy Twigg is a writer, born and raised in Kent. Her debut novel Spoilt Creatures won the BPA Pitch Prize and was longlisted for the Mslexia Novel Competition. It was acquired by Tinder Press as one of their lead fiction titles, due to be published in June 2024.
In 2024 she was chosen as one of the Observer's Best New Novelists.
This sounded like everything I’ve ever wanted in a book - a female cult forming based on female rage, an idyllic farm away from men and civilization? Women living like feral, carnal beings, true to their wildest self? The concept was perfect.
The reality, however, was not. Can you fault a book for that, for not turning out the way you wanted it to turn out? Probably not. Yet I cannot help but do so.
For the first three quarters of this book I wanted more. More intensity, more emotion, more happening. So much was missing. The motivation. The atmosphere. Connection to the characters. Why did they all follow Blythe blindly? What was her pull? How did it feel to spend the days there? Why do the other characters keep being referred to as ‘the women’, as if Iris (MC) was no part of them? What conversations did they have? It all felt so bland.
I wanted feasts, rituals, naked dancing, dream-like surreal moments. I wanted to learn what it would be a like, living free as a woman, away from society, away from men, free to be whatever they were. Free in their bodies, their skin. What did it all MEAN? The female rage trope was told so bluntly, so directly, without any of the feeling beneath it.
And then in the last quarter, it all went too fast, too much. I’m a little sad but hope this is the first of more books like this. Give me feral female cults in a perpetual summer, please!!
I loved this book. A hierarchical all female cult with manipulation, unease and insanity. It draws you in, it allows you to relate and think you understand the relationships and dynamics only to realise as it develops that you have just as little control and understanding as the protagonist Iris. This was absolutely captivating and I throughly enjoyed the slightly manic, slightly repulsive and yet engaging storyline throughout.
Thank you to Hachette for sending me an advance copy in exchange for an honest review.
Alas, this proved to be another disappointment from the Observer’s 10 best new novelists feature. The setup was promising: in 2008, Iris reeling from her break-up from Nathan and still grieving her father’s death in a car accident, goes to live at Breach House after a chance meeting with Hazel, one of the women’s commune’s residents. “Breach House was its own ecosystem, removed from the malfunctioning world of indecision and patriarchy.” Any attempts to mix with the outside world go awry, and the women gain a reputation as strange and difficult. I never got a handle on the secondary characters, who fill stock roles (the megalomaniac leader, the reckless one, the disgruntled one), and it all goes predictably homoerotic and then Lord of the Flies. The dual-timeline structure with Iris’s reflections from 10 years later adds little. An example of the commune plot done poorly, with shallow conclusions rather than deeper truths at play.
In Amy Twigg’s debut, Iris, a rudderless and almost unbelievably naive 32-year-old, finds her way to Breach House, a community of women. Here she falls under the spell of leader Blythe and into an infatuation with fellow member Hazel. But is this a place of refuge or a dangerous cult?
Twigg structures the book very effectively, especially in its first half. We occasionally flip forward to a later point (2018) in which Breach House has become notorious, even infamous. In itself, this device is old hat, but I felt its use here was a masterclass: I was, undeniably, compelled. Similarly, occasional flashbacks to Iris’s previous life with boring boyfriend Nathan are used sparingly to great effect. Like Hazel, we’re eager to know more about Iris, and like Iris, we’re eager to know more about Blythe; Twigg gives us just enough information to stay interested, yet not entirely satiated.
There’s something slightly out of date about the depiction of ‘female rage’ here, and for a while I found it kind of embarrassing to read about, so childish in its simplicity; this is most obvious in the scene where the women literally throw rocks at a car carrying two men. I think maybe that’s the point, though? Although she’s in her thirties, Iris is childlike; her life up to the point of joining Breach House has been sheltered. When they’re together, the group regress, until it all devolves into Lord of the Flies-style chaos more appropriate for teenagers than adult women. Of course the motives are shallow – it’s because the motives are shallow that the climactic scene is so horrific.
As far-fetched as the story occasionally gets, I also found its explanations for how the group stays under the radar, and Iris anonymous as a member, clever and believable – often a sticking point for modern novels dealing with isolated cult-like communities (Rebecca Wait’s The Followers springs to mind).
I was drawn to Spoilt Creatures in the first place because of the premise’s vague similarity to Catherine Chanter’s The Well, and indeed, there are echoes of Chanter’s novel in Iris’s reverence for Hazel and the eventual fate of the commune. I’d also compare it to The First Book of Calamity Leek by Paula Lichtarowicz and Supper Club by Lara Williams.
I don’t fully know how to put my thoughts into a coherent review but I found this really interesting. I’ve not read much about cults before but I found myself wanting to keep going and learn more, seeing how messed up this “safe space” actually was but also seeing the shared rage and female companionship the women could give eachother. The whole thing was so interesting and I would’ve liked more depth and detail in some of it. Disturbing in places but such a compelling read.
Thank you to Hatchette for sending me an advance copy in exchange for an honest review
conceptually interesting to read about being a cult & the fact that perfectly ordinary people can easily get swept up in all that. not sure the book had enough oomph beyond that
*With thanks to the publisher for sending me a copy of this!*
This was a weird and wonderful little book. If you’re into culty vibes and unusual women doing unusual things, this will probably be right up your alley.
I really liked the writing of this one and that’s what initially compelled me. I started reading this on a flight, and found myself unable to put it down for several hours. It was really atmospheric and strange from the beginning, and moved along initially quite quickly which grabbed my attention. I think throughout it was addicting and fast paced as our main character ends up spirallinng with this group of women who are perhaps not what she thought they were, and it’s a really unsettling but morbidly entertaining reading experience. I’ve had such a hit or miss experience with ‘weird girl’ lit, but this one hit the spot for me.
The book wastes no time and we meet the rest of the characters pretty early on, but I wish we had more time before with Iris to really get a wider picture of who she was as a person and what her world looked like originally. There wasn't much build up, and it meant Iris’s character felt quite one dimensional and limited. I also think once it starts, she seems to be completely detached from her family and the rest of the world and there were almost no consequences of that? It just felt like she went away, and everything in her old life conveniently disappeared and was wrapped up nicely in a little bow, ready to be picked up again whenever the author felt like it.
The plot itself was very unnerving and that underlying sense of something being amiss set a really strong tone for it. I do think the characters could have built on that, and at times there were so many names and faces it felt a bit unfocused and like it was trying to do too much. It was hard to connect with anyone in particular because it was a little scattered. The relationships we did see I liked, and I think the dynamics and power play here was explored well. I wish the characters were a little more fleshed out so their presence would have felt a weightier. Some characters are introduced and then abandoned halfway through, for reasons that seem to be easily brushed off and unexplained.
By the ending, I was expecting something more to have happened to our characters. From the mysterious build up that only gives us breadcrumbs to try and piece together the big reveal, I was anticipating my jaw to drop. I wanted something more gory, more outrageous, more squeamish but that isn’t what we get. I guess in that sense it felt more realistic? But I truly wished it would have gone all the way, and a little bit more insane just to put the metaphorical cherry on top. It did wrap up nicely though.
Probably very bizarre to have your main criticism of a book be ‘it wasn’t insane enough’, but I still enjoyed it. I read it really quickly, and couldn’t look away.
My month of mediocre/disapppointing reading (not including Exile by Aimee Walsh) shows no sign of abating. I had high hopes for Spoilt Creatures, it having been named by the Observer as a best debut novel of 2024. Despite some lovely writing, the way the story unfolded was rather predictable and the characters a little colourless.
In the wake of a break up from her partner Nathan, Iris is lacking purpose and direction in life. She’s back living with her mother and working a dead end job when she meets Hazel, a charismatic woman living in an all-female commune in the Kent countryside, headed up by its domineering founder Blythe.
The commune is supposedly a haven for women to escape abusive relationships and toxic families, where the women can live safely and sustainably off the fat of the land. What becomes apparent after Iris moves in, is that there is coercive control at play and a calculating unwillingness by Blythe to let any part of the outside world interference in the women’s lives.
This is a cult/commune type novel that reminded me of other novels I’ve read in recent years. It wasn’t as good as Amy & Lan by Sadie Jones, but it was a lot better than The Silence Project by Carole Hailey, both of which featured similar themes.
A decent, if a bit plodding at times, read at times that just didn’t quite live up to its billing. If you like books about cults this may appeal. 3/5⭐️
Isn't it ironic I didn't realise something was wrong with the commune until I was deep inside the book and (bad) things were about to go down. I had the realisation around the same moment Iris did. Call me naïve, but I'd rather say Amy Twigg is just a brilliant writer who knows how to draw you in and hold you close until it's too late to turn back.
The writing style made everything feel so real. It's as if I felt my skin actually burn from the sunny days Iris spent working the allotment, my muscles straining, my hands bleeding, my back sweating. The way the rain soaked my skin, my socks soggy, and my stomach aching. It was uncomfortable, yet I couldn't stop reading as if I was looking at a car crash that I couldn't drag myself away from.
manchmal würde ich auch gerne mit all meinen girls fern weg von der zivilisation und männern auf einem alten bauernhof leben (wie idyllisch ist bitte das cover?!), aber für blutige hände und den ganzen tag ohne sonnencreme draußen arbeiten bin ich einfach nicht outdoorsy genug.
ich mochte das buch sehr gerne, fand die aufteilung der handlung in jahreszeiten mega, hab die erdrückende hitze und scham, wut und verzweiflung mitgefühlt. eigentlich hatte das buch alles, was ich wollte, aber irgendwas hat trotzdem gefehlt.
Iris a trentadue anni, dopo vari fallimenti lavorativi e dopo la fine della relazione con Nathan, si chiede che cosa vuole davvero dalla vita. Costretta a tornare a vivere nella casa di famiglia che cade a pezzi, con una madre concentrata solo a portare avanti relazioni con uomini inadeguati, Iris è sopraffatta da un’infelicità costante.
Tutto cambia però quando un’amica le parla di Breach House, una fattoria immersa nei boschi dove un gruppo di donne vive lavorando la terra e rifiutando ogni contatto con il mondo esterno, soprattutto con gli uomini.
Le donne a Breach House faticano, sudano, si sporcano le mani e vivono libere e selvagge sotto un equilibrio apparentemente solido e governato da una capo gruppo, Blythe. Lo scopo di Blythe è far leva sulla scarsa autostima e sulla vulnerabilità delle donne per richiamarle a sé, nel suo ecosistema nutrito da terra e segreti.
Iris vedrà in Breach House l’occasione per il cambiamento, un luogo dove scappare e rifugiarsi per non affrontare il passato. A Breach House, Iris incontrerà Hazel ,e con lei instaurerà un rapporto di sorellanza intimo e sfuggente ma che presto sfocerà nell’abuso e nella manipolazione psicologica.
L’equilibrio idilliaco di Breach House inizierà a vacillare quando, complice il costante desiderio di trasgressione da parte di alcune donne, il mondo estero riuscirà a penetrare le fitte fronde del bosco che circonda e protegge la comune, e a quel punto tutto crollerà.
Durante la lettura si è sopraffatti da un senso costante di oppressione e sottomissione, alimentata dall’ambientazione boschiva, con le sue luci e ombre e con i suoi suoni e odori. Una suspence continua che tiene accesa la narrazione e porta il lettore ad attendere qualcosa che forse però arriva troppo tardi.
La scrittura della Twigg, poetica e tagliente, ci conduce dentro i lati oscuri della psiche femminile, in un inferno travestito da paradiso, un’utopia fragile all’interno della quale la libertà ha un duro prezzo.
utterly raw and feral. Lord of the flies and Dionysian cults merge with a headline of “FEMALE RAGE”. it’s going to be something i think about for a long time
"Like we're a different species altogether, something dangerous. We earn less, we're given less, we are raped and murdered on a daily basis. I know all about it. So do you. We grow up being told what to wear and how to act, and even if we do all those things we're still raped and murdered. But here, here we can control our circumstances, live withot taht kind of judgment. I know it's not perfect. We fight and argue and treat each other like shit. But it's ours. It's worth preserving."
4🌟 woah - this is a brilliant debut about longing for safety, searching for meaning and the idea of female rage. Not perfect, the character depth and depiction of charismatic leader fell flat for me, but the pacing, character voices and vivid storytelling left me at the edge of my seat wanting to understand more about Breech House, its occupants and what it was all leading to. A few loose ends that weren’t tied up at the end is why I couldn’t go higher than a 4. But this was so good and something different to add to this list. Would recommend.
a womyn’s land turned cult is a premise i never thought i would see but i loved this so much more than i thought i would!! female centric thrillers are slowly becoming my guilty pleasure. i felt like i was getting sucked into this cult too…
strangely this was the perfect holiday book, the feminine anger bringing a nice energy to a seaside getaway. i recommend reading this whilst drinking endlessly, it really helped to make me feel as if i could have been one of these women, indoctrinated into a cult by my own will. like another review on here said, twigg's writing is wonderful in the way that it pulls you in, absorbs you entirely until it's too late and suddenly there is no escape and your control has been forfeited. like iris, i too saw nothing wrong with this group of women, their way of life, i felt as if i would thrive there and embrace the manic wildness of their commune; until suddenly everything changed and i realised i was as trapped as those within the pages. overall i adored this and the way that i couldn't tell where each page was going, the way that i too was snowballing through the events without any way to stop them alongside the characters.
Wow! This book was written beautifully! Although I didn’t feel particularly gripped from the start, I stayed for the writing. It was a bit of a slow start but I really enjoyed the pacing of the ending and thought it tied in brilliantly with the themes of the actual book. A brutal exploration of feminine rawness. I was hoping for a bit more of a female rage theme, but I was definitely not disappointed nonetheless. A perfect weird, sticky, gross summer read for my men hating girls.
I received an early uncorrected proof edition of this book, and my review is based on this.
This book begins with a woman obsessed with the past, a woman looking back on an event from her life that has taken on a life of its own as an infamous 'cult' crime, as she begins the process of taking the reader back through time in an attempt to piece together how she came to be a part of it, and more importantly, how she lost part of herself to it. The narrator's sorrow and sense of loss pervades through the opening pages, as she attempts to process the fragmented pieces of her past, while the notoriety of what she had once been part of still continues to haunt her. The premise is both promising and daunting, as she contemplates the present, with the shadows of what she was once part of hovering over her.
The protagonist is Iris, who finds herself living back at home with her mother following the ending of her relationship, before she meets Hazel, a woman living what seems to be an idyllic life in rural Kent in a commune of women, supporting each other, and sheltering each other from the trials of everyday life. As Iris works to gain entrance to this community, we begin to see how her yearning to be an accepted part of the group starts to impact upon her life. Iris, once admitted to the commune, begins to isolate herself from her previous life in order to meet the expectations demanded not only of the women who have taken her in, but more importantly, of the charismatic woman leading them, Blythe. As Blythe challenges Iris on her level of commitment to the commune, we start to see how the little tentacles of manipulation and coercion start to wind their way around the women.
I found it really interesting that the house in which the women live was named Breach House. Instantly, it brings to mind the Dickensian Bleak House with the similarity of the name, and just as Dickens often used the state of a house to signpost the status of the people living inside it, Twigg does the same with Breach House, the earthy, visceral descriptions of the living conditions of the house speaking to the way in which the women are living. There were times where I experienced a real sense of revulsion to the way of life inside the house. Initially, the commune seems to meet Iris's needs, but with the very name of the house suggesting the breaking of something - a breach - the reader knows it is just a question of time before something tips off balance. This seems to come when men are admitted to the commune.
The book raises so many interesting questions particularly about the role of the patriarchy, but for me, one of the most interesting aspects explored in the book is the way in which it challenges what it is that attracts someone to a cult, how they can subvert so many of their own values in order to make themselves a part of something that promises a sense of purpose and community, cutting themselves off from their past and even their own friends and family. The psychological exploration of self-worth is one of the strongest aspects of this book.
Readers have a lot to look forward to when this book is published. Seething with moody resentment, laced with anger, and fired by a feminist, perhaps even misandrist, challenge to everyday life, it will be one of the debuts to watch out for in 2024.
I cannot believe I fell for the gripping cover + obsession plot promise again, I need to stop.
Spoilt Creatures was trite, banked on its "subversiveness" and ultimately had nothing new to say about women and friendship, about loneliness or obsession. The same old complaints about true crime podcasts, the same useless and passive protagonist. The whole time while I was reading it, the stakes just felt very low as well as uninspired. Not even the ending packed a punch.
I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes so many times, the clichés of feminism, of cults feels so overdone at this point that it is almost a new blueprint. Add some desperate women and a charming leader, a remote location, subtle homoeroticism (but not too much), extreme viewpoints and a passive observer main character and voilà: a prize winning novel that is hailed as groundbreaking. If this is the first of its kind that you will read, you may not be disappointed. If you've already read others of the same caliber, I'm afraid this will seem too repetitive to you too.
Even Hazel and Blythe, these supposedly mesmerising and magnetic characters, are nothing but bland. Why is Iris obsessed with them? We never get to see.
I loved the cover photo and picked this up because I’m interested in cults. In some ways this was an easy read but also an unsatisfying one. Most of this book felt like summary — more an idea or pitch than a fully realised novel. I don’t understand how anyone could call it feral. It felt to me quite tame and a missed opportunity to see what really could go down between women living remotely and off the grid. We get a nod to this in the bit on Beltane but again this is summarised and its inclusion a bit shallow? Nothing really happens but hide and seek, eating lemon drizzle cake, fig rolls, drinking lots of cups of tea. The women felt infantilised. It draws upon quite a few tropes about cults but didn’t feel real for me. The very few cult members described never came alive. We are told Blythe and the cult etc are so important but it’s never clear why. There were a few monologues which echoed the infamously on-the-nose monologue about women’s rights in Barbie — unwarranted in a film which showed this so well through comedy. Generally I felt that structurally this book was well crafted but lacked atmosphere and fire.
I absolutely HATED it at first, to the point that I felt I would DNF if I still felt this way after 100 pages. This was mainly due to the fact that there are zero likeable characters in this book. ZERO. You'll probably hate them all, and the stupid decisions that they make too.
Yet... ;-) The story at some point really lured me in, and I found that I just had to know how the story would develop. And one of the characters smartens up a bit, which helps. Once I got to that point, I almost finished it in one go. The writing is quick and not too embellished, which works for the kind of story Twigg wants to convey.
In the end, once I finished I knew this would be one of those stories that'll linger in my mind and that I will think about every once in a while. It gave me "Bunny" by Mona Awad vibes in a good way - meaning I can't properly explain why I ended up liking it, and I'd still fully understand if others absolutely hate it.
spoilt creatures read more like a rushed summary of events rather than a story. i struggled to connect with any of the characters as i don't think the author allows you to get to know them really, so any shocking moments throughout the narrative fell flat. disappointing as this is such a cool concept and could've been brilliant.