It happens suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere. Sometimes it starts with a racing heart, sometimes it can be a prickle of sweat down your back or the moisture being stripped from your tongue. Your vision blurs, your breath becomes erratic, like your body is trying to suffocate itself…in a second you’re in a panic, untethered from your existence and watching your body from above - clawing, scraping to get back to yourself. Panic attacks are debilitating, they’re paralysing, they’re fucking awful…and they can happen to anyone.
With her latest, Naomi Booth explores the dualities of existence, the reconciliations of our past and present, and that all-too-familiar spiral of grief born out of nostalgia.
For Grace, her life is a tangle, born in the rusted graveyard of industrial Yorkshire to a police officer father who worked on an infamous case and a mother who battled her own mental health. As a rebellious teen, she chases adrenaline, pushing limits, her luck and delaying the consequences of her messiness.
As an adult, she looks like she has her shit together, but when she becomes unexpectedly pregnant, her world shifts, and as she brings new life into the world, the accumulated horrors of a lifetime of misadventure come flooding, falling, scalding, collapsing in on her.
Raw Content is an achingly personal book that lifts the veil on the horrors of motherhood. It draws us into the expanded heart of someone who no longer exists just for themselves. It’s a thread of violent paranoid yearning, a desperate cry for help, an unwavering unconditional love held together by stark beauty and grit of Northern England.
I could go on, and on, and on, and on, and probably a little bit more about why this book is such a necessary read. Whether you’re a parent or not, you are someone’s child, and reading this book gave me a new perspective on the terrors of giving life and the lengths that our mothers often, but not always, go to in order to protect their hearts - sometimes even from themselves.
I finished this book a couple of weeks ago. It’s taken until now for me to fully collate my thoughts— not because my experience with it was anything less than brilliant but rather these words, as complimentary as they are, still struggle to fully convey the terrifying joy this book captures.
I’d also love to just make a note about the way mental health is approached in this book. I find with a lot of lit-fic that the authors often either overdramatise, fetishise, or embellish often serious mental health issues — but with this, Booth, gives space and these topics are approached with the safety, grace, and respect they deserve.
Thank you to Little Brown Books for the advance copy.