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Love Forms
In the heart-aching new novel from the author of the award-winning Golden Child, a mother searches for the daughter she left behind a lifetime ago.
Trinidad, 1980: Dawn Bishop, aged 16, leaves her home and journeys across the sea to Venezuela. There, she gives birth to a baby girl, and leaves her with nuns to be given up for adoption.
Dawn tries to carry on with her life - a move to England, a marriage, a career, two sons, a divorce - but through it all, she still thinks of the child she had in Venezuela, and of what might have been.
Then, forty years later, a woman from an internet forum gets in touch. She says that she might be Dawn's long-lost daughter, stirring up a complicated mix of could this be the person to give form to all the love and care a mother has left to offer?
Trinidad, 1980: Dawn Bishop, aged 16, leaves her home and journeys across the sea to Venezuela. There, she gives birth to a baby girl, and leaves her with nuns to be given up for adoption.
Dawn tries to carry on with her life - a move to England, a marriage, a career, two sons, a divorce - but through it all, she still thinks of the child she had in Venezuela, and of what might have been.
Then, forty years later, a woman from an internet forum gets in touch. She says that she might be Dawn's long-lost daughter, stirring up a complicated mix of could this be the person to give form to all the love and care a mother has left to offer?
289 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 19, 2025
About the author
Claire Adam
2 books472 followersClaire Adam was born and raised in Trinidad. She lives in London.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 837 reviews
July 29, 2025
i need to create a "book covers i would frame" shelf.
much like my judging it by its cover, i'm sad to say this book lacked depth for me. when i looked up and found myself three-quarters of the way through, i was taken aback — not because very little had happened (in fact very little had, but i'm the type of insane person who prefers books that way) but because i'd felt so little.
this book has a lot of a lot of things: colons. unnecessary explanations like "the name niall is pronounced like nile, the river." winding stories. what it did not have, for me, was emotion it showed instead of telling.
i never settled into this. it never clicked for me. this is definitely my type on paper (please read in love island accent) but it didn't work in execution.
the beginning and the ending, though. those i recommend.
bottom line: a very pretty cover and not much else.
(thanks to the publisher for the e-arc)
much like my judging it by its cover, i'm sad to say this book lacked depth for me. when i looked up and found myself three-quarters of the way through, i was taken aback — not because very little had happened (in fact very little had, but i'm the type of insane person who prefers books that way) but because i'd felt so little.
this book has a lot of a lot of things: colons. unnecessary explanations like "the name niall is pronounced like nile, the river." winding stories. what it did not have, for me, was emotion it showed instead of telling.
i never settled into this. it never clicked for me. this is definitely my type on paper (please read in love island accent) but it didn't work in execution.
the beginning and the ending, though. those i recommend.
bottom line: a very pretty cover and not much else.
(thanks to the publisher for the e-arc)
August 12, 2025
Who paid to have this on the Booker Prize Longlist? Step forward please, I'd like to have a word!
If you are thinking about reading this book, don't. I read it so you don't have to and yes, I will leave a list of other books you should read instead of this one.
In Claire Adam sophomore novel Love Forms we meet 58-year-old Dawn who is living in London after being divorced from her husband of many years. While married they had two sons together, one is living in the US and the other as a Doctor in the UK. While Dawn was growing up in Trinidad and Tobago in the 80s she got pregnant and was sent to Venezuela by her parents to have the baby and give it up for adoption. Forty years later, Dawn is still looking for the baby girl she gave up. She is on all Facebook group hoping for a chance to meet and reconnect. This is secret continues to haunt her, but she hasn't given up looking, much to the displeasure of her family.
The book starts out with us being taken into the mind of Dawn and what she is going through. It kicks off with a strong start and goes downhill 20 pages in. After that we are treated to the ramblings of a 58-year-old woman who left Trinidad and Tobago years ago, but spends an extraordinary amount of time telling us the deep inner workings and history of the country and that of Venezuela. It is one thing for the author to want to situate their character in history, it is another thing for us to be "treated" to pages upon pages of the history of a country that does nothing to move the plot along or help with character building.
It is clear that Claire Adam, Trinbagonian, did not write this book for Trinis or Caribbean reader, even though the book was book set in Trinidad and Tobago, with Trinbagonian characters. You see this when the writer painstakingly spent paragraphs explaining:
1. what a "steups" is
2. what it means when someone says "the spirit take them"
3. what it means when someone says "it is not easy"
Also, in 2025, I am shocked that an author is taking about "good hair". Because... what exactly is "good hair"? What constitutes "bad hair"?
The book itself read like a very bad travel guide for Trinidad and Tobago. Written from the perspective of someone who have not spent a lot of time on the island or left at a very early age. I can't help but wonder, “who was this book written for and why?". Last thing I will say, is that the book felt very unfinished and lacked a strong editor. Every time we got into Dawn's story, we were taken on a historical journey of Venezuela and Trinidad and Tobago.
As someone who supports reading Caribbean, I would say skip this book and read these other books instead. These books will give you a better appreciation for strong writing with a side of a love letter to Trinidad and Tobago:
When We Were Birds by Ayanna Banwo
Pleasantview by Celeste Mohammed
Hungry Ghost by Kevin Hosein
Where There Are Monsters by Breanne Mc Ivor
Ibis by Jusin Haynes
The Lost Love Songs Of Boysie Singh by Ingrid Persaud
Till The Well Runs Dry my Lauren Sharma
These are just a few books off the top of my head that are miles better than this and would give you a stronger appreciation of Trinidad and Tobago as a country, and much much stronger storytelling and plot.
For more book recommendations, follow me @bookofcinz
If you are thinking about reading this book, don't. I read it so you don't have to and yes, I will leave a list of other books you should read instead of this one.
In Claire Adam sophomore novel Love Forms we meet 58-year-old Dawn who is living in London after being divorced from her husband of many years. While married they had two sons together, one is living in the US and the other as a Doctor in the UK. While Dawn was growing up in Trinidad and Tobago in the 80s she got pregnant and was sent to Venezuela by her parents to have the baby and give it up for adoption. Forty years later, Dawn is still looking for the baby girl she gave up. She is on all Facebook group hoping for a chance to meet and reconnect. This is secret continues to haunt her, but she hasn't given up looking, much to the displeasure of her family.
The book starts out with us being taken into the mind of Dawn and what she is going through. It kicks off with a strong start and goes downhill 20 pages in. After that we are treated to the ramblings of a 58-year-old woman who left Trinidad and Tobago years ago, but spends an extraordinary amount of time telling us the deep inner workings and history of the country and that of Venezuela. It is one thing for the author to want to situate their character in history, it is another thing for us to be "treated" to pages upon pages of the history of a country that does nothing to move the plot along or help with character building.
It is clear that Claire Adam, Trinbagonian, did not write this book for Trinis or Caribbean reader, even though the book was book set in Trinidad and Tobago, with Trinbagonian characters. You see this when the writer painstakingly spent paragraphs explaining:
1. what a "steups" is
2. what it means when someone says "the spirit take them"
3. what it means when someone says "it is not easy"
Also, in 2025, I am shocked that an author is taking about "good hair". Because... what exactly is "good hair"? What constitutes "bad hair"?
The book itself read like a very bad travel guide for Trinidad and Tobago. Written from the perspective of someone who have not spent a lot of time on the island or left at a very early age. I can't help but wonder, “who was this book written for and why?". Last thing I will say, is that the book felt very unfinished and lacked a strong editor. Every time we got into Dawn's story, we were taken on a historical journey of Venezuela and Trinidad and Tobago.
As someone who supports reading Caribbean, I would say skip this book and read these other books instead. These books will give you a better appreciation for strong writing with a side of a love letter to Trinidad and Tobago:
When We Were Birds by Ayanna Banwo
Pleasantview by Celeste Mohammed
Hungry Ghost by Kevin Hosein
Where There Are Monsters by Breanne Mc Ivor
Ibis by Jusin Haynes
The Lost Love Songs Of Boysie Singh by Ingrid Persaud
Till The Well Runs Dry my Lauren Sharma
These are just a few books off the top of my head that are miles better than this and would give you a stronger appreciation of Trinidad and Tobago as a country, and much much stronger storytelling and plot.
For more book recommendations, follow me @bookofcinz
August 3, 2025
What is presented as "a Claire Keegan short story expanded by Elizabeth Strout" is actually a powerful short story about giving birth as a teenager transformed into a mediocre novel where everything is overanalyzed and overexplained. I can understand that u can be obsessed about an event in your life, especially as traumatic as it is for our protagonist to give birth to a baby and abandoned it, but her journey to try to reconnect to her lost daughter gets to be just an excuse for other uninteresting themes and stories.
August 6, 2025
2.5 and baffled by the longlisting.
August 3, 2025
I was convinced from the book jacket that I was about to start the story of a woman searching for the daughter she gave up for adoption. It didn’t take me long to realize that Love Forms was about something different and more complex: a woman searching for herself.
Love Forms begins with one of the most spine-tingling openings I’ve read in a long time: a young , white and privileged 16-year-old Trinidad girl named Dawn is whisked away in the dead of night. She boards a boat to take her to Venezuela, to live with nuns (hermanas) until after the birth of her baby girl. Later, traumatized, she returns home, and what occurred is cloaked in silence.
And so Dawn’s life unfolds: her medical school education, her marriage to a fellow doctor in London, her sons, her frequent trips back to Trinidad and Tobago. Love Forms is not a propulsive “will she or won’t she find the baby she gave up”tale; rather, it meanders, and it takes different paths, as Dawn tries to fit together the pieces of who she really is, what she really wants, and what she gave up.
Everything is just a little messy: the family dynamics of her family of origin who truly do love her but inadvertently hurt her. Trinidad itself is like a beautiful ripe fruit – glorious in its beauty but venomous inside as the economic landscape changes and the drug culture takes hold. The story of Trinidad mirrors Dawn's own with its promise of upward mobility and its danger and disquiet.
This is a work of introspection and anyone expecting a fast-paced plot should look elsewhere. The theme is living with absence and coping with an ever-changing presence. As Dawn reckons with her own past choices and as the pieces of her life begin to settle in new patterns, she considers: “Maybe my story wasn’t Dawn, who made a mistake and brought shame to her family. Maybe it’s: Dawn, mortal woman, who took a wrong turn in life and got lost.”
I defy any reader to get to the last page without welling up. There is profundity here, and a constant tribute to the power of recollection and the strength of maternal love.
August 16, 2025
this book has an interesting premise but ends up being incredibly dull, repetitive, pointless, and unsatisfying. i found the writing style simplistic and tedious, the kind that narrates the minor actions of the character (i.e. i walked up to the door, i put the key in the door, i opened the door etc). i know people have said this is because the main character is speaking to her child, but that’s not an excuse for poor writing.
there were some themes that could’ve been dug into, but they weren’t explored in any depth whatsoever, and the book has a strange undertone of conservatism throughout that left a bad taste in my mouth. the only interesting parts were those about the history of trinidad and tabago. i personally don’t think this meets the standard of what a booker prize longlisted title should be.
there was also a part about a character called niall who we are told is irish (you don’t say) and are then told ‘you pronounce his name like the river’……don’t pmo
there were some themes that could’ve been dug into, but they weren’t explored in any depth whatsoever, and the book has a strange undertone of conservatism throughout that left a bad taste in my mouth. the only interesting parts were those about the history of trinidad and tabago. i personally don’t think this meets the standard of what a booker prize longlisted title should be.
there was also a part about a character called niall who we are told is irish (you don’t say) and are then told ‘you pronounce his name like the river’……don’t pmo
September 22, 2025
3.5
Longlisted for the 2025 Booker Award.
Sixteen-year-old Dawn Simpson made a mistake that altered her life. She had a one-night stand with a man she met at the Trinidadian carnival and became pregnant. In upper-class Trinidadian society, pregnancy out of wedlock was considered a disgrace that brought shame not only on Dawn but also on her entire family. As a consequence, under the cover of darkness, Dawn's parents shipped her to a Catholic convent in Venezuela. There she gave birth to her daughter, who the nuns put up for adoption.
The family vowed never to speak of the " incident" again.
In Love Forms, Claire Adam explores the lifelong sense of loss, grief, guilt, and shame Dawn experiences as a consequence of giving up her daughter. The novel, written from Dawn's point of view at age 58, shifts back and forth in time. It chronicles her move to England, marriage, the birth and rearing of two sons, a faltering medical career, and divorce. Interwoven throughout the tale is her longing, regret, and attempts to find her daughter. This search is also an attempt to come to terms with herself and her life.
As an exploration of the trauma of giving up a baby for adoption, the novel is highly successful. However, the story begins to drag midway through. Dawn is the only fully developed character, and the depiction of her marriage lags due to insufficient development in the characters of her husband and sons.
Overall, I liked the book and found the ending moving. I recommend it, although I'm not sure if it is one of the 13 best books of the year written in English.
Longlisted for the 2025 Booker Award.
Sixteen-year-old Dawn Simpson made a mistake that altered her life. She had a one-night stand with a man she met at the Trinidadian carnival and became pregnant. In upper-class Trinidadian society, pregnancy out of wedlock was considered a disgrace that brought shame not only on Dawn but also on her entire family. As a consequence, under the cover of darkness, Dawn's parents shipped her to a Catholic convent in Venezuela. There she gave birth to her daughter, who the nuns put up for adoption.
The family vowed never to speak of the " incident" again.
In Love Forms, Claire Adam explores the lifelong sense of loss, grief, guilt, and shame Dawn experiences as a consequence of giving up her daughter. The novel, written from Dawn's point of view at age 58, shifts back and forth in time. It chronicles her move to England, marriage, the birth and rearing of two sons, a faltering medical career, and divorce. Interwoven throughout the tale is her longing, regret, and attempts to find her daughter. This search is also an attempt to come to terms with herself and her life.
As an exploration of the trauma of giving up a baby for adoption, the novel is highly successful. However, the story begins to drag midway through. Dawn is the only fully developed character, and the depiction of her marriage lags due to insufficient development in the characters of her husband and sons.
Overall, I liked the book and found the ending moving. I recommend it, although I'm not sure if it is one of the 13 best books of the year written in English.
August 7, 2025
Well written but just very conventional in my view, more something for the Women’s Prize than the Booker. A baby gotten and adopted at age 16 haunts the life of a woman
Because it does seem to me now, as I get older, that to remember the past is its own gift: to be able to return to those past moments - the sorrows and joys - and relive them, even the ones that we don’t properly understand.
In general I don’t enjoy historical fiction much, and Love Forms is well written but very conventional. Dawn Bishop, now Wilson and currently living in London is the narrator and looks back at 58 on her life and how central a “mistake” at 16 was. This book reminds me a bit of Nadifa Mohamed’s The Fortune Men, Booker shortlisted in 2021 - accomplished historical fiction but nothing exceptional in my view. Also the whole middleclass spiel of the main character, while her family has a summer house for thirty people, a boat and a private plane feels a bit absurd.
The first chapter, with the 16 year old girl is ferried from Trinidad to Venezuela to give birth to a girl, are haunting. The nuns take the baby and ensure her adoption. The father, a man from Scotland, who could be Nick or Mick, met during carnival.
The family never speaks about the events again: Dawn, girl, the less you know, the better.
Her parents owned Bishop’s Fruit and are mostly white. Dawn moves to London and marries and divorces: We made the best of it. At this stage of life, you’re beginning to realise that it’s the motto you have to live by.
Boom and bust oil cycle with devaluation and coups in the 1980s, and especially the fall of Venezuela, from a rich country to anarchy play a role at the background of the narrative.
Claire Keegan is thanked in the credits as a proof reader, and I see the same craft, even if in Love Forms the narration is less taut and even though I was touched by glimpses of catharsis at the end of the novel, I was not touched as emotionally as in Small Things Like These.
Quotes:
I began to wonder if the loyalty and trust I had felt towards my family might instead have been a sort of gullibility, or a childish innocence.
It’s to easy to hide in England, where everyone can see what’s wrong but nobody dares to tell you.
Because it does seem to me now, as I get older, that to remember the past is its own gift: to be able to return to those past moments - the sorrows and joys - and relive them, even the ones that we don’t properly understand.
In general I don’t enjoy historical fiction much, and Love Forms is well written but very conventional. Dawn Bishop, now Wilson and currently living in London is the narrator and looks back at 58 on her life and how central a “mistake” at 16 was. This book reminds me a bit of Nadifa Mohamed’s The Fortune Men, Booker shortlisted in 2021 - accomplished historical fiction but nothing exceptional in my view. Also the whole middleclass spiel of the main character, while her family has a summer house for thirty people, a boat and a private plane feels a bit absurd.
The first chapter, with the 16 year old girl is ferried from Trinidad to Venezuela to give birth to a girl, are haunting. The nuns take the baby and ensure her adoption. The father, a man from Scotland, who could be Nick or Mick, met during carnival.
The family never speaks about the events again: Dawn, girl, the less you know, the better.
Her parents owned Bishop’s Fruit and are mostly white. Dawn moves to London and marries and divorces: We made the best of it. At this stage of life, you’re beginning to realise that it’s the motto you have to live by.
Boom and bust oil cycle with devaluation and coups in the 1980s, and especially the fall of Venezuela, from a rich country to anarchy play a role at the background of the narrative.
Claire Keegan is thanked in the credits as a proof reader, and I see the same craft, even if in Love Forms the narration is less taut and even though I was touched by glimpses of catharsis at the end of the novel, I was not touched as emotionally as in Small Things Like These.
Quotes:
I began to wonder if the loyalty and trust I had felt towards my family might instead have been a sort of gullibility, or a childish innocence.
It’s to easy to hide in England, where everyone can see what’s wrong but nobody dares to tell you.
March 4, 2025
At 16, Dawn Bishop, white and rich, is secretly taken undercover of darkness, from her home in Trinidad to Venezuela. She’s to temporarily live with nuns until she gives birth, with the child being given up for adoption. She returns to Trinidad with a certain amount of bitterness and resumes her life. Now she’s Dawn Wilson and 58 years old, she’s been married, divorced and lives in England where she’s been for most of her life. Much of that time things are good and she has two grown-up sons although she’s had to downgrade her house and her London postcode following the divorce, her life is still okay. However, her mind is on the child she gives birth to all those years ago and she begins a search to see if she can find her. This is not just a search for an offspring, Dawn is searching for her sense of self to try to fill the void the baby leaves in her life and soul.
The start of the novel is really intriguing, an air of mystery as Dawn goes on the journey and what follows is a moving story as she describes her sadness, her confliction and other emotions really well and so I do feel empathy for her for what she has lost. She conveys her complicated life well, her complex relations with her sons, her mother and her brothers.
However, I think the storytelling of Dawn‘s search loses its way as it gets mixed up and infused with reflections on Trinidad and Venezuela, which whilst interesting, takes your eye off the search. I enjoy the Trinidad of her growing up years and then looking back at the age of 58 on how it has changed. There’s a lot on the political, economic and cultural situation of both Trinidad and Venezuela and the issues both places have today. There’s also her everyday life in her new home in Brockley (London) which compared to the rest is a bit mundane. Some of this causes me to lose some enthusiasm for the book which is a shame as the premise is a very good one. I suppose as much as anything it’s a love letter to Trinidad and the island is definitely on my bucket list.
The ending is a beautiful one, I feel what Dawn feels and it does choke me up and recollect.
With thanks to NetGalley and especially to Faber and Faber for the much appreciated Epub in return for an honest review.
The start of the novel is really intriguing, an air of mystery as Dawn goes on the journey and what follows is a moving story as she describes her sadness, her confliction and other emotions really well and so I do feel empathy for her for what she has lost. She conveys her complicated life well, her complex relations with her sons, her mother and her brothers.
However, I think the storytelling of Dawn‘s search loses its way as it gets mixed up and infused with reflections on Trinidad and Venezuela, which whilst interesting, takes your eye off the search. I enjoy the Trinidad of her growing up years and then looking back at the age of 58 on how it has changed. There’s a lot on the political, economic and cultural situation of both Trinidad and Venezuela and the issues both places have today. There’s also her everyday life in her new home in Brockley (London) which compared to the rest is a bit mundane. Some of this causes me to lose some enthusiasm for the book which is a shame as the premise is a very good one. I suppose as much as anything it’s a love letter to Trinidad and the island is definitely on my bucket list.
The ending is a beautiful one, I feel what Dawn feels and it does choke me up and recollect.
With thanks to NetGalley and especially to Faber and Faber for the much appreciated Epub in return for an honest review.
October 4, 2025
"Maybe my story wasn't: Dawn, who made a mistake and brought shame to her family. Maybe it's: Dawn, mortal woman, who took a wrong turn in life and got lost."
At sixteen, Dawn Bishop - born and raised in Trinidad and the daughter of a prominent local family -becomes pregnant and is sent to Venezuela to give up her baby for adoption. More than forty years later, divorced and living in London with grown sons, Dawn is still haunted by that choice. Searching for her unknown daughter online, she hopes for a second chance: to trace what's been unsaid, to understand what was done, and to confront what remains from nearly a lifetime ago.
A quiet and quietly moving meditation on love, loss, family, and making peace with one's past while facing the future, "Love Forms" is also love letter to author Claire Adam's home country of Trinidad. Her prose is vivid and often very intimate, particularly in scenes of Dawn's childhood and the emotionally fraught moments in Venezuela. The geography - past and present Trinidad, Venezuela, and London - vividly mirrors Dawn's sometimes dislocating internal journey.
Poignant and moving in its unassumingness, "Love Forms" explores the many shapes love takes, what it demands, and what survives. It's a reminder that what's lost may never fully be found, but that the search can itself be redemptive.
I listened to the audiobook, which was expertly produced and beautifully narrated by Melanie La Barrie, who truly became Dawn’s voice.
At sixteen, Dawn Bishop - born and raised in Trinidad and the daughter of a prominent local family -becomes pregnant and is sent to Venezuela to give up her baby for adoption. More than forty years later, divorced and living in London with grown sons, Dawn is still haunted by that choice. Searching for her unknown daughter online, she hopes for a second chance: to trace what's been unsaid, to understand what was done, and to confront what remains from nearly a lifetime ago.
A quiet and quietly moving meditation on love, loss, family, and making peace with one's past while facing the future, "Love Forms" is also love letter to author Claire Adam's home country of Trinidad. Her prose is vivid and often very intimate, particularly in scenes of Dawn's childhood and the emotionally fraught moments in Venezuela. The geography - past and present Trinidad, Venezuela, and London - vividly mirrors Dawn's sometimes dislocating internal journey.
Poignant and moving in its unassumingness, "Love Forms" explores the many shapes love takes, what it demands, and what survives. It's a reminder that what's lost may never fully be found, but that the search can itself be redemptive.
I listened to the audiobook, which was expertly produced and beautifully narrated by Melanie La Barrie, who truly became Dawn’s voice.
September 6, 2025
2.5, rounded down. Thoroughly unremarkable.
June 13, 2025
3.5
Love Forms tells an all-too-common tale of a woman, Dawn Bishop, who finds herself "ketch" (pregnant) after a one night stand with a tourist to Trinidad's Carnival. As the daughter of a rich family Dawn is taken to a convent where she gives birth and then gives up her daughter.
Years later, now a divorcee with two grown sons and living in London, Dawn is still searching for the baby girl who she gave up for adoption.
The story follows Dawn's journey and her efforts to be reunited with the child despite not remembering much from that time and encountering resistance from her parents and brothers.
I confess to being a little disappointed with this novel. It seems to sort of meander along in a circular motion with Dawn being thwarted at every turn. However it's well written and the characters are sympathetic. I'm not sure what I wanted from the book but something with more impact perhaps. And, at times, it felt a little more like a travel guide for Trinidad and Venezuela.
Thankyou to Netgalley and Faber & Faber for the advance review copy.
Love Forms tells an all-too-common tale of a woman, Dawn Bishop, who finds herself "ketch" (pregnant) after a one night stand with a tourist to Trinidad's Carnival. As the daughter of a rich family Dawn is taken to a convent where she gives birth and then gives up her daughter.
Years later, now a divorcee with two grown sons and living in London, Dawn is still searching for the baby girl who she gave up for adoption.
The story follows Dawn's journey and her efforts to be reunited with the child despite not remembering much from that time and encountering resistance from her parents and brothers.
I confess to being a little disappointed with this novel. It seems to sort of meander along in a circular motion with Dawn being thwarted at every turn. However it's well written and the characters are sympathetic. I'm not sure what I wanted from the book but something with more impact perhaps. And, at times, it felt a little more like a travel guide for Trinidad and Venezuela.
Thankyou to Netgalley and Faber & Faber for the advance review copy.
August 4, 2025
Longlisted for the Booker Prize 2025
My second book from this year's list is an enjoyable read, telling the story of a white Trinidadian woman who gave up a baby for adoption in a Venezuelan convent at 16, and her later attempts to find the child and the impact on her marriage, children and life in London. I'd be a little surprised if this makes the shortlist, as its virtues are quiet ones.
My second book from this year's list is an enjoyable read, telling the story of a white Trinidadian woman who gave up a baby for adoption in a Venezuelan convent at 16, and her later attempts to find the child and the impact on her marriage, children and life in London. I'd be a little surprised if this makes the shortlist, as its virtues are quiet ones.
August 19, 2025
Well written, very evocative of place, but somehow a relatively pedestrian reading experience for this reader. Love Forms is a reflective examination of motherhood, and of the ripple effect that roads taken, and not taken, have in our lives. The premise was there for me, the characterisation had moments of real strength. In the end I felt like this story didn’t really go anywhere in particular. I’m not the kind of reader that needs strong plot direction, but this story did need some to avoid feeling cyclical. Okay but not great for me.
August 29, 2025
Longlisted for the 2025 Booker Prize.
While I have a feeling that this book will not make the shortlist, I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.
When Dawn becomes pregnant at sixteen her parents send her away to have the baby with some Nuns in Venezuela. In the eighties, in Trinidad, an unwed pregnant sixteen-year-old brings shame down upon herself and family. It’s a harrowing six-mile trip in a boat from Trinidad. Dawn actually believes she is going to be killed, thrown overboard. Her baby is then adopted out and Dawn forms a “pact” with her parents never to broach the subject of the baby again.
Forty years later Dawn has lived, in her own eyes, an uneventful, disappointing life. She studied to become a doctor, but marriage and two sons put an end to a noble pursuit. She then divorced. Dawn has lived with a hole in her life. Repeated attempts to find her baby have failed. Even now in the present with the aid of modern technology her latest attempt fails again. I think it would be fair to say that the loss of her baby has affected her whole life. Her relationship with her parents, her husband. Whatever is going on in her life at any given moment, the desire to find her child is always there gnawing away at her heart. She lives with regret, even though the choice of keeping the baby was never even an option for her.
Adam’s explores themes about motherhood and loss. Family relationships. I believe it is impossible for an adult male to feel the emotions of a mother who has lost her daughter, the longing to find her and the anguish of the failed attempts. That is why I enjoy books such as this. Literature such as this may be the only medium that can come close to helping a male reader to feel what the mother is going through. Great story, great characters, and a brilliant ending.
While I have a feeling that this book will not make the shortlist, I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.
When Dawn becomes pregnant at sixteen her parents send her away to have the baby with some Nuns in Venezuela. In the eighties, in Trinidad, an unwed pregnant sixteen-year-old brings shame down upon herself and family. It’s a harrowing six-mile trip in a boat from Trinidad. Dawn actually believes she is going to be killed, thrown overboard. Her baby is then adopted out and Dawn forms a “pact” with her parents never to broach the subject of the baby again.
Forty years later Dawn has lived, in her own eyes, an uneventful, disappointing life. She studied to become a doctor, but marriage and two sons put an end to a noble pursuit. She then divorced. Dawn has lived with a hole in her life. Repeated attempts to find her baby have failed. Even now in the present with the aid of modern technology her latest attempt fails again. I think it would be fair to say that the loss of her baby has affected her whole life. Her relationship with her parents, her husband. Whatever is going on in her life at any given moment, the desire to find her child is always there gnawing away at her heart. She lives with regret, even though the choice of keeping the baby was never even an option for her.
Adam’s explores themes about motherhood and loss. Family relationships. I believe it is impossible for an adult male to feel the emotions of a mother who has lost her daughter, the longing to find her and the anguish of the failed attempts. That is why I enjoy books such as this. Literature such as this may be the only medium that can come close to helping a male reader to feel what the mother is going through. Great story, great characters, and a brilliant ending.
August 15, 2025
3.5, rounded down.
#9 of the 2025 Booker longlist.
On paper, this doesn't seem to be the type of story I would particularly be drawn to - not having children nor being at all 'parental' (other than to my 3 cats!), a story of a mother's lifelong pain over giving up a child for adoption when she was 16 would not seem to resonate much.
Nor do I much cotton to stories set in the Caribbean, never having been there nor having much interest in that part of the globe. That said, Adam's book DID slowly draw me in, and I must admit the central mystery of whether Dawn would ever find her lost child I found quite involving, with a somewhat surprising and touching ending.
I felt there were a few missteps - even though a fairly short book, it felt sometimes a bit 'padded', with extraneous material that didn't add much color or necessary information to the plot. While Dawn herself is a complex character, and SOME of the family were equally well drawn - I had trouble keeping some of the minor secondary characters straight.
And I must say I'd have been happier to see Ripeness, which circles around some of the same issues of motherhood and adoption make the longlist, rather than this. However - credit where it's due - based on my enjoyment of this, I'd be interested in delving into Adam's first novel at some point - something I can't say for most of the OTHER Booker nominees this year.
#9 of the 2025 Booker longlist.
On paper, this doesn't seem to be the type of story I would particularly be drawn to - not having children nor being at all 'parental' (other than to my 3 cats!), a story of a mother's lifelong pain over giving up a child for adoption when she was 16 would not seem to resonate much.
Nor do I much cotton to stories set in the Caribbean, never having been there nor having much interest in that part of the globe. That said, Adam's book DID slowly draw me in, and I must admit the central mystery of whether Dawn would ever find her lost child I found quite involving, with a somewhat surprising and touching ending.
I felt there were a few missteps - even though a fairly short book, it felt sometimes a bit 'padded', with extraneous material that didn't add much color or necessary information to the plot. While Dawn herself is a complex character, and SOME of the family were equally well drawn - I had trouble keeping some of the minor secondary characters straight.
And I must say I'd have been happier to see Ripeness, which circles around some of the same issues of motherhood and adoption make the longlist, rather than this. However - credit where it's due - based on my enjoyment of this, I'd be interested in delving into Adam's first novel at some point - something I can't say for most of the OTHER Booker nominees this year.
September 14, 2025
I loved this so much. Love Forms tells the story of a Trinidadian woman named Dawn, who became pregnant at sixteen and gave the child up for adoption. The novel unfolds through her reflections on the years that followed and how that experience shaped her life.
I love the confessional, honest clarity of Dawn’s voice. Her recollections are imperfect; her memories contain gaps, and she admits when she cannot remember details or when the emotions surrounding an event are all that remain. I found Adam's style very captivating and wonderful to read because it reveals how memory truly works and how imprecise it can be.
I was moved by Dawn’s reflections on her decision to give up her child and how, in the years after marrying and having two more children, she began to see that choice as a mistake. What follows is the seemingly impossible task of trying to locate the daughter she gave away. The novel beautifully explores Dawn’s layered emotions: her shame, the trauma of giving up a child, and the complicated business of navigating the resulting family trauma, the silent accumulation of unspoken hurts and disappointments.
The book also examines the sacrifices women are often expected to make without any gratitude. Dawn bluntly voices her feelings about the impossible balancing act of motherhood and career, of tending to everyone else while neglecting her own needs and desires.
Most impressively, Adam captures the particular kind of love between mothers and their children. I will never be a mother, but this novel made me feel how fierce and protective that love is, how it can coexist with guilt, grief, and sacrifice, and yet still remain more powerful than anything else. Dawn is incredibly wise; she does not receive the closure she longs for, but she quietly accepts what life has given her, which is sometimes the only way to move forward.
“It does seem to me now, as I get older, that to remember the past is its own gift: to be able to return to those past moments—the sorrows and joys—and relive them, even the ones that we don’t properly understand.”
I love the confessional, honest clarity of Dawn’s voice. Her recollections are imperfect; her memories contain gaps, and she admits when she cannot remember details or when the emotions surrounding an event are all that remain. I found Adam's style very captivating and wonderful to read because it reveals how memory truly works and how imprecise it can be.
I was moved by Dawn’s reflections on her decision to give up her child and how, in the years after marrying and having two more children, she began to see that choice as a mistake. What follows is the seemingly impossible task of trying to locate the daughter she gave away. The novel beautifully explores Dawn’s layered emotions: her shame, the trauma of giving up a child, and the complicated business of navigating the resulting family trauma, the silent accumulation of unspoken hurts and disappointments.
The book also examines the sacrifices women are often expected to make without any gratitude. Dawn bluntly voices her feelings about the impossible balancing act of motherhood and career, of tending to everyone else while neglecting her own needs and desires.
Most impressively, Adam captures the particular kind of love between mothers and their children. I will never be a mother, but this novel made me feel how fierce and protective that love is, how it can coexist with guilt, grief, and sacrifice, and yet still remain more powerful than anything else. Dawn is incredibly wise; she does not receive the closure she longs for, but she quietly accepts what life has given her, which is sometimes the only way to move forward.
“It does seem to me now, as I get older, that to remember the past is its own gift: to be able to return to those past moments—the sorrows and joys—and relive them, even the ones that we don’t properly understand.”
July 1, 2025
Genre: Literary Family Drama/Caribbean/Adoption
Publisher: Random House
Pub. Date: Jul 29, 2025
“Love Forms” is a well-written, moving, and, at times, heartbreaking novel about a woman who searches for the daughter she gave up for adoption at the age of 16. The story explores the many ‘forms’ of love a mother can feel for a child she doesn’t know. Dawn Bishop is the youngest child of a well-known Trinidadian fruit juice dynasty. After a brief encounter at a carnival, she becomes pregnant. We also meet Dawn at the age of 58. Adam demonstrates remarkable literary ability in her handling of time and memory, seamlessly weaving together Dawn’s younger and older experiences. The novel explores themes of family, identity, and international adoption, particularly from the Caribbean during the 1980s.
When her parents learn of her pregnancy, they send her on a secretive, harrowing nighttime journey to Venezuela. Because she is blindfolded and hooded, she is terrified she will not make it off the boat alive. Her destination is a house run by nuns for girls in her predicament. Although the nuns are decent, she feels further isolated because they are black. Dawn is white. She speaks Trinidadian English. They speak Spanish. She spends four months with the nuns, who deliver her daughter. Then she is immediately returned to Trinidad, under the same conditions, where she continues her education as if nothing had occurred. Her family will never talk about that period of her life again. Adam shows how Dawn’s trauma and shame continue at home since her relationship with her older brothers is different now. They hardly look her in the eye or talk to her.
Forty-two years later, she has been married, divorced, has two adult sons, and has spent most of her adult life in England. The author shines in describing how Dawn’s memories are triggered by seemingly mundane moments. Holding her gold necklace makes her wonder if her daughter would like it. Dawn’s questions have only grown more pressing with time. She wonders what region of Venezuela she was taken to. Why can she not identify the nuns? Despite years of emotionally draining research, letter writing, internet forums, and DNA testing, she is still no closer to the truth.
Despite Dawn’s abusive and traumatic teenage years, Adam manages to portray Dawn’s life gently. Unlike Joyce Carol Oates’ latest book, “Mr. Fox,” also about an abused teenage girl, this book does not contain stomach-churning scenes. No disrespect to JCO, she is one of my favorite authors. This book is not as melodramatic as it could have been in the hands of a lesser author. Adam has a poetic style that captivates. While there is a lot of drama in this story, it can be slow-moving and character-driven, which may leave some wanting more action. I found it enjoyable. Though not classified as historical fiction, the book illustrates how Trinidadian life is interwoven with Venezuelan history through shared geography, cultural exchange, and migration patterns, enriching the story immensely. Adam won the prestigious Desmond Elliott Prize for her debut novel, "Golden Child," and her follow-up proves this was no fluke. “Love Forms" is a moving portrait of a woman haunted by the child she gave up. I recommend it.
I received this Advance Review Copy (ARC) novel from the publisher at no cost in exchange for an honest review.
Find all my book reviews at:
https://www.goodreads.com/
https://bookreviewer1955.wordpress.com/
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/
https://www.amazon.com/
https://www.facebook.com/martie.neesr...
Publisher: Random House
Pub. Date: Jul 29, 2025
“Love Forms” is a well-written, moving, and, at times, heartbreaking novel about a woman who searches for the daughter she gave up for adoption at the age of 16. The story explores the many ‘forms’ of love a mother can feel for a child she doesn’t know. Dawn Bishop is the youngest child of a well-known Trinidadian fruit juice dynasty. After a brief encounter at a carnival, she becomes pregnant. We also meet Dawn at the age of 58. Adam demonstrates remarkable literary ability in her handling of time and memory, seamlessly weaving together Dawn’s younger and older experiences. The novel explores themes of family, identity, and international adoption, particularly from the Caribbean during the 1980s.
When her parents learn of her pregnancy, they send her on a secretive, harrowing nighttime journey to Venezuela. Because she is blindfolded and hooded, she is terrified she will not make it off the boat alive. Her destination is a house run by nuns for girls in her predicament. Although the nuns are decent, she feels further isolated because they are black. Dawn is white. She speaks Trinidadian English. They speak Spanish. She spends four months with the nuns, who deliver her daughter. Then she is immediately returned to Trinidad, under the same conditions, where she continues her education as if nothing had occurred. Her family will never talk about that period of her life again. Adam shows how Dawn’s trauma and shame continue at home since her relationship with her older brothers is different now. They hardly look her in the eye or talk to her.
Forty-two years later, she has been married, divorced, has two adult sons, and has spent most of her adult life in England. The author shines in describing how Dawn’s memories are triggered by seemingly mundane moments. Holding her gold necklace makes her wonder if her daughter would like it. Dawn’s questions have only grown more pressing with time. She wonders what region of Venezuela she was taken to. Why can she not identify the nuns? Despite years of emotionally draining research, letter writing, internet forums, and DNA testing, she is still no closer to the truth.
Despite Dawn’s abusive and traumatic teenage years, Adam manages to portray Dawn’s life gently. Unlike Joyce Carol Oates’ latest book, “Mr. Fox,” also about an abused teenage girl, this book does not contain stomach-churning scenes. No disrespect to JCO, she is one of my favorite authors. This book is not as melodramatic as it could have been in the hands of a lesser author. Adam has a poetic style that captivates. While there is a lot of drama in this story, it can be slow-moving and character-driven, which may leave some wanting more action. I found it enjoyable. Though not classified as historical fiction, the book illustrates how Trinidadian life is interwoven with Venezuelan history through shared geography, cultural exchange, and migration patterns, enriching the story immensely. Adam won the prestigious Desmond Elliott Prize for her debut novel, "Golden Child," and her follow-up proves this was no fluke. “Love Forms" is a moving portrait of a woman haunted by the child she gave up. I recommend it.
I received this Advance Review Copy (ARC) novel from the publisher at no cost in exchange for an honest review.
Find all my book reviews at:
https://www.goodreads.com/
https://bookreviewer1955.wordpress.com/
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/
https://www.amazon.com/
https://www.facebook.com/martie.neesr...
August 18, 2025
I first heard this recommended on the Irish Times Women's podcast summer reads of 2025 and shortly after that it was longlisted for the Booker Prize.
A 16 year old living in relative privilege in Trinidad, has one crazy night out at carnival and months later is clandestinely bundled into various transportations and sent across the water to a hideaway in neighbouring Venezuela, has a baby and then returns alone.
Years later, 58 years old, living alone in London, unable to pick up her career in medicine, two grown sons, her family still in Trinidad, she starts to search, with very little knowledge, except that memory of the trip in the dark.
The novel explores a certain way of living in Trinidad, a daughter made to feel shame, an event unspoken for a decade, a self-exile imposed. Not until she begins her search and becomes familiar with the experiences of others like her, of children like the one she abandoned, does she begin to be able to understand what it is she has been feeling, a life long loss, momentarily offered the promise of being filled, as each potential contact (a woman her daughter's age searching for their mother) raises that hope.
This was a compelling read that could create interesting discussions, of deeply flawed characters, of terribly inhumane behaviours, and the life long wounding adults commit, who care more for status and reputation than the damage heaped on women and children for being in the too common situation of being pregnant, or birthed, unwanted. This kind of story comes in so many varieties and though this one is unique, again it is driven by the shame and blame of young women.
One of the most hopeful parts of this novel for me, was the knowledge that this character/this author, read the forums and the stories of the many, many humans, born into this 'unwanted' paradigm who write of their shared, common experience of how that separation affects a child, their life, their future relationships, which helps dispel the myth, that it's a good or right thing to do, to sever a baby from its mother.
A 16 year old living in relative privilege in Trinidad, has one crazy night out at carnival and months later is clandestinely bundled into various transportations and sent across the water to a hideaway in neighbouring Venezuela, has a baby and then returns alone.
Years later, 58 years old, living alone in London, unable to pick up her career in medicine, two grown sons, her family still in Trinidad, she starts to search, with very little knowledge, except that memory of the trip in the dark.
The novel explores a certain way of living in Trinidad, a daughter made to feel shame, an event unspoken for a decade, a self-exile imposed. Not until she begins her search and becomes familiar with the experiences of others like her, of children like the one she abandoned, does she begin to be able to understand what it is she has been feeling, a life long loss, momentarily offered the promise of being filled, as each potential contact (a woman her daughter's age searching for their mother) raises that hope.
This was a compelling read that could create interesting discussions, of deeply flawed characters, of terribly inhumane behaviours, and the life long wounding adults commit, who care more for status and reputation than the damage heaped on women and children for being in the too common situation of being pregnant, or birthed, unwanted. This kind of story comes in so many varieties and though this one is unique, again it is driven by the shame and blame of young women.
One of the most hopeful parts of this novel for me, was the knowledge that this character/this author, read the forums and the stories of the many, many humans, born into this 'unwanted' paradigm who write of their shared, common experience of how that separation affects a child, their life, their future relationships, which helps dispel the myth, that it's a good or right thing to do, to sever a baby from its mother.
September 1, 2025
3.5 stars
August 8, 2025
i really did not like this book at all. from a prose standpoint it was good, but everything else leaves such a sour taste in my mouth. putting aside the personal gripes i have, the construction of the story is just not up to standard for a booker prize nominee (meandering, repetitive, and goes nowhere, with the protagonist having learned nothing). personal gripes included, i sensed an underlying conservatism that informs the way so much of this book is framed/phrased that really turned me off. race, class, and gender are constantly brought up but never meaningfully explored and this is done is a way that is impossible to ignore, especially considering how little else there is going on for me to not fixate on that. additionally, it rubbed me the wrong way how the narrator does not even briefly touch on the idea that it's possible for a woman/girl to not want her baby. she pities the other girls in her circumstance because she assumes that like her, they are all upset that the babies they are forced to give birth to are being taken away. in her eyes, they were all wronged because "babies belong with their mothers." if that's your truth that's fine and there's nothing wrong with that, but there are lots of other truths out there— the one most glaringly obvious yet completely absent from the book being that maybe some girls don't want to be mothers and don't want to give birth. that thought never even crosses her mind, which is odd; it's 2025 so the omission feels pointed. couple this with some questionable remarks the narrator makes about race relations in her country (Trinidad and Tobago) and frequent observations that are neither personable nor profound, and what you're left with is a booker prize nominee apparently
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 21, 2025
Even if I wasn't reading this book through the lens of "oh wow, a Booker longlist selection", I wouldn't have liked it.
Love Forms is the story of a 58 year old, separated mother of two adult sons as she looks back on her life. Her one big regret is that she (somewhat unwillingly) gave up an infant daughter for adoption as a 17 year old, and this book details her search and yearning for her daughter. Mostly her yearning.
I would absolutely have DNF'd this book if it wasn't longlisted. While the narrative voice was good, it's all "telling" and no showing. So boring. It was a short book, and I just wanted it to end. In the entire book, aside from the initial chapter, there was ONE scene that I found interesting. ONE. Where the narrator gets into an argument with her father.
And p.s.: If you aren't a parent, I really don't know if you could possibly enjoy this book. I could relate to the parental feelings described, but I think I would have found this even more dreary if I hadn't been able to relate to at least that one aspect.
Beyond that, there's nothing to interpret. Nothing to really think about or ponder. Very little suspense. It's more of a "slice of life" novel with beautiful descriptions of the Caribbean and interesting historical tidbits about Venezuela. The author definitely knows how to describe landscapes and feelings, but in every other way this book didn't work for me as a reader. I am not a person who needs a big plotline to be satisfied, but this book felt like being stuck at a cocktail party with a really boring person telling stories about people you don't know and don't care about.
Love Forms is the story of a 58 year old, separated mother of two adult sons as she looks back on her life. Her one big regret is that she (somewhat unwillingly) gave up an infant daughter for adoption as a 17 year old, and this book details her search and yearning for her daughter. Mostly her yearning.
I would absolutely have DNF'd this book if it wasn't longlisted. While the narrative voice was good, it's all "telling" and no showing. So boring. It was a short book, and I just wanted it to end. In the entire book, aside from the initial chapter, there was ONE scene that I found interesting. ONE. Where the narrator gets into an argument with her father.
And p.s.: If you aren't a parent, I really don't know if you could possibly enjoy this book. I could relate to the parental feelings described, but I think I would have found this even more dreary if I hadn't been able to relate to at least that one aspect.
Beyond that, there's nothing to interpret. Nothing to really think about or ponder. Very little suspense. It's more of a "slice of life" novel with beautiful descriptions of the Caribbean and interesting historical tidbits about Venezuela. The author definitely knows how to describe landscapes and feelings, but in every other way this book didn't work for me as a reader. I am not a person who needs a big plotline to be satisfied, but this book felt like being stuck at a cocktail party with a really boring person telling stories about people you don't know and don't care about.
August 25, 2025
Ah, yes… my yearly dose of Booker disappointments. I should have known better when one blurb says that Love Forms reads like a Claire Keegan story expanded by Elizabeth Strout. That’s exactly right and not a good thing! It’s not the familiarity of the story that frustrates me, but the lack of urgency or freshness in the writing itself.
Next!
Next!
August 1, 2025
I did not finish this book. I got to 53% and couldn't go any farther. To me it just kept going over the same things; chapter after chapter. She never got to the nitty gritty of the book. I found it boring. It is very rare that I don't finish books but this one was painful.
August 2, 2025
A few minor spoilers ahead:
“Maybe my story wasn’t: Dawn, who made a mistake and brought shame to her family. Maybe it’s: Dawn, mortal woman, who took a wrong turn in life and got lost.”
I’ll grant that Love Forms is an undemanding, accessible work of fiction that conveys some interesting information about the culture, politics, and geography of Trinidad (and, to a lesser extent, Venezuela). Beyond that. . . Hmm. . . I dunno. That it should’ve been considered worthy of a Booker nomination actually stuns me. What were the judges thinking?
Dawn Bishop is the novel’s first-person narrator. She’s a 58-year-old recently divorced white Trinidadian who has lived in England since arriving to study there in her late teens. Briefly—and implausibly, given her character traits—a physician, she gave up medicine when her sons were born, finding it too difficult to manage both motherhood and a demanding profession. Born into a wealthy family, Dawn reflects on her life from the age of sixteen when she became pregnant. In 1980, she recklessly initiated a sexual encounter with a total stranger during the island’s annual Carnival festivities—because she wanted to be like her friends and have sex.
When her parents gave her a say in the decision-making around the shameful pregnancy, Dawn had made it clear to them that she didn’t want the child and wished to continue with her studies. Her father subsequently had her whisked off to Venezuela under cover of night, where she stayed for several months in a secluded house for girls like herself. Situated in the forest, the place was run by nuns who delivered the illegitimate babies of their teenaged charges and arranged for the infants’ adoptions.
Now in late middle age, Dawn—a member of numerous internet forums geared at reunions between birth mothers and adoptees—is continuing in her efforts to track down the daughter she gave up over forty years before. (The impulse first arose shortly after the birth of her first son in 1992, when she apparently came to understand what motherhood was really about.) Finding the surrendered child is difficult to do, as Dawn has no knowledge of where in Venezuela she was taken or which order of nuns cared for her. Her traditional Trinidadian family’s opposition to her search is yet another major impediment. We learn quite early on in the novel that a 42-year-old woman adopted in Caracas and now living in Europe has contacted Dawn. Unfortunately, we must endure pages of tedium to discover if this person, Monica Sartori, is in fact the long-lost daughter.
Adam’s novel reads like a memoir—and a meandering, repetitive, and less-than-compelling one at that. The prose is plain, even insipid at times, and the book is filled with many dull details of Dawn’s daily life. Adam has created a protagonist who seems inordinately preoccupied with the inconsequential. It is the reader’s unfortunate task to have to labour through seemingly endless descriptions of people’s clothing, the layout of rooms, and details about furnishings—the sofas in her parents’ and her friend Niall’s living rooms, for example. Explanations are gratuitously provided for things that require no explanation. For instance, we’re told airmail paper is thin and the internet allows us to find once inaccessible information. (Did Adam believe she was writing for an audience without any notion of the pre-digital age? It seems so.) There’s also a lot of travelogue-type padding about Trinidad. Not surprisingly perhaps, the reader is subjected to Dawn’s ongoing and shifting speculations about her daughter’s present appearance, character, profession, economic status, family life, and current place of residence. A novella or a short story may have been a more suitable vehicle for such a thin plot, but I’m doubtful the author would’ve had the chops to appropriately pare down her material.
The novel marginally picks up pace about halfway through—when the main character is recalling the early days of her marriage to a fellow physician and the stress of caring for her first son in a tiny drafty attic flat. Then, in the final few chapters, the pace furiously intensifies, only to come to a sudden dud of a conclusion.
Yes, I completed this novel, but I did not enjoy it. To be clear: this is not a work of literary merit. The work is marred by poor pacing, poor prose, and a protagonist in whom I found it hard to summon up any interest. There’s not much of a plot to compensate for these deficiencies, almost all of which are due, in my view, to poor authorial judgement and insufficient guidance from a good editor. Had this not been a nominee for a prestigious prize, I know I would’ve abandoned it. I am somewhat surprised it even saw publication. If you, like me, are wary of novels described as “heartfelt”—many readers apparently are not—you may want to think twice before taking this one on. It would’ve taken a very capable writer to create a good novel on this subject without resorting to clichés and becoming sentimental. Adam is not that person.
“Maybe my story wasn’t: Dawn, who made a mistake and brought shame to her family. Maybe it’s: Dawn, mortal woman, who took a wrong turn in life and got lost.”
I’ll grant that Love Forms is an undemanding, accessible work of fiction that conveys some interesting information about the culture, politics, and geography of Trinidad (and, to a lesser extent, Venezuela). Beyond that. . . Hmm. . . I dunno. That it should’ve been considered worthy of a Booker nomination actually stuns me. What were the judges thinking?
Dawn Bishop is the novel’s first-person narrator. She’s a 58-year-old recently divorced white Trinidadian who has lived in England since arriving to study there in her late teens. Briefly—and implausibly, given her character traits—a physician, she gave up medicine when her sons were born, finding it too difficult to manage both motherhood and a demanding profession. Born into a wealthy family, Dawn reflects on her life from the age of sixteen when she became pregnant. In 1980, she recklessly initiated a sexual encounter with a total stranger during the island’s annual Carnival festivities—because she wanted to be like her friends and have sex.
When her parents gave her a say in the decision-making around the shameful pregnancy, Dawn had made it clear to them that she didn’t want the child and wished to continue with her studies. Her father subsequently had her whisked off to Venezuela under cover of night, where she stayed for several months in a secluded house for girls like herself. Situated in the forest, the place was run by nuns who delivered the illegitimate babies of their teenaged charges and arranged for the infants’ adoptions.
Now in late middle age, Dawn—a member of numerous internet forums geared at reunions between birth mothers and adoptees—is continuing in her efforts to track down the daughter she gave up over forty years before. (The impulse first arose shortly after the birth of her first son in 1992, when she apparently came to understand what motherhood was really about.) Finding the surrendered child is difficult to do, as Dawn has no knowledge of where in Venezuela she was taken or which order of nuns cared for her. Her traditional Trinidadian family’s opposition to her search is yet another major impediment. We learn quite early on in the novel that a 42-year-old woman adopted in Caracas and now living in Europe has contacted Dawn. Unfortunately, we must endure pages of tedium to discover if this person, Monica Sartori, is in fact the long-lost daughter.
Adam’s novel reads like a memoir—and a meandering, repetitive, and less-than-compelling one at that. The prose is plain, even insipid at times, and the book is filled with many dull details of Dawn’s daily life. Adam has created a protagonist who seems inordinately preoccupied with the inconsequential. It is the reader’s unfortunate task to have to labour through seemingly endless descriptions of people’s clothing, the layout of rooms, and details about furnishings—the sofas in her parents’ and her friend Niall’s living rooms, for example. Explanations are gratuitously provided for things that require no explanation. For instance, we’re told airmail paper is thin and the internet allows us to find once inaccessible information. (Did Adam believe she was writing for an audience without any notion of the pre-digital age? It seems so.) There’s also a lot of travelogue-type padding about Trinidad. Not surprisingly perhaps, the reader is subjected to Dawn’s ongoing and shifting speculations about her daughter’s present appearance, character, profession, economic status, family life, and current place of residence. A novella or a short story may have been a more suitable vehicle for such a thin plot, but I’m doubtful the author would’ve had the chops to appropriately pare down her material.
The novel marginally picks up pace about halfway through—when the main character is recalling the early days of her marriage to a fellow physician and the stress of caring for her first son in a tiny drafty attic flat. Then, in the final few chapters, the pace furiously intensifies, only to come to a sudden dud of a conclusion.
Yes, I completed this novel, but I did not enjoy it. To be clear: this is not a work of literary merit. The work is marred by poor pacing, poor prose, and a protagonist in whom I found it hard to summon up any interest. There’s not much of a plot to compensate for these deficiencies, almost all of which are due, in my view, to poor authorial judgement and insufficient guidance from a good editor. Had this not been a nominee for a prestigious prize, I know I would’ve abandoned it. I am somewhat surprised it even saw publication. If you, like me, are wary of novels described as “heartfelt”—many readers apparently are not—you may want to think twice before taking this one on. It would’ve taken a very capable writer to create a good novel on this subject without resorting to clichés and becoming sentimental. Adam is not that person.
January 6, 2025
Clocking in at just 200 pages on my tiny phone screen, this book rejects the fast pace that characterizes works of a similar length. It meanders through the life of Dawn Bishop, unhurried and uneventful. We follow her journey through teen pregnancy, conflicting national identities, and complex relationships. Normally such rich topics for exploration, they are utilized here in a way that feels neither personal nor profound. We learn so much about her, yet I depart wondering who Dawn is and what she really wants. Her voice throughout retains a distanced and matter-of-fact quality that resists interactivity.
This inner conflict is somewhat represented in the text as she searches for her missing piece, and I wished to see these themes consume more of the word count. We take a considerable time to describe the political, social, and relational conditions that would've developed in a longer novel, but weren't optimized for this story. Love Forms is a love letter to Trinidad with little obligation to be anything else.
Thank you to Random House for the e-ARC.
This inner conflict is somewhat represented in the text as she searches for her missing piece, and I wished to see these themes consume more of the word count. We take a considerable time to describe the political, social, and relational conditions that would've developed in a longer novel, but weren't optimized for this story. Love Forms is a love letter to Trinidad with little obligation to be anything else.
Thank you to Random House for the e-ARC.
August 24, 2025
Love Forms follows protagonist Dawn Bishop, a 58-year-old divorced woman living in London, who wants to reconnect with the daughter she gave up for adoption over four decades earlier. Her family has kept a vow never to speak of it. The story begins in Dawn's birthplace of Trinidad with a night-time secret trip to Venezuela. Told by Dawn in first person, the narrative moves between past and present as Dawn, now divorced with two grown sons, is contacted by a woman on an internet forum who says that she might be her daughter. The book explores maternal love, memories, regrets, and decisions that shape a life. I found this a moving story of a woman trying to come to terms with her past. After a slow start, it drew me in, and I cared about Dawn. It is not a ground-breaking topic, but it is a beautifully written story with a powerful ending.
September 1, 2025
Booker Book 11 of 13, 7 out of 10 rating.
Extra points for Melanie LaBarrie, a Trini actress who reads the hell out of this book. I could listen to this woman read the phone book (if we still had phone books). She's great.
A moving book about a woman searching for the child she gave up as a teen. Slow paced at times, but I enjoyed the gradual accretion of feeling, and the sense of place and mores that Adam conveys.
Extra points for Melanie LaBarrie, a Trini actress who reads the hell out of this book. I could listen to this woman read the phone book (if we still had phone books). She's great.
A moving book about a woman searching for the child she gave up as a teen. Slow paced at times, but I enjoyed the gradual accretion of feeling, and the sense of place and mores that Adam conveys.
August 8, 2025
The first chapter of Love Forms introduces us to Dawn, sixteen and pregnant after a one night tryst with a manipulative older man. She is quietly sent away in the dead of night, from Trinidad and Tobago to Venezuela to have her baby, a daughter who is taken away for adoption.
Over the next forty years, Dawn is haunted by the question: What if? Where is she? As she combs internet forums searching for her child, we learn that Dawn is divorced, has two grown sons, yet is constantly wondering, Where is my daughter?
Love Forms, recently longlisted for the Booker Prize, is a quiet, unassuming book. If you’re not interested in novels that linger on the everyday details of life, this may not be for you, but I found it quietly captivating:
"The sun shone through the glass of the French doors, lighting up a section of the living room, and revealing dust on the surfaces of things-the lower shelves of the coffee table, the blank television screen. I studied the backs of my hands. The nails a little long and untidy. The skin a little dry. The faint dent around my ring finger, where my wedding band used to be."
While the story is about never forgetting the past, it’s also a love letter to Trinidad and Tobago, where author Claire Adam grew up. Woven through the narrative is a subtle layer of history:
economics, tourism, colonialism, even a brief account of Carnival. The historical elements are so understated you might not absorb them all on the first read.
"This is one of the things that I’m ashamed of: that there have been times, as now, when I felt bitter about how the mistake I made at sixteen has affected my whole life. How it feels like it’s taken chunks out of my life, and it still hasn’t stopped."
This is a novel about aging, reconciling the past with the present, and facing the future. Dawn is a strong, memorable protagonist, and the narrative at times feels like a memoir.
"Maybe my story wasn’t: Dawn, who made a mistake and brought shame to her family. Maybe it’s: Dawn, mortal woman, who took a wrong turn in life and got lost."
I really enjoyed this book and look forward to reading whatever Adam writes next.
Over the next forty years, Dawn is haunted by the question: What if? Where is she? As she combs internet forums searching for her child, we learn that Dawn is divorced, has two grown sons, yet is constantly wondering, Where is my daughter?
Love Forms, recently longlisted for the Booker Prize, is a quiet, unassuming book. If you’re not interested in novels that linger on the everyday details of life, this may not be for you, but I found it quietly captivating:
"The sun shone through the glass of the French doors, lighting up a section of the living room, and revealing dust on the surfaces of things-the lower shelves of the coffee table, the blank television screen. I studied the backs of my hands. The nails a little long and untidy. The skin a little dry. The faint dent around my ring finger, where my wedding band used to be."
While the story is about never forgetting the past, it’s also a love letter to Trinidad and Tobago, where author Claire Adam grew up. Woven through the narrative is a subtle layer of history:
economics, tourism, colonialism, even a brief account of Carnival. The historical elements are so understated you might not absorb them all on the first read.
"This is one of the things that I’m ashamed of: that there have been times, as now, when I felt bitter about how the mistake I made at sixteen has affected my whole life. How it feels like it’s taken chunks out of my life, and it still hasn’t stopped."
This is a novel about aging, reconciling the past with the present, and facing the future. Dawn is a strong, memorable protagonist, and the narrative at times feels like a memoir.
"Maybe my story wasn’t: Dawn, who made a mistake and brought shame to her family. Maybe it’s: Dawn, mortal woman, who took a wrong turn in life and got lost."
I really enjoyed this book and look forward to reading whatever Adam writes next.
July 31, 2025
good effort, but imo novels of recollection really need a strong central narrative throughline to hold them together and keep them from feeling like a convoluted story your grandma is telling (without the inherent interest factor of it being your own grandma). don’t think this will win the booker!
*thanks to netgalley for the arc!*
my netgalley review:
I think this novel will probably work for a lot of readers, but I had a hard time with it on a structural level. Novels of recollection can be very moving and rich, but they can also be slack and rambling, which is unfortunately the side this one comes down on. Without a strong narrative throughline in the present story -- the search for the missing daughter could have served as this but doesn't -- we don't have much to grab onto, and end up feeling like passive observers of somebody else's memory. There's lots of vivid nostalgic detail here, but not much else -- the prose feels workmanlike and the side characters are standard and shallowly developed. What's worse, the novel raises questions about class, race, empire, and wealth that it seems completely uninterested in exploring. I'm pretty surprised this made the Booker longlist.
*thanks to netgalley for the arc!*
my netgalley review:
I think this novel will probably work for a lot of readers, but I had a hard time with it on a structural level. Novels of recollection can be very moving and rich, but they can also be slack and rambling, which is unfortunately the side this one comes down on. Without a strong narrative throughline in the present story -- the search for the missing daughter could have served as this but doesn't -- we don't have much to grab onto, and end up feeling like passive observers of somebody else's memory. There's lots of vivid nostalgic detail here, but not much else -- the prose feels workmanlike and the side characters are standard and shallowly developed. What's worse, the novel raises questions about class, race, empire, and wealth that it seems completely uninterested in exploring. I'm pretty surprised this made the Booker longlist.
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