The Naked Light

by Bridget Collins

A village haunted by stories. Two women bound by a secret.A haunting gothic tale of ancient darkness and a love that defies convention, from Sunday Times #1 bestseller Bridget Collins.

'Bridget Collins at her beguiling best' EMILIA HART

'I honestly never thought another author could rival Sarah Waters… but I was wrong. I haven't read a historical novel quite as good as this in years!' LOUISE MORRISH

Watching over the village of Haltington is an ancient carving in the ground, known to locals simply as the Face. It was first etched into the chalk when lives were ruled by superstition and stories; by fear of the unknown, of the shadows.

For centuries, the inhabitants of Bone Cottage have tended to it. But now that the Great War has decimated the population of even this most isolated of places, the Face stands neglected and overgrown.

When enigmatic outsider Kit moves into the cottage, the villagers are suspicious of her androgynous appearance and bohemian ways. In defiance of their disapproval, the vicar’s unmarried sister-in-law Florence finds herself inexplicably drawn to Kit, and the friendship that grows between them becomes a light in the dark for her.

But the Face calls things to it, and now Florence and Kit are in its path…

A haunting gothic tale of ancient darkness and a love that defies convention, from Sunday Times #1 bestseller Bridget Collins.

Bridget Collins's book 'The Silence Factory' was a Sunday Times bestseller w/c 2024-04-29.

Genres: Historical Fiction, Historical, Horror, Fiction, Audiobook, Fantasy, LGBT

380 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 2025

About the author

Bridget Collins has works written under the name B.R Collins.

Reviews

[Ceecee · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars

Haltington, Sussex.
The Haltington Face is carved into the ground, its eyes are flat ovals and the mouth a horizontal line. Whilst it lacks expression, it isn’t entirely unfriendly. Over the many centuries since it is etched in chalk at a time of superstition and strong beliefs in dark forces, it watches over the village and protects it. The inhabitants of Bone Cottage maintain it but the Great War has decimated the Bone family men, just leaving their mother Aggie, who is believed to be a witch. Now, the face is neglected and overgrown by grass. When Aggie dies shortly after the war, bohemian, androgynous artist Kit Clayton moves into Bone Cottage to recover from a past relationship and her traumatic work as an artist making masks for those mutilated by the war. Close by Bone Cottage is the Vicarage where Florence Stock lives, the sister-in-law of the widowed vicar and who tries to care for her tricky niece Phoebe Manning, with whom she has a fractious relationship. Florence finds herself inexplicably drawn to the unconventional Kit and a friendship develops. However, just because the Face can no longer be seen, it doesn’t mean it’s not working. In fact, it has other ideas entirely as both women are in its sights.

I confess to struggling with the book at the start as it seems so long winded and slow. However, it does allow the reader to understand the main characters and they become increasingly interesting in different ways. There’s various kinds of tension between them frequently with Phoebe being the catalyst. It captures post war times well and contextually it’s good although I can’t say I especially like the backwards and forwards nature of the approach to the storytelling.

As the novel progresses the Gothic elements come to the fore and I find reading it a much more enjoyable experience. I really like the concept of the novel, the creativity of the face, the roots of it all in the fearful depths of the mists of time. I like how the myths, legends and sinister, malevolent forces become intertwined with forbidden love. Some of the ghostly scenes are really good and are well described. Whilst I do enjoy the ending as it feels right, there’s a four year jump to it and it seems significant things have happened in the interim which are skimmed over.

Overall, whilst it’s a very atmospheric read the slow start does impact on my star rating.

With thanks to NetGalley and especially to the publishers for their much appreciated early copy in return for an honest review.

[Alwynne · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sapphic love story meets folk horror in an England reeling from the aftermath of WW1. Set in the fictional Haltington village on the Sussex coast, two isolated women meet and form a fragile bond. Artist Kit’s newly returned from France where she crafted face masks for mutilated men back from battle. This experience has had a profound effect on Kit’s state of mind, the men’s wounded faces stirring terrifying, recurring nightmares. In Haltington, Kit’s short hair and androgynous outfits mark her out as somehow different, a source of fascination particularly for lonely, local spinster Florence. Consumed by fantasies of escape, Florence lives in the village vicarage with bored, teenage niece Phoebe and widowed brother-in-law Horace the parish priest. Looming over the village are the rapidly decaying remains of an ancient chalk carving dubbed Haltington Face said to ward off an equally ancient evil. Horace, who resembles a character from a story by M. R. James, dabbles in Sussex folklore. He’s obsessed by tales of the thurlath, a sinister, murderous creature which can assume human form, capable of inhabiting anything with a human likeness – the reason why the local church is devoid of images resembling people. Kit and Florence gradually develop a passionate but tentative relationship. However, this is threatened both by Phoebe’s increasingly malicious actions and the thurlath’s reawakening – no longer held in check by the Haltington Face.

Bridget Collins’s prose is more than decent and her story is clearly well-researched – although I’d have appreciated an afterword distinguishing between historical and fictional material, outlining sources and influences. But the plot and structure could be frustratingly uneven and the pacing unnecessarily slow. I found the abrupt switches from one character’s perspective to another’s, especially in the early stages, distracting, distancing me from the story. The folkloric elements often felt grafted on - they don’t really take off until the final chapters. Additionally, the love affair between Kit and Florence could tip towards stereotypes about doomed lesbians and sapphism as a substitute for lack of available, suitable men. After several will-they-won’t-they chapters, it didn’t help that the plot device that finally leads to Florence and Kit having sex is attempted rape. It’s also the second attempted rape in the novel – I still don’t understand the role of the first one in the overall narrative which makes me more than a little uncomfortable. And, for me anyway, the post-coital angst scenes were too numerous and too heavily underscored. So, very mixed reactions to this one. But, even though this didn’t really work for me, fans of Sarah Perry and/or Emma Donoghue’s historical fiction may well find it more appealing.

Thanks to Netgalley and publisher Borough Press for an ARC

Rating: 2.5 rounded up

[Rina | Worldsbetweenpages · Rating 3 out of 5]

Thank you so much HarperCollins UK, HarperFiction | The Borough Press for the arc!

**3,5/5**

„She had wanted to make the viewer feel small: look, she had meant to say, how beautiful it all is, how little we are, how absurd it is to think we matter.“

- post-WW1
- small town setting
- folklore
- sinister force
- sapphic relationship

What I liked:
The parts about the lore of the ancient face carved into the hill above the small village. I was intrigued by how it impacted the people, whether they believed in its supernatural powers or not. Its existence, and the possible danger it represented, was always looming in the back of my mind throughout the whole story. Character-wise, I found the main character’s teenage niece the most interesting. She was such an observant and calculating child that her next moves and intentions were hard to predict.
I also appreciated the insights into the history of aesthetic prostheses for wounded soldiers, since facial reconstruction treatments weren’t yet well developed. Some of those sections were truly devastating.

What I didn’t like:
The book's marketing made it seem like the supernatural elements were playing a much bigger part, but until the last 30% they were barely mentioned. For many chapters, the ancient carving and its lore weren't mentioned at all, as if they had been completely forgotten. It was more of a post-WW1 sapphic romance story for the most part.

[Sophie Breese · Rating 3 out of 5]

This novel didn’t work for me. I see what she was doing - post war trauma expresses itself via the gothic and I was reminded of Yeats’ poem ‘The Second Coming’. Although Collins is a good writer, the novel seemed uncertain of its genre.

It began with what I felt was an unnecessary attempted rape. It didn’t add anything. I wasn’t convinced by the characters and didn’t like any of them. And the gothic stuff made me laugh at the end. For me it simply didn’t work.

[Erin · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am ride-or-die for Bridget Collins; steer-my-car-into-a-canyon-for-her-next-book kind of devotion. So, the email from HarperFiction inviting me to read ‘The Naked Light’ arrived like a kid-you-not gold embossed invitation to the palace.

While I hate to say anything as pedestrian as “Collins has outdone herself with this one” (because she does, after all, have over a decade in the publishing industry across multiple genres, audiences, and media), ‘The Naked Light’ is assuredly the book – her fourth full-length novel for adults – where I feel her voice has purified and distilled. I can very clearly now pick out her style and authorship amidst a line-up of contemporary fiction, even within that space she occupies on the Venn diagram where Historical Fiction, Speculative, Gothic, Paranormal, and Queer Fiction overlap.

So, how has she outdone herself? The Binding and The Betrayals took terrific strides into Speculative Fiction/Fantasy, and I was wholly ‘all in’ with Collins for both of those mindbogglingly specific worlds she created for them. Though, with her last novel, Collins refined her technique of affixing plot and narrative to the rig of historical setting. Just as in The Silence Factory last year, this latest release zones in on an explicit era of British history. But whereas the Industrial Revolution provided an exemplary speculative backdrop for Sophia Ashmore-Percy’s extraordinary story in ‘The Silence Factory’ in 2024, the narrative could just as successfully have existed lifted wholly out of time. However, the First World War not only serves as backdrop to Kit’s story in ‘The Naked Light’, but the story and its setting are correlative, causal; Kit’s story cannot be lifted outside of that one instant in history. And this overarching structural unity is the vital pin in the tumbler that springs open the lock of Collins’ artistry. With this level of cohesion, Collins’ latest novel is indisputably sound – indefectible.

This peak – prime – pristine – unity is signalled straight off by Collins’ title, ‘The Naked Light’. When many of us call to mind British poetry of the First World War (especially those of us who have taught it to countless English Lit pupils), I’m sure the names Wilfred Owen, Siegfried Sassoon and Edward Thomas come easily to remembrance. Yet Collins does not look to those familiar masculine accounts to cite as opening reference in this novel, but to Eleanor Farjeon. Farjeon is one of the few female poets of that era whose work has – uncommonly – prevailed, and it furnishes us with an invaluable textual record of women’s voices from this age of supreme upheaval, transformation and (imaginable) liberation for women. Bridget Collins calls in an authoritative female voice to ring the tone for this novel with Eleanor Farjeon’s poem ‘Peace’.

Key to the unity of Collins’ plot and setting is her use of imagery, which starts with this title. Light is the medium by which we see. Consequently, the imagery Collins carries off so tremendously is all about looking. The phrase ‘naked light’ carries an inference of something harsh or distasteful that was previously hidden, being exposed or revealed. Run this inference backwards upon itself, and what we get is obfuscation, distortion; it jumbles up any literary foreboding for us readers. Bridget Collins manipulates imagery consistently and insistently throughout the novel, playing with sight and looking, the human impulse to interpret identity from facial image, and – above all – the concept of disfigurement of faces; defacement.

As to the context of the phrase ‘naked light’ in Farjeon’s poem: in a personified voice Peace speaks in direct address to the reader. Peace counsels humankind not to ‘call me good’, cautioning, ‘my good is but the negative of ill’ and ‘my single virtue is the end of crimes’. Defining itself only as ‘the ceasing of horrors’, Peace strikes a tone of admonition, chastising warring nations for feeding upon the lives of generations of men. It warns the warring nations to dread its ‘naked light’ that, when it shines upon their darkness, will force them to – in Peace’s frightful rebuke – ‘behold what ye have done’.

The significance of Collins invoking this Farjeon poem is threefold. Firstly, it situates us in the period of the Great War while secondly heralding a female perspective on war. Thirdly and wondrously, the poem unites and therefore prefigures all of Collins’ preoccupations in this novel: women’s place in wartime; the ‘peace’ that follows war; the expectation of the possibility of love in that context; and the motif of faces. Because, in Farjeon’s poem, Peace declares to the nations it addresses, ‘I am as awful as my brother War’; war specifically, when it is reflected upon, that ‘makes the nations’ soul stand still / And freeze to stone beneath a Gorgon glare’ when, in peacetime, nations eventually come to ‘know the cost at last’. So, the power of looking can be destructive. A glare can make the soul stand still; the face of War has made the British nation’s soul stand still.

Peace also describes its own face as disfigured by wounds of war: ‘I am the face that shows its seamy scar / When blood and frenzy has lost its glamour.’ And here we climb into Collins’ plot, where our female protagonist Kit is introduced as horrified, traumatised, by this maimed face of Peace, ‘show[ing] its seamy scar’ in the mangled faces of those whom Farjeon calls ‘the father and the son […] fed endlessly’ to the ‘ravenous engines’ of warring nations. Kit has found herself in Paris painting what might be called portrait masks for these men to wear in order to hide their ‘seamy scar[s]’ from the world. In this way, Collins uses distressing imagery of faces to dig into the theme of identity post-war. The world cannot bear to look Peace in the face – Peace is the mutilated soldiers’ faces – so Kit must make images on masks: ‘as she turned to pick up her suitcase she met the gaze of one of the plaster masks, and its wound gave it a crooked sardonic smile.’ (I’d also insert here a nod to Natasha Pulley’s latest release this year, The Hymn to Dionysus, which uses the same imagery of masked faces to investigate identity.)

Substantially, the novel revolves around a gigantic geoglyph of a face; seemingly as ancient as the Uffington White Horse or the Cerne Abbas Giant. Since a glare can make a soul stand still, and the entire village of Haltington is overlooked by this face, Kit finds herself returning from France to England – fleeing the emotionally damaging work she was doing with wounded soldiers’ faces – only to be subject to precisely the same ravaging imagery here: another face. The thrust of the plot is whether Kit is to succumb to its force, whether she will identify it as the source of the sinister mood; whether its gaze is malevolent or benign (Collins writes, ‘was it a friendly face? [Florence] would not have said so. Nor was it exactly unfriendly’). In this novel, the ominous sense of mood created by this fact of being overseen isn’t so much sombre as it is clutching, confining.

The chalk hill drawing of the Face is arguably its own ‘seamy scar’ on the landscape: lines cut into the grass of the hillside: ‘It was the simplest possible face, a face in four lines: brief horizontal eyes, vertical nose, long impassive mouth.’ The Face is genderless – fluid, expression changing as it becomes overgrown – though ‘a pattern so spare and brief that it was astonishing how clearly it was a face.’ Even so, Collins presents it as symbolically potent with female energy. It’s witchy Mrs Bones who tends to it (her final act is particularly affecting). In Florence’s remembrance of her late sister, Collins provides readers with a detailed chronicle of the Face’s association with the feminine, through pregnancy and childbirth: ‘when I was waiting for Baby to come, I would lie on the chalk [Face] and watch the clouds and dream, and I knew it would keep us both safe […]. When she did come […] I could see it from the bedroom window, […] I almost prayed to it. […]. I think it must have been the first face Baby ever saw.’ The Baby is Phoebe.

Collins makes it clear that this is not a novel about men; in fact, the men in the novel are either broken or predatory, in some cases both. Strikingly, Collins situates a rape scene actually on the Face in the beginning of the book, and this episode is looped again and again through figurative scenes of assault or proprietorial harassment by men towards our three female protagonists (we have a triple p-o-v split narrative), linking them to one another – Kit Clayton, Florence Stock, and Phoebe Manning – in the chain of loss, loneliness, and isolation. And each time Collins includes one of these scenes, it figures imagery of faces. Collins urges her readers to ponder whether Peace is really ‘the negative of ill’ for women. It’s a crushing authorial perspective that she has adopted, skewed to gaze at post-war ‘peace’ and ask, is it, in fact, the end of crimes and the ceasing of horrors from this female point of view?

So, gender and sexuality are represented through the leitmotifs of gazing, of faces being turned to look upon something, or of being gazed at. Nowhere is it more significant than in the relationships triangulated between our three female protagonists Kit, Florence, and Phoebe. Pivotal to this is all the gazing that takes place as Kit contemplates faces with her artist’s eye. Meaningful scenes here include Florence’s desire that Kit be drawing her face as Florence gazes out to sea, and Phoebe’s brash attempts to lure Kit into drawing her. The blurb and author endorsements discuss ‘a story of forbidden love’ (wow, how I despise that comp-het phrase) and ‘heroines [with a] profoundly affecting [love story]’, so I’m not giving anything away by discussing Kit and Florence’s Sapphic relationship. One of the most significant moments in terms of Collins’ leitmotif is when they are watched by Phoebe in a moment of sexual intimacy.

In fact, Phoebe – calculating, manipulative, devious – functions as the trigger, or catalyst, for much of the dramatic plot points that drive the book’s momentum, very often through the act of her gazing (as above). But not only that: there is poignancy to her destruction (defacement) of Florence’s much-loved doll’s porcelain face; she has a pointed connection to Mrs Bones, the caretaker of the geoglyph; and it is Phoebe who alerts readers to Haltington’s ‘hungry spirits’ and their appetite for animating through possession any image of a face save the geoglyph, when she illicitly displays her late mother’s photograph. She is a nexus of the novel’s uncanny energy.

Of course, with the historical setting and the Sapphic romance, comparisons will be made with Sarah Waters, and with the looming Gothic otherworldliness, to Laura Purcell – and I’m very happy if Collins is the third author in that triumvirate! ‘The Naked Light’ has the Folk Horror elements of Hare House by Sally Hinchcliffe, Mere by Danielle Giles, and Foxash by Kate Worsley (or for fans of male authors, Andrew Michael Hurley and Sam K. Horton – what’s going on with tripartite names there?!). ‘The Naked Light’ is radiant with emotional intensity. I ask myself, how does Collins do it again and again, like every book’s her magnum opus? I feel like she only just released ‘The Silence Factory’ and I thought her writing couldn’t get any better than that. Yet ‘The Naked Light’ is even more immersive – if that’s possible – even more chilling, even more eloquent in its articulation of the horror of misogyny and the dread suffered by women – and most particularly queer women – at the hands of men in historical settings. How does she do it? That’s the thing about Bridget Collins – I think she actually might be magic . Deep, deep gratitude to HarperFiction for an eARC.

[Bella Azam · Rating 2 out of 5]

This started super slow for my liking to which I understand its important to set up the story on introducing us to the characters and their determination. But I found myself hard to follow the story and skimmed most of the plot in my mind. I was expecting more Gothic theme on this book, however, this felt barely Gothic and more of slow burn drama. There is the superstition or beliefs tied to the Haltington Face, a chalk face carved into the hillside said to protect the local and village from evil spirits. This tradition was being kept alive by the Bone family but the Great War had killed the men of the Bone family and the Bone Cottage left uninhabited. Soon, an androgynous artist, Kit Clayton moved to the cottage, her appearance led to the villager's scrutiny as she doesn't fit in to the society. Attraction sparked between her and the unmarried sister in law of the Vicarage, Florence, whom is now taking care of her niece Phoebe Manning, the young child

While I'm a fan of historical fiction, I found this book a bore and thats kinda sad because I was expecting more. The plot moves slowly and the characters felt lacking and dull as their personality wasn't explored much. Its frustrating when I barely have any interest in whatever happened in this book and it does impact my reading. There are few scenes of sexual assault that get brushed off so easily and I'm mad about it bcus I wished we get some conversation on this cuz those are really hard to read. I expected more on the exploration of the war and how this affect the soldier as they get disfigured & crippled from the horribleness since Kit crafted a mask to cover these men's scarred from the war amd this was interesting to read. The horror elements or curse of the Haltington Face took the backseat for the most part without much context while we are just reading about the 2 characters. I dont think the story highlighted the folkloric tale or historical context well, they just felt shallow & most of the time, I'm just not interested in whatever this is. I do found Phoebe, the pubescent teenager interesting bcus she just lost her mother, her attitude & demeanor may seems wild or devious but i think she is just a child who doesnt understand much about the world and was thrown into an unfamiliar territory growing up

Thank you Times Reads for the review copy.

[Susan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Review to follow nearer publication date.

Due to be published 25th September 2025

I love Bridget Collins writing and thoroughly enjoyed The Naked Light. It’s a very creepy story set just after WW1. Bridget’s writing as always is atmospheric with slight gothic vibes. The end of the war was a terrible time with men returning home with horrific injuries and facial wounds. This is where The Naked Light comes into its own. It’s not an easy story to read but it’s compelling too.
Thank you to Netgalley for the opportunity to read and review this book.

[Jen · Rating 4 out of 5]

4🌟

[Aria · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is a slooooow burn. If I had been asked to write a review on the first half alone it would have been quite different to this one now I have consumed the whole story. I will actually make the bold claim that this is my favourite of Bridget Collins books I've read (The Binding, The Silence Factory).

It is a slow start and I found myself wanting to skip forward, but by about 40% in it felt like the story really got into its stride. It explores myth, magic, the aftermath of war, sexuality in the 20s. What I liked was the creeping, slow build up of dread, the reality of life after war and the horrendous injuries internal and external. I liked the interplay of the female characters. I liked the small village post-war atmosphere. I liked the surface exploration of the tug of preternatural/supernatural, folk stories rooted in something horribly existent.

There was more I would have liked: more of the village, more of Phoebe to understand her better, more of the Face, which as a central 'character' lurks in the background but is only really explored in the last quarter. The men in the book are all lacking and subsidiary, fleeting characters only present to further the plot rather than fully fleshed out. I would have liked a bit extra in the first third to hook me in.

Overall, I enjoyed the book. When I had finished it I went straight back to read the poem at the start, from which the title is drawn, and its impact was more powerful than when I skimmed it at the start. There is absolutely no doubt Bridget Collins is a very talented author.

Thanks to NetGalley for an ARC of the book.

[Chandra Summers · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 ⭐️ rounded down.

Ignoring my major qualms with Collins’ overuse of exclamation points, I found this story fell very flat for me.

I expected the magical realism to play more of a part in the story, not suddenly show up in the last 80% of the book. The story built absolutely no tension and then suddenly paranormal things were happening. To be perfectly honest, not much even really happened, which would be okay if there was at least some character development and personal growth for the protagonists.

Characters came and went without much real purpose, plot points were raised that went nowhere and were completely inconsequential.

I really enjoyed The Binding, so I had high hopes for this one, but instead I am left bitterly disappointed.

[Janelle · Rating 4 out of 5]

A slow atmospheric romance with the understory of twin horrors; post First World War traumas and gothic folktales of a giant chalk face that protects the locals from faceless spectres looking for bodies to take over. I found this hard to put down. All this authors books that I’ve read are hard to look away from!

[Rosemary Standeven · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the third Bridget Collins book I have read – and like the others, it is a full five star read.
There are three main female characters: Phoebe, Kit, Florence. Each of them has been very adversely affected (in Kit’s case, traumatised) by World War I, which has recently ended. But, like most women, they are made to feel that their problems are of little account given the much greater sacrifice of the men.
At the start of the book, Phoebe is a thirteen-year-old girl. She is a very unlikable character, seemingly spiteful and vindictive. But, through the book, you start to understand her actions, and then, finally realise her strength and heroism.
Kit is an artist, who has been in France, making life-like masks for the soldiers whose faces had been badly damaged by the war. She has nightmares about the wounded she met, and can no longer bear to draw or create likenesses of people. She wants peace and quiet. She dresses in men’s clothing, and wants no man in her life.
Florence, on the other hand, desperately wants a child, and (given the times) needs to marry. But, she is old, having spent her youth looking after her mother, now dead. Florence has been taken in by her likewise dead sister’s husband, the local vicar and Phoebe’s father, Dr Manning.
As Phoebe’s teacher points out, there is now a severe dearth of fit, available men:

“‘How many are in this class? Twenty-five? Let’s call it thirty. So, three of you. Three. … It is a fact. No more than three of you in this room will find a husband.’ The girls in the front row shifted uneasily on their chairs. Their faces were sombre now, resenting her for their own confusion. ‘I am not guessing. It is a statistical fact. Only one in ten of the girls at this school will be able to get married. One,’ she repeated, ‘in ten. Nine out of every ten of you will be alone. Will live alone. Die alone.’”

But, it doesn’t mean women/girls should have to accept any man – or even a man at all. All three women have had to rebuff unwanted advances by men, who find it inconceivable that single women should not be grateful for the (sexual) attention paid them.
Kit is clearly lesbian. Florence, and Phoebe are both attracted to her. So, part of the book is a romance.
But, the other major part of the book is horror. Not a blood-fuelled massacre or killer psychopath on the loose, but an ominous creeping dread and fear, that has links to the ancient carved face on the hillside.
The Bone family used to keep the face cleared, and believed that was essential to keep the village safe. However, the Bones are all dead, the face is over-grown and Kit is living in their house. The evil thurlath are now free to inhabit empty vessels – be they human, masks, portraits … – and wreak chaos. Will anyone survive?

“Her own face … But no, it was nother face, because there was nothing – no thought, no humanity – behind it. It was not her. It was not human. It was a parasite, a disease – and how dare it steal her likeness – hers?”

“And it came to her now that it was all mixed up together: the War and the thurlath and the glorious dead, the wounds and the nightmares, the telegrams and the agony and the stupid mourning wreaths on white marble crosses … The faceless ones came, drawn by the horrors; they were hungry for the humanity and the inhumanity, they fed on the wrongness of it all, and multiplied.”

The males in the book are not really developed – at best well-intentioned but misguided, at worst quite odious. However, the women are all fully present, and mature throughout the book.

The writing is superb, and expertly sets the scene – for romance, horror or the peace of village life. For example:

“It was astonishing, Florence thought, how different silences could be: this one was soft, like velvet, the colour of the fire-shadows that fell on the wall. It demanded nothing, it was already as complete as it could be.”

I highly recommend this book.

I received this copy from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own and not influenced by either the author or publisher.

[Clbplym · Rating 4 out of 5]

This story centres around three women in the post-WWI period. Kit is traumatised by her work making masks for soldiers whose faces have been destroyed or damaged by the war. Florence is feeling very empty and living with her dead sister’s husband and his daughter Phoebe. Phoebe is a challenging child and I felt most of my sympathy went to Florence, not to her. In the background of the village is a large face carved into the headland. One family have always tended this but all of them have been wiped out by the war and it is slowly disappearing. As it does so, its role in drawing shadows to it and trapping them is weakening. I felt that the historical part of the novel was very strong with characters who have been affected strongly in different ways by the tragedy of it. I always enjoy a supernatural element in a book but felt that this was a bit of an aside rather than truly central to their decision making. The romance seems believable and I approved of Florence’s choices which seemed very realistic. This is a good novel that is definitely worth reading but not quite as strong as her first two novels for me. Thanks to Netgalley for an ARC.

[Patricia Williams · Rating 2 out of 5]

I have read several of Bridget Collins previous books and enjoyed them but I'm afraid this one just didn't do it for me. I was attracted to it by the idea of the mask painters of WW1 and the ever present gothic element of Collins' novels. However we learn very little about the mask painting and the book is tortuously slow. I was still waiting for it to begin at the 35% mark with hardly a hint of gothic except for hints of the links between the Bone family and the Haltington Face. The aforementioned Bone family are all wiped out in the first few pages by war and illness. The remaining characters have nothing likeable about them. All we have are suggestions of a budding lesbian relationship between a world weary artist and a sheltered virgin and a curious, bored and vindictive teenager. I'm afraid I gave up reading half way through The Naked Light as I couldn't see it going anywhere interesting anytime soon. A shame as I enjoyed the author's previous books.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read an advance copy. All opinions are my own

[Tanya · Rating 3 out of 5]

"They kept themselves safe from the faceless ones. They warded them off. Whereas now... now the faceless ones are not a metaphor at all. Now they are real. Real men, whose faces have been shot or torn or burnt away, by other men ... [loc. 1699]

The setting is (mostly) the Sussex village of Haltington in the aftermath of WW1. Florence Stock has come to live with Dr Manning, her widowed brother-in-law who's the vicar of Haltington, and her teenage niece Phoebe. Kit Clayton, home from Paris after a year or so of creating lifelike tin and enamel masks for facially disfigured men, has moved into the Bone House: not as macabre as it sounds, but the former home of the Bone family, now extinct. 

Mrs Bone's sons all died in the War, and the old woman dies up on the downs, trying to fulfil her familial duty to the Face, which local folklore says protects the village from thurlath -- 'a wandering, hungry thing that resembles a man but is not a man. They are hollow in the sense that they have no soul, and hollow in the sense that they are hungry.' And they crave faces: they steal the appearance of a person. 'You will have noticed that there are no effigies in Haltington Church...' (That's from Dr Manning's self-published work on the mythology and folklore of the area.)

Incidental characters, such as Phoebe's teacher Beatrice, provide context for the plot, and the setting: only one girl in ten will marry, because so many men are dead. Women who worked during wartime are now at loose ends. Florence is excited to see men's shirts hanging on the line at the Bone House -- until she realises that Kit Clayton is a woman.

I've enjoyed Collins' other novels (especially The Binding) but this didn't work as well for me. Though there is a supernatural element, that aspect of the novel doesn't really bloom until the last third of the book. Florence's doomed love, Kit's solitary misery and Phoebe's smiling malice are vividly written but not especially cheering, and the focus remains very much on those three women -- which means that some plot threads, unwitnessed by any of them, are given only cursory resolutions. Some of the secondary characters feel superfluous, too, included only to explain an aspect of the plot. But there's a surprisingly, believably happy ending, and some truly scary moments along the way.

Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the review copy: UK Publication date is 25th September 2025.

The title comes from Eleanor Farjeon's poem Peace, which is quoted at the start of the novel:

Nations! whose ravenous engines must be fed
Endlessly with the father and the son,

My naked light upon your darkness, dread! -
By which ye shall behold what ye have done...

[Karen Barber · Rating 3 out of 5]

War has ended but the impact is evident. For artist Kit she struggles to carry out her job painting masks for soldiers injured in the fighting. For Florence war has taken her sister from her, and now she is living with her brother-in-law and niece in a remote village.
The village of Haltington is like many rural English villages. Above the village is the Haltington Face, chalked into the land and thought to offer protection to those living in the area. The people of the village are superstitious, claiming the face must be preserved in order to keep the villagers safe. Unfortunately, war has taken away the Bone family who have curated the Face over the years and it is abandoned.
The book explores the developing relationship between Kit and Florence. Their interaction always felt rather stilted, and they cannot be open about their feelings. Convention wins out, but not before they are put under pressure by the impact of the supernatural elements circulating the village.
I wanted to rate this one higher - it’s a 3.5 realistically - but I found the supernatural elements to be rather undeveloped. The character of Florence’s niece, Phoebe, felt as if she should have been more pivotal to the story but her behaviour towards Kit later on made little sense. While I liked the relationship between Florence and Kit, it came from nowhere and I find it hard to believe either would have acted in the way they do given what they have shared. For me, elements of the story were interesting but they never really felt as if they combined clearly.
Thanks to NetGalley for giving me the chance to read and review this prior to publication.

[Jo-anne Atkinson · Rating 4 out of 5]

A small village on the South Downs is 'protected' from unnatural forces by a chalk face carved into the hill but as the family who tended this have died due to the aftermath of the First World War, the thurlath are swarming. Artist Kit has moved to Haltington from Paris as her role painting masks for injured servicemen has become too much for her. She begins an affair with with an unmarried woman, aunt to the local clergyman's daughter. So the forces begin to gather and no-one will escape unchanged.
I must admit that Collins' books are about as far down the 'folk horror' route that I will go. Here the supernatural elements are played very quietly and I could enjoy the novel without feeling that these were the key drivers. In essence it is a story about how the War has affected both sexes, the men damaged and the woman left without partners, and how they will survive and move on. In that respect it's a lovely novel with the lesbian affairs written sympathetically and often beautifully.

[Olivia]

This is an unhappy story about unhappy characters, therefore making it a perfect book to study in English class. This is the type of book where you would gradually come to appreciate the characters, themes and nuances through hours of detailed analysis.

Bridget Collins specialises in writing grey, oppressive atmospheres and this was no exception. The pacing was quite slow, and though I didn't find it dull, I wouldn't say I greatly enjoyed the experience of reading the book. However, I thought the writing, plot choices and characters were excellently crafted and would definitely warrant a re-read.

Thank you to NetGalley and HarperFiction for providing a copy of this book for review. All opinions are my own.

[Faye Anne · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Naked Light focuses on three women in a rural area: Spinster Florence, Florence's peculiar niece Phoebe, and artist Kit who has just moved to the village after suffering trauma from her work during the war. There's a supernatural aspect to the book, but I did find that side of the story a bit harder to follow than the author's previous book (which I loved - The Silence Factory). The Naked Light really shone with its messy but nuanced characters. No-one was 'good' or 'bad', and they all made decisions that had me facepalming, but those actions did all make sense for their characters.

Disclaimer: I received an Advance Reader Copy from HarperCollins UK and NetGalley but this is my voluntary and honest review.

[Alannah · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book took me by surprise with its deliciously slow build-up of tension and an ever-present sense of unease. While I initially found most of the characters unlikeable, they gradually became more compelling as the story unfolded. The gothic atmosphere was rich and intriguing, complemented by the author’s poetic language.
The supernatural elements are introduced slowly and become more prominent in the final chapters, serving as a clever metaphor for the psychological scars left by the First World War.
Although I appreciated the tension and the artistry of the writing, I struggled to connect with the main characters or fully grasp their motivations. Still, the book left a lasting impression and I raced through it.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC.

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

A beautifully haunting blend of gothic romance, post WWI grief, and creepy folklore, it is a slow burning but deeply atmospheric book. Set in a rural Sussex village watched over by a mysterious chalk face, Collins weaves together themes of trauma, identity, and healing through the lives of three complex women.
Her elegant prose draws you in gently, before the supernatural undertones and emotional weight truly take hold. Yes, the beginning takes its time but once it gets going, it hooks you. Expect quiet dread, masked faces, forbidden longing, and moments of genuine creepiness. I found myself closing all curtains when it was dark in case the Face could see me!
I do wish we had a bit more about Phoebe, she was genuinely chilling.

Thank you Netgalley & The Borough Press for the arc!

[Carrie Smith · Rating 3 out of 5]

I found all of the characters in this book genuinely quite unlikeable. All of them are miserable which made for a gloomy, depressing atmosphere. I don’t think that detracted from the plot though, which although slow at the start did feel like it was building towards a climax or reckoning.

The sapphic romance felt a little clunky and stereotypical but the emotional and mental struggles of a community coming to terms with the aftermath of war felt realistic.

The magical realism/ folk horror element was by far the most interesting aspect of the story for me, it’s just a shame we had to wait until the last 25% of the book for that to really get going. I also wasn’t ever sure if the magical realism was a poetic metaphor for trauma coping mechanisms, or if the creepy things were actually happening. I don’t think I really understood the conclusion of all that but also find myself struggling to care.

I toyed with whether to include this part in my review but there were some scenes I found unnecessary. The attempted rape of a child at the start that added nothing to the plot, the descriptive oral sex while a character was on their period and then the child trying to seduce an adult woman - I’m not really sure what the author was hoping to achieve. A shock factor maybe, in any case it just made me want to get the story over with a quickly as possible.

[Laura · Rating 3 out of 5]

It didn't grab and grip me as much as I thought it would. Maybe my expectations were too high. It was a real slow burner. I found it to be more focused on romance and the prejudices of the time rather than the supernatural elements. There were a few creepy chapters later in the book that were great, but it still felt lacking. I didn't particularly connect to any of the characters and felt the ending with Phoebe and the face was quite predictable.

It still had a great gothic atmosphere - I just wish there had been MORE of the folklore and supernatural.

[Charlotte · Rating 4 out of 5]

The village of Haltington is watched over by a face etched on chalk known as the Face. The Bone family have tended to the Face for generations but now that the Great War has taken the lives of so many the face is overgrown and neglected. When new comer Kit arrives and rents the Bone Family cottage she becomes drawn to it but does the Face have something darker in mind.

This was a bewitching and compelling read and I was gripped from the start until the very end of the novel; 3.5 stars.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for a copy of the novel in exchange for an honest review.

[Anne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Delightfully weird.
I find it hard to describe Bridget Collins' books and find it best to go into them without spoilers, and this one is no different.
It involves an ancient chalk hillside carving, ancient folklore, the aftermath of WWI, a lesbian artist and a creepy insular village atmosphere.

Thank you to Netgalley, the author and the publisher for a free copy in exchange for an honest review

[Sian · Rating 1 out of 5]

DNF. A story of women’s lives after World War 1, a strange mix; combining the trauma of war with myth and hints of the supernatural. I have enjoyed this author’s previous book so excused a rather dull start, thinking that this was a slow burn that would suddenly engage me. By page 200 I had completely lost interest and gave up.

[Laurena · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars
Slow to start but this gothic drama / romance is well worth a read. Atmospheric with the horror of war, sinister apparitions, and the expectations of women and men and their need for connection.

[Leon Flynn · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was unsure when I started this if I was going to enjoy it. But boy did I enjoy it.
Beautifully written, creepy, gothic romantic setting.
Bridget Collins is most definitely one of the greatest authors I read. Highly recommended.

[Jayne Southern · Rating 3 out of 5]

he promise not quite delivered. Not enough about the work and masks made for men disfigured in WWI, slow progression despite the intriguing characters, The Gothic chill arrived late in the telling and did not compensate for the lack of tension or conflict earlier. It was all rather too cosy, despite the wonderful writing. The writing kept me turning the pages but I found the storyline somewhat disappointing.

[susan smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

Took myself about 25/30% of the way through the nakedight , but after this throughly enjoyed it.fk horror, with First World War, a love story. 🥰