The Mercy Step

by Marcia Hutchinson

Bradford, December 1962.

A precocious Mercy makes her reluctant entrance into the world, torn from the warm embrace of her mother’s womb, to a chaotic household that seems to have no place for her. Her siblings do not understand her, her mother’s attention is given to the Church, and the entire family lives at the whims of her father’s quick temper.

Left to herself, Mercy finds solace in books, her imagination, and the quiet comfort of her faithful toy, Dolly. But escapism has its limits, and as the grip of family, faith and fear threatens to close in, Mercy learns she must act if she wants a different future; one where she is seen, heard, and her family set free.

The Mercy Step is a sharply-witted and tender portrait of a young girl’s quiet rebellion, and her refusal to be broken.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Literary Fiction, Audiobook, Coming Of Age, Historical, Book Club

Audible Audio

First published July 22, 2025

About the author

Novelist, former lawyer and fitness instructor.

Reviews

[BookOfCinz Reading Retreat Host · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sharp, witty, fresh, powerful and un-put-down-able!

The Mery Step opens with the birth of Mercy, we are taken into her inner world from birth until she is a teenager. After birth, she it taken to a very chaotic home in London, she is her parents fifth child and yes, they end up having two more. This is during the Windrush era in London, and Mercy is trying to understand the world she is thrust into. She loves to read and has a lot of questions she has to get answers to! However, her parents are overworked, tired, and unprepared for being parents to so many children.

Mercy is very close to her mother, and witnesses firsthand the abuse from her father. She tries to understand “Big People Business” but feels left out.

I LOVED THIS BOOK!!!! I cannot remember the last time I felt so enamored by a character! I laughed; I cried and cheered for Mercy!
Please read this brilliant book!

[Flo · Rating 4 out of 5]

My personal ranking of Women's Prize for Fiction 2026 shortlist :

1. Heart the lover
2. Flashlight
3. The Mercy step
4. The correspondent
5. Kingfisher
6. Dominion

Marcia Hutchinson strikes a balance by making her protagonist a smart girl who both understands and does not understand the complicated world in which she is growing up. Because that's the truth: children understand more than adults want to believe, especially when it comes to abusive relationships between their parents. And what they don't understand, they learn. When they learn, they must decide whether to ignore the flaws of the adults around them or choose a different path for their future. A great read.

[Emma Alvey · Rating 5 out of 5]

Powerful, heart-wrenching, tender and witty, The Mercy Step is an outstanding tear-jerker of a novel.

Bradford, December 1962. It’s a freezing, snowy Winter’s day when Mercy makes her dramatic entrance into the world; leaving the calm solace of her mother’s womb for life with a large, chaotic family where she never feels like she fits in. As the thread that binds mother and daughter stretches ever thinner, Mercy struggles to be seen and heard in a house where her siblings don’t understand her, her mother is wrapped up in the church, and they all live in fear of her father’s violent outbursts. Searching for belonging, Mercy eventually discovers the magical escape of books. She finds solace in their pages, in her vivid imagination and conversations with her toy, Dolly. But books and imagination can only take you so far, and as life at home becomes increasingly dangerous, Mercy realises she must make a stand and finally make herself heard to give herself the chance of a better future.

Marcia Hutchinson has been named one of the best new novelists for 2025 by The Observer, and after reading this book I understand why. With this magnificent debut Hutchinson has proven herself to be a born storyteller, writing with wit, wisdom, humanity and heart. Acutely observed, authentic and uncompromising, it is a story that feels achingly raw, righteously angry, deeply human and evokes every emotion. IThis layered story explores themes such as toxic family, poverty, domestic abuse, racism, loss and immigration. And while it is one young girl’s story, it is also a story about the realities of life as a Black person in northern England in the 60s and 70s.

Precocious, feisty, bold and determined, Mercy is an unforgettable heroine. It is impossible not to love her and she has a permanent place in my heart. Her love of literature and learning made me feel connected to her and I smiled as she found an escape in books and her imagination. She and the other characters are richly drawn and real, making you care about them and feel invested in their lives. Mercy’s family is dysfunctional and toxic, her abusive father a constant malevolent presence and Mercy doesn’t understand why her mother stays with such a monster. Mummy is Mercy’s balm but she’s also a worry and Mercy feels like it is her job to look after Mummy, though she aches for a mother who looks after her needs instead. So many times I wanted to reach into this book and hold this young girl. Although her mother seems to try to do her best, Mercy deserved so much better I desperately wanted to save her.

A magnificent debut full of drama, humour, headache and hope, Mercy and her story will linger long after you close the final page. Unmissable.

[Onemorebook Podcast · Rating 5 out of 5]

Nobody writes a coming of age story like a Caribbean author!!! And this one proved why I am often intrigued by such books. I love the way in which authors use child narrators to explore heavy societal themes by blending an autobiographical element with lyrical prose & a somewhat psychological depth.

This books is set in 1960's Bradford where we meet Mercy, a young child trying to exist in a world that is far too big for her small body. Mercy in an authentic & unflinching voice tells us of her extremely close (almost obsessive) attachment that she has to her mother who she unfortunately has to share not only with her father & siblings but also with the church. This obsession starts even before she is born as we meet her while still in her mother’s womb, a safe space that she is angry to have been pushed out of (the description of her birth story is excellent).

What drew me to Mercy the most was her introspective, confessional tone that felt both personal but also universal. She was not only speaking for herself, but for me, for many of us. In her or through her words, readers are able to relate to her because she is able to express her anger, longing & rebellion, emotions that many of us are neither able nor allowed to show or express.

There are so many important themes that are addressed & critiqued in this book; Patriarchy & the tentacles that it has on our lives, self abandonment within relationships, gender inequality, DV, Racism, Christianity, community, Sexual violence, religious psychosis, education, books, libraries, access to 3rd spaces, class systems, mental health struggles, grief, loss, poverty; all this encompassed with life in the diaspora.

Despite all the above named themes that are heavy, I still found myself laughing while reading this book. In my language we say 'Lak chogo' which loosely translates to 'finding strength and hope amidst adversity’ which I believe the author phrases as 'If you don’t laugh you will cry' (don’t quote me on that because I listened to the audiobook). This book reminded me that life persists and offers joy even after sorrow, despite pain life continues….this was an absolute joy to read!

[Gumble's Yard - Golden Reviewer · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pace yourself, I say to my legs, you ve got a long way to go. I will keep on running, not running away but running towards, towards a future that I construct for myself, with my own bare hands. One day, Mummy will be proud of me the way Daddy never could be. He could only see a wiley child with a brain that could outwit him but not out-hit him. Maybe one day, Mummy will come to see a clever daughter as a blessing not a curse.
But in the end, it doesn't really matter. In the end, I'm on my own. Were all on our own, coming into this life kicking and screaming, ready to write a letter to the Times about the indignity of it all, the blood and the guts, the squeezing and the pain. I can write now; I can walk and talk and I can tell my own story.

 
Shortlisted for the Women’s Prize for Fiction
 
This book also featured in the 2025 version of the influential and frequently literary-prize-prescient annual Observer Best Debut Novelist feature – one of two books (the other Wendy Erskine’s “Benefactors”) to make the Women’s Prize longlist.
 
And a novel made more fascinating by the author’s hinterland and her (related) links to the Guardian (which owned the Observer at the time of the feature).
 
The author – over 60 when this novel was published by the excellent small press Cassava Republic after more than 50 rejections – has an MBE awarded in 2010 for services to cultural diversity relating to her founding and long time running of an influential multicultural educational publishing and training company.  She was also elected as a Labour Councillor in 2021 having campaigned for a number of years about the under-representation of Black Councillors in the Northern Labour Parry – but quit disillusioned with the whipping system (and her belief it lead to racist bullying) after only 6 months.  Now she works as a writer and evening fitness instructor.
 
In 2022 she featured in the Guardian’s “Dining Across the Divide” feature – which brings together people with very different political views (which of course for Guardianista’s often rather comically means different factions of the left – here an interesting discussion around immigration but between two lifelong Labour voters: https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandst...).  But perhaps more poignantly and pertinently in 2014 she took part in a feature about “the letter you always wanted to write” penning a latter to her deceased alcoholic and violent father (https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandst...) large parts of which have made it into this novel which is a lightly fictionalised account of her childhood (born in 1962 to Windrush Generation parents who had her and four other children in a deprived area of Bradford, after having left four older siblings in Jamaica) – and which takes place chronologically over the period from (crucially) immediately before her birth to her eleventh birthday and deals with some difficult topics of both paternal violence but also abuse (enabled and covered up, if not sanctioned, both by family and church community ties).
 
What is immediately striking about the present tense very-close-third-party narrative of the protagonist Mercy is its voice – the author has written; “Asking me how I approach writing such complex and dark subjects from a child’s perspective is very difficult because I don’t think I ever did look at it from a child’s perspective. I feel as if I am an old soul, an adult born in the body of a child and trying to make the world around me see sense. That is Mercy’s dilemma – she knows that what is going on around her is not right but she doesn’t have the power to do anything about it.”
 
And from the opening chapter this seems very effective with the newly born horrified at her expulsion from the womb (and umbilical and close personal relationship with her mother) and contemplating writing to the Times to complain, or in her very first days (suffering potentially terminal pneumonia in a hospital where she eventually spends months recovering) talking of Mozart.  And also seems like a fascinating way for an adult to write back into their childhood.
 
However, I don’t think the voice quite works – or perhaps more to the point is done consistently. This very second chapter is entitled “New Monya” (a phrase used throughout the novel) even though we also have already had alveoli (perfectly spelt and understood).  Later we have (and again this continues for some time) Tee Vee – but in a passage which tells us said device “starts commanding the room like a Dalek”, or “Annie’s Thetic” immediately after “she can see the bright red pumping with her heartbeat”.  I was reminder of another widely lauded voice novel – Henry Hoke’s “Open Throat” which had similar issues.
 
The novel has a lot of period colour – and being born in England less than 6 years later much of it was relatable – however here also I struggled a little with things that did not make sense to me . At one stage in 1971 Mercy and her family listen to Enoch Powell’s 1968 River Of Blood speech (which could be a repeat although portrayed as contemporary) and more oddly watch the 1973 Cup Final. She and her sisters also use “the workers united, will never be defeated” chant the same year which I think is several years too early, and the next year watches Why Don’t You (Switch of the Television and Go and Do Something Less Boring Instead) at least a year before its first ever episode.  
 
And I felt these seeming linguistic and temporal anomalies more I think because they kept taking me out of what I think is otherwise an impressive narrative.
 
Because there is some outstanding writing: there is an extended (pun intended) metaphor of the aforementioned umbilical cord which extends both over time and distance – with Mercy only finally severing it and with it her special link to her mother after her father’s death when she cannot come to terms with her mother’s mourning for a man who has long since left the family (and was abusive when in it); and some powerful scenes many of which are captured in that Guardian letter and which include Mercy choosing to go straight back to school to take her 11-Plus the same day she is sent home to be told of her father’s death (which she greets with a “is that all”, as well as a terrible scene when Mercy’s determined presence stops her father from killing her Psalm-23-chanting mother with a machete); and also some really excellent and moving writing when at the times of greatest trauma (including some distressing scenes of sexual abuse by a cousin and a pastor) Mercy disassociates from her physical body – looking down on it just as the author is looking back auto-fictionally on her own childhood.

[Darryl Suite · Rating 3 out of 5]

A hit and miss. Hooked me at the beginning, but then it tired me out. The voice was all over the place. I liked that there was a bit of a fantastical element by having the child narrator be all-knowing and knowledgeable to a degree that would be impossible for someone her age, but then it would annoy me how she couldn’t understand the most basic things. I’m sure this is done on purpose, but I found it grating.

I do look forward to this author’s next work because the talent is there. So yeah, there’s stuff to like in this one, but it also had choices that didn’t work for me.

[Tania · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 rounded up to 5 stars. I had no idea what this book was about when I started it, but I was completely hooked from the very first page. I absolutely loved that this unforgettable coming-of-age story begins while Mercy is still in her mother’s womb — such an original way to introduce her voice. The author does an astonishing job of making Mercy observant, intelligent, vulnerable, funny, and heartbreakingly real, while still keeping her voice completely childlike and authentic. That perspective gives the story so much emotional depth.

Although the book explores some very heavy themes, it never feels overwhelmingly bleak because it’s filled with tenderness, humour, and heart. The fact that Mercy’s parents are Jamaican immigrants also gives the story a rich and distinctive flavour that really added to my enjoyment. I absolutely loved seeing the world through Mercy’s eyes, and I genuinely think Marcia Hutchinson deserves to win the Best Debut Novel award this year.

[Bonnie G.]

Didn't read enough to rate. Very well-written domestic-violence trauma recount from the perspective of a precocious child of a very fertile earth-mother with no real hope (this was the 60s, and birth control was hard to come by) and an abusive asshole father. This is clearly more of a memoir than a novel. Just not the book for me. Note: The author reads this audiobook, and she is a great reader.

[Heather Lawrence · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful book that has left my brain firing and my soul contented.
I am a woman of Jamaican heritage and am grateful for this book being written.
At times stomach bubbling sickening, but feel the warmth of my people as well...but mostly hopeful and funny.
Marcia has been able to capture the fantasy and nonchalant painful realities of a young girl growing up in the North of England, not of this world but viewed as one of it, with funny 'wordisms' and emotions I relate to.
Read it knowing we are all the creators of our own worlds x

[Rita Egan · Rating 3 out of 5]

2026 Women's Prize for Fiction Shortlist 6/6

This book is written in a voice that sometimes feels fresh and innovative early on, but I soon grew irritated by the constraint. As a coming of age story it ticks all the boxes for readers who relate to finding solace from a chaotic childhood in bookish ways. I like the backdrop of the Windrush generation, and the exploration of political and social issues pertaining to their difficult assimilation into the monoculture that was England of that time.

I'm not convinced this should be on the shortlist for the Women's Prize.

[Nicola · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book has one of the most striking beginnings to a story I have ever read.

This coming-of-age story set in Bradford 1960s, starts with the protagonist narrating her own birth from her mother’s womb. There was such beauty in hearing the thoughts of a child who is yet to enter the world, and this narrative was refreshing and impressive and actually transported me to the cramped and confined conditions of the womb. There was some satire in this opening, and from this, I knew I was going to love the author’s writing.

Mercy is a young girl living with her parents and siblings in a chaotic family home with a concerning dynamic. Mercy is loveable, she is a rebellious, but respectful, and is a character to root for, especially as she finds solace in her education, reading and school.

I can’t express how much I loved this writing, the book is filled with heavy themes, but the writing is so delicate, that these themes did not feel overwhelming. I thoroughly enjoyed the dialogue in this story, especially from Mercy’s Jamaican parents which did make me giggle.

There were two poignant moments towards the end of the story that I resonated with and made me cheer out loud for Mercy. She really had a fighting and confident spirit.

[Trish · Rating 4 out of 5]

I listened to this in audio, read by Marcia Hutchinson herself, and there is something about hearing a story like this in the author’s own voice that makes it land differently.

The novel moves through some very dark terrain, but it does so entirely through Mercy, a young girl whose understanding of the world is still forming.
She doesn’t name what’s happening around her in adult terms.
Instead, she organizes herself around loyalty, around protecting her mother, around holding things together in the only way she knows how.

That perspective gives the book its power.
You’re inside the experience of a child who believes she is doing what is right, what is necessary, what is loving.

I also found myself so moved by the way Mercy relates to books and the library.
She imagines the librarian as the ‘mother of the books’, and something about that just touched me.
It’s such a small detail, but it reveals so much about how she understands care, safety, and belonging.
The library becomes a kind of refuge, a place where things are held and tended to in a way her world often isn’t.
I had the exact same thought as a little girl, which made this feel even more personal. That quiet knowing that books are alive in some way, and that someone must be caring for them.

I also loved where the book lands. There’s a quiet shift in Mercy by the end…an awareness that she can begin to form her own beliefs, separate from her mother, and be okay doing that. It comes in a subtle, almost internal way, but it felt significant.
Especially for a child who has been so deeply loyal, so oriented around protecting someone else.
There’s a sense that she can still love her mother and, at the same time, begin to belong to herself. There’s something here about devotion, about the roles we take on too early, and the quiet cost of that kind of love.

This absolutely deserves its place on the 2026 Women’s Prize longlist.
I can see exactly why it’s there.
Honestly, I am loving this entire longlist right now.

[Kate · Rating 5 out of 5]

THE MERCY STEP is a stellar debut novel and my favourite of the Women's Prize longlist so far. Set in 1960s and 70s England, the story follows Mercy, a young child of Jamaican immigrants to Britain who is a baby when the novel begins. We follow Mercy from birth util about age twelve and see her navigate some difficult issues, including sexual assault and an abusive father. Perhaps what makes this book stand out from the rest is Marcia Hutchinson's writing. She has a beautifully poetic voice, but she also believably tells the story from Mercy's perspective and we see her gain understanding and maturity gradually as the story unfolds. If this is her debut novel, who knows what great things the future holds for Marcia Hutchinson? Highly recommended!

[Heather Robinson · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'd give it 6 stars if I could. The best book in a long time.
Gorgeous writing and incredible imagery. After finishing it I went back and started again immediately.
The prologue is something else.

[Joy D · Rating 4 out of 5]

Set in Bradford, England, Mercy is the daughter of Windrush-generation Jamaican immigrants. Born in 1962, the story follows her through the first twelve years of her life. She and her siblings endure domestic violence from their volatile father, and Mercy retreats into a world of books. The storyline involves the Caribbean diaspora in Britain, social history, and class discrimination.

The novel contains serious themes but also humor. The primary drawback is that it is narrated from the viewpoint of a young child, and a young voice is difficult to maintain over an entire book, especially when the author has such a gift for flowing, beautiful language. As a warning, there is a good amount of difficult content here, including sexual assault and child abuse, so it's a heavy read despite the wit. It’s worth reading for the writing alone and I look forward to seeing where Hutchinson goes next.

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

*Thank you to the Women’s Prize for sending me a copy of this book!*

Oh, Mercy. What an absolutely heartwarming protagonist we had here. Such a memorable and strong voice in protagonists feels so rare these days, but Mercy was full of such curiosity and wiseness beyond her years. I absolutely adored listening to her internal monologue, and found I couldn’t get enough of her story. I was rooting for her so incredibly hard, she deserved nothing but greatness.

Though Mercy was an absolute ray of sunshine, the backdrop and set up for this story was actually extremely bleak and difficult to read. I think that only made me soften to her more, because she was so resilient and thoughtful and bright despite it all. This book did an absolutely incredible job of capturing and exploring domesticity and coming of age in a very turbulent home, and the resultant anxiety and uncertainty that can manifest as you grow up trying to navigate these tense dynamics and keep the peace. There was a childlike ignorance and lightness to it, which contrasted so heartbreakingly with the dull and severe reality of the events taking place.

The character development we get to witness here was absolutely incredible. It’s such a talent to be able to write such distinct personalities. I also loved how the theme of religion was a constant overhang on the book, and how it shadowed everything the characters believed and acted upon. It was also really interesting to see the way that was bleeding into the typical patriarchal standards and marriage dynamics that Mercy was often witness to, but didn’t always have the words or perspective to understand. Just so carefully crafted and thorough, it takes real talent to do something so complex and touching with such small page length.

If this doesn’t win the Women’s Prize this year, I’ll be in disbelief. It was amazing.

[Alice · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loveeed it, reminded me of Betty and Matilda and I loved how clever and funny and poetic it was yey

[Tini · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fierce, tender coming-of-age story.

Set in 1960s Bradford, England, The Mercy Step follows Mercy, a precocious and sharp-eyed young girl growing up in a household defined by chaos, domestic violence, instability, fear, and emotional neglect. The child of Caribbean immigrants with a volatile father, a mother pulled in too many directions, and a home that rarely feels safe, Mercy learns early on to retreat into books, imagination, and her own inner strength. But as she grows, so does her awareness that survival alone may not be enough - she wants something more. Something better. Following her on that journey is, simply put, a delight.

With this debut, Marcia Hutchinson more than earns her place among notable new voices. The novel is layered and emotionally rich, exploring toxic family dynamics, poverty, abuse, racism, and the realities of growing up Black in northern England in the 1960s and 70s with both wit and unflinching honesty.

At the heart of it all is Mercy herself: smart, bold, observant, stubborn, and deeply vulnerable. Her love of books and learning becomes both refuge and resistance, and those quieter moments where she disappears into stories or lets her imagination take over offer brief but meaningful reprieves from the harshness of her reality. It's impossible not to root for her, and she is the kind of character who will stay with you.

Mercy's family dynamics are rendered with painful authenticity. Her father looms large as a constant, threatening presence, while her relationship with her mother is far more complex - tender in moments, but also marked by absence, dependence, and the quiet burden Mercy carries far too young. That tension between love and disappointment, protection and neglect feels especially well observed.

Despite the weight of its themes, the novel never loses sight of humanity. Humor, resilience, and hope are woven throughout, preventing the story from becoming unrelentingly bleak.

The audiobook, narrated by the author herself, is a particular highlight. Marcia Hutchinson's performance adds an extra layer of intimacy and authenticity, as though the story is being told exactly as it was meant to be heard. It's a powerful choice that deepens the emotional impact and brings Mercy's voice into even sharper focus.

Unflinching, compassionate, and deeply affecting, The Mercy Step is a remarkable debut that leaves a lasting impression. Its place on the 2026 Women's Prize Longlist feels entirely deserved.

[Darina]

I always get annoyed when toddlers or young kids are portrayed with an adult voice. Mercy is 2 years old and already has the ability to analyze and interpret her emotions and those of her parents. Please don’t.

[Jim Bobs · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed this book a lot and found it both motivating and inspiring, at times harrowing and frequently heart rendering. It was very relatable and at the same time a window into growing up as part of the Windrush generation in the at times inhospitable, at (fewer) times embracing wilds of West Yorkshire. At times I felt the characters ended up as caricature, almost cartoon, and for me this was slightly grating at times, hence the 4* rating.

[Corina Sandu · Rating 4 out of 5]

I need a sequel because what do you mean this is where we stop? I’m obsessed with Mercy now. Give me her teenage years, her twenties, her bad decisions, her growth. I want the full life story, thank you very much

This is a very character-driven coming-of-age story, which means it moves slowly at times. If you’re here for action or plot twists, this is probably not your book.

I will die on this hill: it is extremely difficult for an adult writer to create an authentic child or teenage voice. But Mercy sneaks up on you.

At first, when she was a baby, I was so aware that she was an unreliable narrator. Even so, seeing the world through a child’s eyes was fascinating to read. The way she makes connections, perceives the family dynamic, her abusive father, the way her mother deals with the abuse… she made me feel all feelings.

There are some very hard themes in this book: child abuse, domestic violence, gender inequality, racism, religion, diaspora, all kinds of trauma. At times, it’s heartbreaking.

And yet, I still found myself laughing. Mercy’s inner voice is absolutely priceless and made this book such a joy to read. Despite everything life throws at her, she still finds joy. She is resilient. She gave me hope.

I can’t even pinpoint the exact moment I moved from observing Mercy to caring deeply about her, but by the end, I wanted more.

This is the third Women’s Prize nominee I’ve read and this one might actually give The Correspondent a run for its money. Curios to see if I still feel this way after I finish Flashlight.

L.E: We're getting a sequel of this (insert squeal here). Just listened to Jack Edwards interviewing Marcia for Inklings Book Club Podcast and I am jumping up and down in my house like a crazy woman🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

[Ellen · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.75 ⭐️

“She’s had enough of holding herself back just to keep other people happy.”

[Line Magnus · Rating 5 out of 5]

Do you know that feeling when you finish a book, and all you can do for several minutes afterward is hug it to your chest and stare into space? That's how I know I've found a new favorite book, and that's what happened after I finished The Mercy Step. I picked it up initially because it was longlisted for the Women's Prize for Fiction, and this slim slice-of-life novel about Mercy, an Afro-Caribbean girl growing up in Bradford, absolutely stole my heart. Mercy is an unforgettable character with a strong, clear voice, and I rooted for her all the way as we watch her grow up, fighting to save her mother and herself from her abusive father. In spite of the heavy themes, the tone of the novel is not dark, but sharp and witty and often very funny. I already know I will be rereading this book over and over for the rest of my life. Don't sleep on this little small-press gem!

[leah · Rating 3 out of 5]

this book was a grower in that the more i read it, the more i liked it. i related to mercy as a middle child who found solace in books and loved going to the library as a kid (à la matilda). however, there are a lot of coming of age books / bildungsromans in that same vein, so i’m not sure this is doing anything particularly new.

[Rachel · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book! Mercy is born to immigrant parents from Jamaica in 1962 Bradford. She’s the middle child of 5 currently living with her parents Odette and Sonny (although four older siblings were left behind in Jamaica). Living conditions are cramped, money is tight and her father is abusive towards his wife and their children. Mercy is such a vibrant character, she leaps off the page and into your heart. She feels like she doesn’t fit within her family – she’s clever, funny and loves books and learning. The book teems with humour and this is perfectly balanced with the difficulty of her family situation to create story that is simultaneously warm and painful. This book transported to me a time and place unknown to me and did a brilliant job of pulling me into that world, keeping me there for the duration of the book and leaving me wanting more. I’d love a sequel and to continue along with Mercy’s journey through life.

[Elaine · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow! This book is a stunner. From the very first page, this story of a gifted Jamaican-British girl growing up in Bradford in the 60s and 70s had me hooked. Such an original voice - getting us into the head of a newborn and making us one with her through the cusp of adolescence.

Mercy has an abusive father and a mother who fails her in some crucial ways, she’s subject to sexual abuse and racism and yet this is a very hopeful book. It’s vivid and visceral, but also fizzing with the energy of childhood.

I listened to the audiobook, which is read by the author and it’s just wonderful. I think it’s so exciting to read a debut novel by a 60 something (see what I mean about hopeful!) and I would gladly read the sequel of what happens next in Mercy’s life.

[ritareadthat · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great premise. A bit tedious though with some of the story feeling repetitive over the years she is growing up. I wanted more, but more what, I don't know.

[amy williams · Rating 4.5 out of 5]

loved loved loved! a wonderful book, and mercy's voice is just unforgettable! i'll be very happy if this one wins the women's prize!

[Helen_t_reads · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.75 stars

Set in 1960s Bradford, The Mercy Step follows Mercy's story from just before her birth until she is 11 years old.

She lives with her 4 siblings and her Windrush-generation parents in a crowded household where her mother's attention is stretched between church, family and work at the hospital. Her father's temper is something to be endured or avoided. He is violent, emotionally unavailable, and often just plain absent.

Feeling like an outsider within her own home, Mercy retreats into books and the companionship of her beloved doll, Dolly, while learning early how to navigate the flaws and failings of the adults around her.

Armed with humour, style and a strong imagination, she quietly begins to plot her escape from a traumatic childhood.

What an absolutely stunning novel this is. Mercy's story will break and mend you, make you weep, and make you laugh, fill you with despair and anxiety, and leave you cheering her on at the end, filled with hope. I just wanted to climb into the pages of this novel, scoop her up, and give her all the love, attention, safety, and happiness that she deserved and craved.

Her voice, as narrator of her own history, is unforgettable, immediate and affecting. She's precocious, wise beyond her years, gifted, fiercely intelligent, and yet touchingly naive and innocent.

Mercy's story is one of Black British culture, childhood, family and survival in 1960s Britain. She presents us with a child's eye view of racism; sexism; emotional, sexual and physical abuse; poverty; discrimination; family tensions and stresses; institutional and societal inadequacy.

The things she sees, experiences, and endures in her childhood years are testimony to her resilience and will to survive. These events are revealed in short, pithy chapters which almost read like self contained stories in themselves, but they accumulate to present a picture of a young girl refusing to bend and break.

Mercy comes to understand that she can't rely on, or blindly trust her mother, and that she needs to choose the world of the mind over her mother's world of the spirit and of God. That it's up to Mercy to save Mercy.

This is a young girl's quiet rebellion against her upbringing, as she takes responsibility into her own hands, and stands up for herself and what she believes in.

This novel is brutal, raw, deeply affecting, and completely magnificent. You become completely and utterly invested in Mercy's compelling story, with its beautifully written prose, a sharp eye and ear for detail, and a main character who is drawn with immense tenderness and sympathy.

This is a tremendous read, and Mercy can proudly take her place, shoulder to shoulder, with other remarkable child narrators in books like Kit de Waal's My Name is Leon; Emma Donoghue's Room; and Amanda Berriman's Home.

[Andre(Read-A-Lot) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quite a cagey way to construct a “novel.” This book is more accurately defined; by the author’s own admission as auto-fiction. I’m quite sure I’ve read a book where the narration begins in the womb, a not-yet-born Mercy describes her atmosphere, “It’s squid-ink black, warm and quiet. All the outside sounds are muffled. Sunlight shines orange, almost red, dimly filtered under the soft, heavy, crimson blanket. I’m playing my game, counting my fingers and toes, marvelling at how they work, flesh, bone and blood, see-through fingernails peeping out into the world.”

From that prologue, we move from first person Mercy to third person Mercy as she narrates her coming of age story. It is quite inventive to engage with adult themes through the eyes of a child. Especially one who is uniquely tethered to her mother, in such a way that she can telepathically( for lack of a better adjective) manipulate and influence her Mother’s behavior. Mercy is quite the precocious child, and the longer you read the more endearing her character becomes.

Mercy’s relationship with her parents is somewhat fraught with trauma, due to her parents constant bickering and her Father being unable to express love and affectionate sight for Mercy. Mercy’s mother is only slightly better and as Mercy figures, it could be due to Mother having to spread her love among five children and a husband. The greatest thing about this “ novel” is its cleverness. A very good read. Thank you to Grove press and Edelweiss for an advanced DRC. This version will publish March 9, 2027