Mantle

by Romy Ash

‘A generous work, by a glorious young writer.’— The Australian, ‘the big books of 2026’ Nature has another evolution in store for us I think about how the earth likes to cough things up. Bones, fossils, slivers of rock, like an interior self. How it likes to spew gas, lava, smoke. How the earth under our feet is anything but solid. How in fact, the surface itself is constantly in movement, teeming. And inside, inside, in the mantle, we can only guess.Ursula is a self-possessed geologist. In her life on the mainland, she’s a guardian of the timescale, dividing history into segments and reading the Earth’s depths. It sounds like science fiction, but it’s simply science.When her ailing mother is struck with a mystery illness she is called to the coastline of lutruwita/Tasmania. What begins as an incurable rash evolves into something more dangerous.With the sickness spreading across the island, and beyond, Ursula finds herself stranded, stuck in her mother’s house and increasingly entangled with a younger man who she met at the pub. She is grieving, beginning to unhinge – and now she too has the rash.  The wild places of the island are solace, even as the world around her begins to shift. As she faces this eruption of new life, and grapples with death and decay, Ursula realises that this change may not signal an end, but a beginning. Deeply moving and utterly original, Mantle is a powerful novel that shows us our fate is intertwined with the people around us, and the fate of our world.PRAISE FOR MANTLE ‘Romy Ash’s Mantle is an exquisite novel. She gives voice to a remarkable and authentic cast of characters, writing with originality and dare. A wonderful book.’ – Tony Birch, author of Women and Children‘Mantle is one of the best novels I’ve ever read, and Ash is one of the country’s finest writers. The novel just grows around you and won’t let go … This is a book of heart, of grief and of facing end times head on. Only Romy Ash has the sheer talent to tell such a tale.’ – Laura Jean McKay, author of The Animals in That Country ‘Mantle is evocative, funny, weird and gorgeous. This story will stay with you, linger on the skin and in the heart. A long-awaited class act from Ash.’ – Anna Krien, author of Act of Grace‘Mantle is a ferocious hymn of love and grief and desire – one that howls for the planet. This novel will thread its way under your skin and wrap its tendrils around your heart. Dazzling.’ – Kate Mildenhall, author of The Hiding Place

Genres: Fiction, Literary Fiction, Australia, Book Club, Science Fiction, Medical

247 pages, Kindle Edition

Published April 28, 2026

About the author

Romy Ash graduated from the Queensland University of Technology in 2001 and went on to become editor of Syntax Magazine.Her (research) Masters was awarded by the University of Melbourne (School of Culture and Communication) in 2009 for 'Dead Drunk', a thesis examining the representation of the drunk in Australian fiction.

Reviews

[Rebecca]

“I think about how the earth likes to cough things up.” “How the earth under our feet is anything but solid.”

I went into Mantle thinking I was getting a moody, literary coastal novel… and instead I got body horror, climate grief, existential dread, and a slow, creeping sense that the earth itself is watching you and I loved that for me.

This book feels like it’s alive. Like it’s breathing. Everything is damp, shifting, a little bit wrong in a way you can’t quite name. There’s a rash spreading, yes, but it’s not just on skin. It’s in the atmosphere, the relationships, the land itself. You can feel it crawling.

Ursula is grieving, stuck, unravelling (relatable), and the whole time lutruwita/Tasmania feels less like a setting and more like an entity quietly closing in. The writing is lush but sharp, a beautiful sentence and then suddenly you’re uncomfortable and don’t know why.

It’s one of those books where not much “happens” in a traditional sense, but everything is happening internally, physically, existentially. Blink and you’ll miss the shift, but by the end you’re like… hang on, when did everything change?

This absolutely lingers. On the skin. In the brain. In that slightly nauseous “I need to sit with this” kind of way.

If you like your fiction a bit eerie, a bit poetic, and a bit “is this about to consume me?” this is for you.

I Highly Recommend.

Thank you Ultimo Press for my advanced readers copy.

Available Now!

[Suz]

How good is it to see the beautiful island state of lutruwita/Tasmania the topic of so many fiction books lately? A relative has moved there in the last couple of years and unless it’s that I’m noticing this because of that, I’m really enjoying the many fictional views of this amazing place. Our Aussie talent highlights this unique land continually well.

Normally I wouldn’t embrace this sci fi/realisim/cross genre feel, I was fascinated by the intriguing rash sickness that has overtaken the area. Folk don’t seem scared, they’re accepting in a way. Ursula’s field of geology ties in almost whimsically, her knowledge of the earth’s make up seem to join her to her ocean.

The spreading contagion ties Ursula to the grief of losing her mother while she entangles herself with a man, their declining health and the declining state of the environment. This book is not a straight forward one, lacking clear delineation of what should be, rather an atypical narrative as lots is left unsaid. The protagonist has an edge of the unhinged while ploughing head first into this strange disease. Some outcomes are unusually provocative and confrontational.

Taking a look at the author’s back list, the title Floundering fits her style. Descriptions of nature, the ocean and the illness are lyrical and thought provoking.

Thank you to Ultimo for my #gifted copy. Always crazily diverse!

[Marika Cook]

Like the physical metamorphosis of its main character, Mantle started as something and became something else entirely. It almost genre-hopped? Trying to work out where to file this to put Mantle in was like trying to make out a strange shell in a rockpool where the wind is breaking the surface - you know it's interesting but can't quite make out the details. And then you glimpse something that really, really shouldn't be there and you wonder if it's a shell at all.

The author has done something special here. The imagery was so rich in this that I found myself putting it down several times and staring into space, trying to imagine it in all its colourful, challenging, bizarre glory. Eco themes are strong and I feel like it's my unofficial theme of 2025/2026 reading but this was such a unique take on it that it will be a stand out, I'm sure, when I reflect on the library as a whole.

Giving up salmon, sticking to my Woolies Swiss Browns, and contemplating sleep divorce just to be on the safe side.

[Daniella]

2.5

Loved the setting and the writing but why did we spend so much time on this boring relationship????

I'm a sucker for a Tasmanian author writing about nature and the atmosphere was so good here with a biting wind and the ever-present pollution of the salmon farms. I just thought we should have stuck to this and had a really cool grief/environment story (I think perhaps influenced by my having read 2 similar books recently Griefdogg or The Endling) instead of spending half the book hanging around with this dude? In concept it was interesting how she (geologist) interacted with her mans (diver) and how their knowledge weaved together and intersected with the fungus but like...please we had to make him a nepo baby to make him even kind of interesting? And yes fungus stuff was gross but I felt was strongest in its environmental message rather than the more horror elements. The ending I feel also didn't really fit with the vibe of the rest of the book.

I'd be interested to see if this author continues in a similar vein in future because there were some beautiful visuals here, I just think it felt a bit too muddy on what it was trying to do. There was a cool environmental message about how climate change is impacting habitat, but I didn't really care about the characters and found the vibe wasn't quite strong enough to make up for the lack of plot.

[Craig and Phil]

Big thanks to Ultimo Press for sending us a copy to read and review.
A stretch of the imagination and some hard hitting environmental facts meld together in a story that is thought provoking and interesting.
The grieving process, issues with salmon farming and the repercussions of life when nature has been disrespected weave their way through the plot.
A Tasmanian backdrop heightens the irony that a mystery illness could threaten such a pristine place.
The underlying greed to generate product from a salmon fish has both economical and social consequences.
Ursula arrives in Tasmania to assist her mother who was dying of a mysterious illness.
Cancer looked like it was the likely culprit but was it…..
Forced by a contagious rash pandemic to stay on in Tasmania she discovers truth, facts and enjoys her new single status with a young local guy.
An act of defiance clarifies a dilemma and will make the reader ponder.
I found this hard hitting and so refreshing.
A book that keeps you thinking afterwards has achieved not only entertainment but enlightenment.

[ellen]

Not what I was expecting. Very creative and kept me wanting to turn the page. Just not my cup of tea

[Cindy Spear]

This is the first literary fiction novel I have read by Romy Ash but after reading Mantle, with an environmental apocalyptic theme, I am keen to read more of her work. I must say the cover is gorgeous with a beautiful array of rich colour that certainly represents both the sea world and the novel’s hidden depths. If we pull our camera lens out of the water and look upwards to the sky and landscape that surrounds, we see the south east Tasmanian coastline that is wild, unpredictable and a force to be reckoned with. Just like this unique story that draws you in and wraps its tentacles around your heart and moves you to a variety of emotions!

Mantle is creative, humorous, haunting and strange. The prose is lyrical, poetic and carefully crafted. It gave me much to ponder and savour. I loved the opening page that paints a breath taking scene. I felt transported to the character’s location and what she sees (and I remember its stunning grandeur from a past trip to this area). And then I turn the page and the contrast from the beauty of the region to the ugliness of oncoming human death, hits hard. A reality that bites.

This novels delves into some hefty topics: death, grief and love. But it reveals how connected we are to each other and the environment. We know the world we live in can seriously affect our existence and the responsibility to be good stewards of it is vital. Health should never be taken for granted and we cannot expect that everything will remain the same around us. But when a virus hits and you are not sure how it entered or how to stop it, well that can be scary. I could not help but think of COVID, when the novel describes this strange virus and how quickly it spreads throughout the island and its inhabitants.

The story circles around Ursula, a geologist who has been working on the mainland but returns home to care for her ill mother. The inner emotional turmoil she experiences is pitted against the external one where things have gone awry. And then there is the local salmon acqua culture industry, something I know a fair bit about. I had many a conversations out on the water back home in Canada with my father before he passed. He had many concerns for the issues it caused and would continue to create. So the information on this topic in Mantle, I can relate to from personal experience.

We get to know Ursula’s mother for a bit before the worst happens. When she tries to speak, it is with much effort. Her lungs are in peril yet she tries to tell her daughter about a woman she read about who everyone thought had lung cancer. But when the medical team entered her body (surgery), they found she had inhaled a fir pine seed and a small tree was growing inside her lung. Well, that is a bizarre image but suitably placed in this story. Ironically, I read on line (whether true or not) where a man in Russia had this very thing happen to him. So the author may have been inspired by this telling and included it in her novel. Is it an urban myth, I don’t know, but normally a tree could not grow in a dark space like the human body for without photosynthesis it is unlikely to succeed.

We follow Ursula’s last days with her mother and the smell of impending death leaps off the page. So much is familiar as we have all most likely experienced something similar in our loved ones. The small talk, the hard conversations and the need to fill an empty space with words to ward off the shadows are ever present. As noted on these pages, the ‘waiting’ period can be challenging. And when that time comes, we feel Ursula’s shock and what follows after.

All through the reading, I observed, studied and appreciated Ursula’s inner journey as she tries to make sense of the state of things. I definitely felt her intense internal conflict in this waltz through the exploration of the human condition. And the story, true to its genre, leaves us with an open-ended ambiguous conclusion. It was an intriguing novel to read and it certainly gave me lots to consider! 4 Stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Thanks to Ultimo Press for the review copy.

[EmG ReadsDaily]

I really enjoyed this nature and climate focused story. I adored the Tasmanian setting.

[Emilie (emiliesbookshelf)]

It has taken me a while to get my thoughts together on Mantle. I went into this one blind, not sure what I was in for, and it was a very unique dive

Ursula returns home to Tasmania to care for her gravely ill mother. As her mother deteriorates, Ursula finds a rash covering her body, and before she knows it she is stranded on the island as this sickness spreads

Exploring grief and new growth, Mantle is at times a dark and squimish read.

Romy Ash has an amazing way with words, while it’s a heavy read it has a whimsical and at times dystopian feel.

Thank you Ultimopress for my gifted review copy

[Meg]

I’ve discovered a new phobia
Freaky
Cringing
Not really sure what happened tbh but I did listen while at work…

Climate change, morphing into each other, morality

Read if you wanna I guess

[Linda Quatermass]

Not sure about this one. Bit of a weird storyline about fish and funghi and death and loss. Although the story is weird the authors ability to write holds you. Pro s are beautiful and haunting

[nina.reads.books]

Well hello its another nature focussed, climate fiction set in Tasmania! Reading Mantle back to back with Every Wild Soul (see my earlier review) was definitely an experience. While there are similarities in setting these two books are very different, but both highlight the beauty and wonder of our natural world. Such a favourite genre of mine. And kudos to the designer – what a stunning cover!

In Mantle, Romy Ash gives us a novel of grief, death and environmental change. Ursula is a geologist from the mainland who comes to the coast of Tasmania to see her mother. Her mother has an unknown illness and as she cares for her, she ponders their family life. By the time her mother dies, Ursula has a rash and this rash seems to be spreading across the town. There is no way to go home amid a looming pandemic, so Ursula settles into her mother's house. She meets a younger man and they become entangled in a relationship of sorts. As Ursula’s grief begins to spiral strange things begin to grow on their bodies and well I won’t say anymore because what happens next is definitely unexpected and a tiny bit gross!

The writing in Mantle was incredible. I loved the lyrical prose – the descriptions of nature are so evocative. I also loved the cast of quirky characters though none were particularly lovable. This is a near future world with a lot unsaid. Salmon farming and its environmental impact plays a cameo role particularly in the end.

But Mantle is definitely a little on the strange side. Don’t go in expecting a straightforward plot with all the answers. But if you enjoy a bit of nature writing/climate fiction with a side of weird then you might like Mantle. I really enjoyed it!

Thank you @ultimopress for my #gifted copy.

[Sam]

Not sure I’ll be eating mushrooms again anytime soon…

Loved the writing, just didn’t really care for the storyline and the ending left me a little underwhelmed personally.

[Scott]

Wow, Romy Ash is a great writer.

The first few chapters had me doubting that Mantle was for me but the way the words came off the page made me want more. What the words produced was a story that was weird. Not unlikeable or odd weird but mystical and interesting. And a bit mesmerising. It has a bit of everything - grief, love, loss, growth and a deep social commentary on the dangers of ignoring the damage the world is doing to the environment. In its own way, it is critical and brutally honest and somewhat devoid of optimism.

The mind images of the scenery and location are a testament to the writing skills of Romy Ash.

This is so different and so very readable.

[Elise Carsburg]

Loved it. Finished in 3 days. So emotive. Felt like a terrible but magical journey through love and grief, with a sprinkle of environmental activism. I have come out of it wanting to hold my people a little closer.

[Kate Manning]

Brilliant, poignant and quite unsettling. Grief is written about in such a realistic way, intermingled with our lack of care for what is happening to our world. I’m not sure I will ever eat salmon again…

[Alison Bartolo]

3.5 stars, and a bit of a strange one, but worth the read.

[Karen]

2.5 rounded up
Great setting, some lovely writing, but still not sure about the plot and the relationships.

[Michelle Bradley]

I really wanted to love this book and there were so many parts of it that were incredible. I love the premise and the message but the fungi was just too much.

[Cameron]

Quite a beguiling read - something that traps you into its world even when you're not sure whether you're actually enjoying it!

What begins as a standard 'going to look after dying parent' trope moves into something very, very different indeed, as it veers into body horror and climate change and life in a post-pandemic world that's always on the edge.

I will admit to not loving Ash's style in this book of writing in very short staccato sentences, and often stating the minutiae of life, but the overall sense of terror and something unnerving around the edges kept me going. I haven't read a lot of Australian fiction that lends itself to horror, and that also made this quite the intriguing work.

I was lent this by a friend who said "I didn't love this, but i think it should be read, and you should read it". I think that is a great summary of Mantle.

[Brooke Jacobson]

This is really a case of “it’s not you, it’s me”. The writing was beautiful and evocative, but the storyline was honestly too weird for me. If this is your cup of tea, all power to you.

[Lee Baker]

Oh my goodness. Where to start! What a beautiful story (most unusual) which celebrates our connection to nature around us and in us.
Please read this glorious tale to feel all your emotions at once. I couldn’t put it down.
Hug the moss!!!!

[Jane]

Beautifully written - unexpected turn - one of those books I didn’t want to end.

[Tess Carrad]

I found this very enjoyable to read but I'm not sure why. The sense of place? The interesting characters? The beautiful cover? However some things don't make a lot of sense. And the ending.....?

[Squigz is Reading]

I had not read Romy Ash before, but I was gripped from the start with Mantle, the strong sense of place, not just within its Tasmanian setting, but also the way she described the insides of dwellings: clutter, dust turned slick on paper, the smell of woodfire; in terms of atmosphere, Mantle was crackling with it.

‘The southerly slips into my lungs, cools my heart.’

I am in awe of the way Romy Ash writes, the beauty of it; her words are so tangible and emotive. Sentence after sentence would give me pause throughout my reading and I was often noting something down, so many lines recorded and turned over in my mind. I think I liked this novel more for the beautiful writing than the actual plot or characters.

‘It tastes of butter and the time before I knew my mother had died.’

Mantle is the second environmental apocalyptic novel I’ve read inside a month. Quite different to The Water Takes, but even so, that core theme popping up again so soon, these are both new releases, was noteworthy for me. In this story there is a virus of environmental origin. It’s not clear where it comes from, how it's transmitted, or how to prevent it. The novel finishes with no resolution on this, other than the main character and her partner forging ahead with plans on how to live with it.

‘The lake itself looks dark and deep, rimmed in a layer of algae. Not even the water can breathe here.’

I’m going to be honest here, the virus was quite gross and as the novel progressed, and the virus progressed, there were certain things that the main character would do, that I found repulsive. I can’t be more specific, but if you’ve read it, you can probably guess what I’m referring to. I think these parts of the novel will be very much a case of individual response.

Ultimately, Mantle is a story of grief and love, and I found it incredibly moving. I would certainly be eager to read more by Romy Ash, and I recommend this one to book clubs as it has so much talking material within it.

[Gavan]

Great writing but very disturbing / unsettling (not an "easy" read). Brilliantly written - you can really feel the change taking place as the fungi take over. But I discovered by reading this that horror isn't really my thing. I liked the environmental messaging but found the story a bit slow & unengaging.

[Dana Hilliam (dlight_reads)]

3.5⭐️

This novel is incredibly well written, the concepts were both weird and wonderful holding my attention till the very last page (although the ending left me wanting more). The short chapters make this a very easy read, although the content is a little heavier to swallow. I may never eat a mushroom again.

[Glynis Rosser]

I struggled to finish this book and in the end, regret wasting my time.
Mantle is a cross between ‘Puberty Blues’ and a wanna be ‘Overstorey’.
Despite its blurb, there is little that is original in this story.
The 2 stars are for the language. The saving grace to this book is the almost poetic descriptive style of observation in between the rambling.

[Lisa]

Mantle.  An interesting choice of title for Romy Ash's new novel...

Earth's mantle, geologically speaking, is part of its structure which we learned at school as 'inner core, outer core, mantle, crust'.  But as the central character Ursula reminds us on page 93 when she is mulling over the many meanings of the word:

They say it's hot, dense, silicate rocks, mainly peridotite. The mantle hasn't been studied directly; nothing has ever drilled so deep.  There are a lot of very educated guesses when it comes to the mantle.

What lies beneath our feet is unknowable.

Other meanings of mantle are more familiar.

A mantle is also a loose clock or shawl, worn especially by a woman.  It's any covering: a bird's back, especially one of a distinct colour, like that of the superb fairy-wren. It's an outer layer of tissue, especially in molluscs, the bit that secretes the substance that makes a shell.

In the human world, a mantle can be a responsibility passed from one person to another, a type of inheritance.  An inheritance is not only good things, like cash or a house.

Indeed.  As we know when volcanic lava bursts through from the mantle, a mantle is not necessarily benign. I found myself also thinking of a mantle of snow, which can melt to reveal the first flowers of spring, or, less welcome, the detritus of the past and even corpses in places where the snow is so deep that the dead lie undisturbed for months.

***

Ursula has returned to coastal Tasmania to care for her mother.  She's a stratigrapher who researches earth's geological history, composition and age through its layers of rock.  Her expertise drives her concern about the 'plastics layer'.

What we are leaving in the strata now is a sort of forever poison.  This is the plastics layer.  Strange to think of the journey of this layer over millions of years,  The plastics holding no essence of once being a plant, of once being flesh.  Of lying for so long as part of the earth.  The extraction, this last transformation, and then the reburying, the leeching of all those bags, containers, the toothbrush handles.  A water bottle finally settles on the bottom of the sea and is covered in molluscs with their orange tongues, then a layer of mud, and then what? Black mud is lifeless, the dead things that fall aren't consumed by predators.  The dead things can rest undisturbed, layered in peace, silence, death.  This is the environment for perfect preservation. (p.43)

Ursula has an academic paper to write but it's on hold while she grapples with adjusting to living with her mother who's a longtime  hippie 'prepper'.

To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2026/05/14/m...

[Cass Moriarty]

Romy Ash’s second novel MANTLE (Ultimo Press 2025) explores our natural environment, community, isolation, fear, infection, love, desire, death, decay, ends and beginnings. MANTLE is full of contradictions: it is lovely literary prose yet highly engaging and authentic. Its characters are facing illness and death yet simultaneously chasing passion and new love. The narrative is for the most part realistic, yet towards the end a touch of fantasy or magical realism or otherworldliness creeps into the story, framed in such a way that we feel this could really happen, human life could become this way, nature might interweave with humanity in a manner yet unheard of, pandemics and disease could occur in many forms.

At the heart of the story is Ursula, a 50-year-old woman with the chutzpah and ‘no shits given’ attitude of a women of a certain (wise) age. She’s a geologist, particularly interested in ‘dividing history into segments and reading the Earth’s depths’, as she studies stones and sand and the many layers of rock beneath our feet. Ursula travels to Tasmania to care for her dying mother, who has contracted a strange illness with rare symptoms. A simple rash becomes something more sinister.

And the rash / virus / disease spreads.

Ursula is isolated in her mother’s house, her grief manifesting in various strange ways. She becomes involved with a much younger man and the two inhabit a messy, entangled relationship that has no name.

Meanwhile, news of spread of the disease reaches them sporadically – it is in the next town, across the island, on the mainland. Ursula’s state of grieving while simultaneously living in the house full of her mother’s personal belongs (her tea, her books, her remnants) prevents her from becoming fully engaged it what appears to be both a terrible infectious pandemic, but also one strangely accepted by the locals.

It is at this point in the novel that realism touches the fantastical. I won’t give away any more information (no spoilers) but the symptoms of this illness, its webbing across human and plant, its exotic power, its worrying metamorphosis reminded me very much of Kris Kneen’s writing, where the pragmatic and real is burnished by the unimaginable, the creepy, the incomprehensible.

This is a book about climate change, grief, relationships, connections and all that we don’t understand about our world and our place in it.