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anemogram.
A young girl emerges out of the woods. David is in the middle of wrestling with an unsatisfactory existence when she enters his life. He decides to look out for the girl, but he soon discovers she may not be all she seems.
Together they decide to seek out a place of safety, away from a world that could misunderstand their relationship. As their troubles come to the surface, events take a turn that will have life-changing consequences for the both of them.
Together they decide to seek out a place of safety, away from a world that could misunderstand their relationship. As their troubles come to the surface, events take a turn that will have life-changing consequences for the both of them.
254 pages, Paperback
First published August 20, 2015
323 people want to read
About the author
Rebecca Gransden
21 books258 followersThis author has always lived by the sea.
She tends to write about the edges of things so if you inhabit the fringes you may find something to like.
If you are interested in reading any of her books then send her a message and she'll get it to you in the digital format (PDF, MOBI, or eBook) of your choice.
Fellow indies - feel free to get in touch.
She tends to write about the edges of things so if you inhabit the fringes you may find something to like.
If you are interested in reading any of her books then send her a message and she'll get it to you in the digital format (PDF, MOBI, or eBook) of your choice.
Fellow indies - feel free to get in touch.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 41 reviews
February 6, 2017
anemogram. has many elements that I enjoy: creative use of language, strong imagery and an almost hallucinatory story line. A young girl appears out of nowhere and finds her way into different adult males' lives. To be clear, this story is not about child abuse. Instead, it focuses on the relationships the mysterious girl has with the world around her, with her chosen adult companions and with her possibly imaginary friend, Tinker. Different people, places and histories are explored, and the characters are fascinating. However - and I will preface this by saying that I do appreciate abstraction - I often found the route of the story difficult to follow. In the end, there was no clear resolution to tie together all the enigmatic ends. That being said, the author demonstrates much talent with words and imagination, and I will be interested in reading her next effort.
Many thanks to my friends Rodney and Thomas for the buddy read.
3.5 stars
Many thanks to my friends Rodney and Thomas for the buddy read.
3.5 stars
August 26, 2015
It's been a pleasure of mine to read a number of Gransden's cryptic short stories. It's rare that a debut author comes out with a style this defined: stories that glance off of memories, of the surreal, and... that's actually about as good a description as I can come up with, for the simple reason that I find her work original, indescribable. Gransden is the only author whose stories I need to read to the end before I can make any sense of them. It's almost as if the true reading of her stories is in remembering them. That's because her stories are as much about what isn't happening as what is. With language, she hypnotises and seduces, but never gives too much away, asking that we bring our curiosity and eye for detail.
Her debut novel(la?) anemogram is no different. What does the title mean? I was told it was chosen at random. But I think the peripatetic title found its story. It is the record of the wending path of a young elfin girl that catches upon a stranger with the chance and grace of a fly stitch. Their journey together is as apparently meandering- and yet, upon further examination, as predestined- as the movement of the wind. But hey: get your own meaning. This story isn't about my projection; it's about yours.
If I was forced to compare, I'd go for Carver, Hemingway, or Ballard. But I don't know that I enjoy those guys as much.
You should read this.
Her debut novel(la?) anemogram is no different. What does the title mean? I was told it was chosen at random. But I think the peripatetic title found its story. It is the record of the wending path of a young elfin girl that catches upon a stranger with the chance and grace of a fly stitch. Their journey together is as apparently meandering- and yet, upon further examination, as predestined- as the movement of the wind. But hey: get your own meaning. This story isn't about my projection; it's about yours.
If I was forced to compare, I'd go for Carver, Hemingway, or Ballard. But I don't know that I enjoy those guys as much.
You should read this.
December 10, 2016
I wanted to read this book because people I knew had praised it highly. It took me three attempts. The opening paragraph is willfully obscure. The title was, the author says, chosen at random. (For what it’s worth, an anemogram is a graphic record of wind speed.) The first few pages sometimes seem overwritten. Those who read this review, and then read this book, will think at first that I’m mad to give it five stars. I’m not.
Rebecca Gransden’s anemogram. (sic) opens in an abandoned yard in the woods. It’s late summer, and a girl of six or seven has been sleeping rough. We follow her as she wakes and moves through the forest, and finds a hut, a sort of site office. She breaks in, and is eventually caught by a young man. She tells him her name is Rachel, and that she is alone because of an accident, and he takes her in search of her parents, who he thinks must be injured. She slips away from him and spends the night in the woods.
But it isn’t long before she looks for food in another site office, where she is taken in hand by a slightly older man, David. This time she says her name is Sarah. We learn that his estranged wife has gone abroad with their children. He is alone and decides to keep the girl with him and pretend that the girl is his niece. But he knows that he may be suspected of molesting the child. For the next few days they travel together as David looks for somewhere they can be together without exciting this suspicion. It is a search that leads to tragedy.
Who, really, is the girl, and where has she come from? Gransden’s in no hurry to answer this, and you eventually realize that she might not even do so. To find out if she does, one must read the book. But in any case, by the time I was halfway through, I’d decided it didn’t matter. What did, was David and Sarah’s strange journey through the physical and psychic landscape of modern England.
It’s this journey that raises this book so far above the ordinary. Gransden is a visual, almost tactile, writer, and has a wonderful ability to conjure up a time and place. Thus Sarah spends a night in the woods early in the book; the twigs, leaves, damp earth and gnarled bark are so real that you can smell the forest. She and David visit a hilltop on the coast, and the light on the sea is as real as the flakes of pastry from their picnic that are blown about in the wind. When it comes to the human environment, Gransden is even better; the tatty inside of a site office, motorway service stations, a run-down farm building, an antiseptic and regimented care home where they visit David’s mother. The people, too, feel real; a casual encounter with a fast-food worker or a youth in the park or a man in a hard hat – they’re all right there in your head.
Whether Sarah herself is real, or a ghost or a runaway or what, is secondary; in fact, I’m not sure Gransden greatly cares. It just isn’t the point. What the point of this book really is, only Gransden knows. But I think I can guess. The building sites and supermarkets and fast-food restaurants in this book all convey an atmosphere of sterility and alienation through which David moves as if in a dream. For him, Sarah represents connection and meaning, and a chance to revisit the excitement of childhood. anemogram. seems, at first, infuriating, but in the end it is an extraordinary and evocative meditation on what it is to be English in the 21st century. We yearn to be in the woods with Sarah, but our world is the supermarket checkout, cardboard fries, motorways, and the smell of petrol in the rain.
Rebecca Gransden’s anemogram. (sic) opens in an abandoned yard in the woods. It’s late summer, and a girl of six or seven has been sleeping rough. We follow her as she wakes and moves through the forest, and finds a hut, a sort of site office. She breaks in, and is eventually caught by a young man. She tells him her name is Rachel, and that she is alone because of an accident, and he takes her in search of her parents, who he thinks must be injured. She slips away from him and spends the night in the woods.
But it isn’t long before she looks for food in another site office, where she is taken in hand by a slightly older man, David. This time she says her name is Sarah. We learn that his estranged wife has gone abroad with their children. He is alone and decides to keep the girl with him and pretend that the girl is his niece. But he knows that he may be suspected of molesting the child. For the next few days they travel together as David looks for somewhere they can be together without exciting this suspicion. It is a search that leads to tragedy.
Who, really, is the girl, and where has she come from? Gransden’s in no hurry to answer this, and you eventually realize that she might not even do so. To find out if she does, one must read the book. But in any case, by the time I was halfway through, I’d decided it didn’t matter. What did, was David and Sarah’s strange journey through the physical and psychic landscape of modern England.
It’s this journey that raises this book so far above the ordinary. Gransden is a visual, almost tactile, writer, and has a wonderful ability to conjure up a time and place. Thus Sarah spends a night in the woods early in the book; the twigs, leaves, damp earth and gnarled bark are so real that you can smell the forest. She and David visit a hilltop on the coast, and the light on the sea is as real as the flakes of pastry from their picnic that are blown about in the wind. When it comes to the human environment, Gransden is even better; the tatty inside of a site office, motorway service stations, a run-down farm building, an antiseptic and regimented care home where they visit David’s mother. The people, too, feel real; a casual encounter with a fast-food worker or a youth in the park or a man in a hard hat – they’re all right there in your head.
Whether Sarah herself is real, or a ghost or a runaway or what, is secondary; in fact, I’m not sure Gransden greatly cares. It just isn’t the point. What the point of this book really is, only Gransden knows. But I think I can guess. The building sites and supermarkets and fast-food restaurants in this book all convey an atmosphere of sterility and alienation through which David moves as if in a dream. For him, Sarah represents connection and meaning, and a chance to revisit the excitement of childhood. anemogram. seems, at first, infuriating, but in the end it is an extraordinary and evocative meditation on what it is to be English in the 21st century. We yearn to be in the woods with Sarah, but our world is the supermarket checkout, cardboard fries, motorways, and the smell of petrol in the rain.
January 14, 2016
This little book kicked my ass.
I finished reading it yesterday. My thoughts were in chaos. I couldn't write a review. I'm not much better today. But I'll try. I shouldn't wait too long.
First, kudos to the author who, just when I thought I had her story figured out, she goes and picks it up, shakes it (and, by extension, me) viciously, then sends it down a path I never expected. And now that I think about it, there were hints along the way that this would happen. There were details that were creepy, and increasingly so. But I dismissed all as the product of a dark mind (mine).
The plot in one line: A mysterious little girl appears in David's life and quietly turns his world upside down.
That story, however, is secondary to its mood. And to be honest, it was difficult for me to get into the mood at first. The writing is rich; of the sort I haven't read since university. Sometimes it felt like I wasn't reading a book so much as looking at a painting or listening to an early Aphex Twin album. Another comparison that kept coming to mind, since the plot involves a road trip, Terence Malick's Badlands (1973): prose as cinematography.
I've nothing against this sort of writing, but in my experience such comes at the expense of other aspects of fiction. Happily, as more dialogue and characters appeared, this turned out not to be the case. Kudos again to the author for creating believable male characters. They're neither filthy beasts nor the Rich and the Ripped type I see on the covers of female porn novels appearing with hilarious consistency on my Goodreads feed. The dudes of anemogram., thankfully, are normal.
Initially, I was also uncomfortable with the little girl (whose name changes with each new man she latches onto). But that's only because I have a precocious relation who, when she was this girl's age, also talked and acted more like an adult; to the point that you had to actively remind yourself that Jesus, she's just a kid. Watch what you say.
Slowly, softly, anemogram. seems to become more normal, with regular interesting conversation and goings-on. I even foresaw a conventional conclusion. Forget the little part of me still uncomfortable with the fact that this grown man is spending an awful lot of time with a parent-less girl. Also, dismiss fully Tinker, the little girl's imaginary friend, who tells her stories that grow increasingly weird. And just gloss over those details that seem to make you wince, like the little girl's obsession with picking at her scab or burying a desiccated frog - cute little images I can't get out of my nightmares. Can't you see all that's just window dressing?
Ah, but then the plot turns, and it's full-on disturbing thereafter. Almost horror movie like, in fact. Then, suddenly, there's the end and you're left feeling like you've been pushed out of a moving car.....
I really don't know what I just read. But I do know it's deep. It's original. It's shocking.
I finished reading it yesterday. My thoughts were in chaos. I couldn't write a review. I'm not much better today. But I'll try. I shouldn't wait too long.
First, kudos to the author who, just when I thought I had her story figured out, she goes and picks it up, shakes it (and, by extension, me) viciously, then sends it down a path I never expected. And now that I think about it, there were hints along the way that this would happen. There were details that were creepy, and increasingly so. But I dismissed all as the product of a dark mind (mine).
The plot in one line: A mysterious little girl appears in David's life and quietly turns his world upside down.
That story, however, is secondary to its mood. And to be honest, it was difficult for me to get into the mood at first. The writing is rich; of the sort I haven't read since university. Sometimes it felt like I wasn't reading a book so much as looking at a painting or listening to an early Aphex Twin album. Another comparison that kept coming to mind, since the plot involves a road trip, Terence Malick's Badlands (1973): prose as cinematography.
I've nothing against this sort of writing, but in my experience such comes at the expense of other aspects of fiction. Happily, as more dialogue and characters appeared, this turned out not to be the case. Kudos again to the author for creating believable male characters. They're neither filthy beasts nor the Rich and the Ripped type I see on the covers of female porn novels appearing with hilarious consistency on my Goodreads feed. The dudes of anemogram., thankfully, are normal.
Initially, I was also uncomfortable with the little girl (whose name changes with each new man she latches onto). But that's only because I have a precocious relation who, when she was this girl's age, also talked and acted more like an adult; to the point that you had to actively remind yourself that Jesus, she's just a kid. Watch what you say.
Slowly, softly, anemogram. seems to become more normal, with regular interesting conversation and goings-on. I even foresaw a conventional conclusion. Forget the little part of me still uncomfortable with the fact that this grown man is spending an awful lot of time with a parent-less girl. Also, dismiss fully Tinker, the little girl's imaginary friend, who tells her stories that grow increasingly weird. And just gloss over those details that seem to make you wince, like the little girl's obsession with picking at her scab or burying a desiccated frog - cute little images I can't get out of my nightmares. Can't you see all that's just window dressing?
Ah, but then the plot turns, and it's full-on disturbing thereafter. Almost horror movie like, in fact. Then, suddenly, there's the end and you're left feeling like you've been pushed out of a moving car.....
I really don't know what I just read. But I do know it's deep. It's original. It's shocking.
January 26, 2016
It took me a number of attempts to get into the writing style of this book. This is nothing to do with the author's writing ability (as Gransden has clearly honed her craft before publishing anything before now) and everything to do with the fact that I don't read outside of my comfort zone often enough. Call me an ignorant arse (and I really am), but I've seen the genre magical realism banded around for many years and have ignored it because it doesn't sound like my cup of tea at all. I don't know if this book is what's considered magical realism, but it was certainly magical. If felt 'of this world' but 'not of this world' all at the same time. In fact the references to McDonald's and a mobile phone were like a kick to balls because I could've sworn those things didn't exist in the universe of the book.
And I would like to mention that Gransden can probably write about a train journey from Bognor Regis to some other hilarious-sounding village and make every single sentence entirely gripping. At times there were glimmers of genius in the writing and some of the descriptions of the natural world could've been lifted straight out of a Wordsworth poem.
There is a minor criticism, however, and it echoes that which can be found in other reviews of this book. In a nutshell I felt like I needed more of a conclusion. I'm not one of these people who needs everything explaining to them or wants a neat little ending; however, because this story was so character driven, I felt like I needed just a bit more of a wrap up come the end. I may have to read this again in the future because I feel like I may have missed something with the relationship between the two main characters - I only have myself to blame if this is the case.
Either way this doesn't detract from the overall loveliness of this story. I really enjoyed this very unique tale of an unlikely relationship and I look forward to future stories by this new talent.
(EDIT: in order to be fair and consistent I have remarked this as 5 star on the basis that it is one of a tiny stack of books I intend to reread owed to the author's skill of balancing narrative and mystery]
And I would like to mention that Gransden can probably write about a train journey from Bognor Regis to some other hilarious-sounding village and make every single sentence entirely gripping. At times there were glimmers of genius in the writing and some of the descriptions of the natural world could've been lifted straight out of a Wordsworth poem.
There is a minor criticism, however, and it echoes that which can be found in other reviews of this book. In a nutshell I felt like I needed more of a conclusion. I'm not one of these people who needs everything explaining to them or wants a neat little ending; however, because this story was so character driven, I felt like I needed just a bit more of a wrap up come the end. I may have to read this again in the future because I feel like I may have missed something with the relationship between the two main characters - I only have myself to blame if this is the case.
Either way this doesn't detract from the overall loveliness of this story. I really enjoyed this very unique tale of an unlikely relationship and I look forward to future stories by this new talent.
(EDIT: in order to be fair and consistent I have remarked this as 5 star on the basis that it is one of a tiny stack of books I intend to reread owed to the author's skill of balancing narrative and mystery]
January 16, 2016
I'm confident that the writer will end up with a major, prestigious literary award one fine day. That is to say that my feeling whilst reading this book was that I encountered greatness.
We love different books for different reasons and the main reason for loving this one is the wealth of subtext, the profound unspoken, what lies underneath. The author is to be complimented on so many aspects but I need to point out the independent spirit of this work. Tarkovsky once replied to the complain about the bleakness of his narrative text and solutions: 'I'm not responsible for the happiness of my audience'. Likewise, in the 'anemogram' the author lets the narrative breathe and takes it to the direction she wishes in artistic honesty and bravery, without external calculations. (I have had my share of exposure to authors who construct their books based on recipes for popularity feeding their readers what 'they want' or expect to keep them sweet and coming back. Only that we can't talk about books and readers anymore but -disdainfully yours!- about products and happy customers).
The story starts with a mysterious seven year old girl wandering in the woods. She is homeless, alone, responsible for her own survival stealing food when she can, letting herself near people she chooses, only to run away from them, because they are not 'suitable'. Her name is either Rachel or Sarah. Her 'imaginary friend' Tinker is the one she discusses her decisions with and at times the one who dictates to her. He is also the one to tell her a good bedtime story. His stories are lyrical, melancholic or gory. And then she meets David, a divorced father of two. He takes time off work and off they are on their journey.
The descriptions are of immense beauty and precision. From the first pages following Sarah's steps the depictions of the nature around her brings to mind somewhat of a bucolic idyll or a symphonic poem leading very subtly into naturalism. The author's mastery of creating images and bringing them to life is sensual and mesmerising. The dialogues and character interactions are very convincing and the characters themselves despite their veiled intentions become unquestionably plausible.
A truly accomplished work, memorable for all the right reasons, mature and whole which I not only strongly recommend but I'd love to see taking the place it deserves.
We love different books for different reasons and the main reason for loving this one is the wealth of subtext, the profound unspoken, what lies underneath. The author is to be complimented on so many aspects but I need to point out the independent spirit of this work. Tarkovsky once replied to the complain about the bleakness of his narrative text and solutions: 'I'm not responsible for the happiness of my audience'. Likewise, in the 'anemogram' the author lets the narrative breathe and takes it to the direction she wishes in artistic honesty and bravery, without external calculations. (I have had my share of exposure to authors who construct their books based on recipes for popularity feeding their readers what 'they want' or expect to keep them sweet and coming back. Only that we can't talk about books and readers anymore but -disdainfully yours!- about products and happy customers).
The story starts with a mysterious seven year old girl wandering in the woods. She is homeless, alone, responsible for her own survival stealing food when she can, letting herself near people she chooses, only to run away from them, because they are not 'suitable'. Her name is either Rachel or Sarah. Her 'imaginary friend' Tinker is the one she discusses her decisions with and at times the one who dictates to her. He is also the one to tell her a good bedtime story. His stories are lyrical, melancholic or gory. And then she meets David, a divorced father of two. He takes time off work and off they are on their journey.
The descriptions are of immense beauty and precision. From the first pages following Sarah's steps the depictions of the nature around her brings to mind somewhat of a bucolic idyll or a symphonic poem leading very subtly into naturalism. The author's mastery of creating images and bringing them to life is sensual and mesmerising. The dialogues and character interactions are very convincing and the characters themselves despite their veiled intentions become unquestionably plausible.
A truly accomplished work, memorable for all the right reasons, mature and whole which I not only strongly recommend but I'd love to see taking the place it deserves.
August 29, 2020
A very young girl—six or seven—wanders semi-feral through exurban zones of fragmented forest and construction sites. When she needs food she approaches civilization and in the course of her foraging sometimes she is discovered. This happens twice in the novel—both times she is found by lonely men whose fathering instincts readily emerge. With the second man, David, she embarks on a series of low-key but weighty adventures, in the way that when we are young many journeys take on a significance beyond the commonplace. The girl—who adopts various names as it suits her—is precocious in both her speech and her perceptive abilities.
If one were to approach this work as a straight realist story it would seem implausible. But Gransden works in the fertile prosaic soil buried along the borders of the real and the irreal. Seemingly banal lines of dialogue are juxtaposed with jarring passages of visceral imagery or interleaved with lush descriptions of nature and the countryside. Also nested within the structure are short tales told to the girl by an entity known only as Tinker. Gransden takes her time with the story, indulging in a slow reveal of deeper insights into the girl’s persona and history. A latticework plot materializes—the uneasy relationship between the girl and this latest caretaker grows complicated, to say the least. Is their connection predicated on lies or half-truths…or does it even matter.
If I had to liken the style and feel of this book to another writer and another book, it would be Joy Williams, and in particular her novel The Changeling. Gransden’s story hovers in a similar interstitial state, perched on the threshold of fully realizing itself in any of a number of novelistic types—psychological, suspense, mystery—but instead of fully committing to any of them, it neatly twists itself in and around all of them, evading definitive categorization, as only the best books can do.
If one were to approach this work as a straight realist story it would seem implausible. But Gransden works in the fertile prosaic soil buried along the borders of the real and the irreal. Seemingly banal lines of dialogue are juxtaposed with jarring passages of visceral imagery or interleaved with lush descriptions of nature and the countryside. Also nested within the structure are short tales told to the girl by an entity known only as Tinker. Gransden takes her time with the story, indulging in a slow reveal of deeper insights into the girl’s persona and history. A latticework plot materializes—the uneasy relationship between the girl and this latest caretaker grows complicated, to say the least. Is their connection predicated on lies or half-truths…or does it even matter.
If I had to liken the style and feel of this book to another writer and another book, it would be Joy Williams, and in particular her novel The Changeling. Gransden’s story hovers in a similar interstitial state, perched on the threshold of fully realizing itself in any of a number of novelistic types—psychological, suspense, mystery—but instead of fully committing to any of them, it neatly twists itself in and around all of them, evading definitive categorization, as only the best books can do.
October 20, 2021
Really enjoyed this. There’s an interesting subversion here. On one hand it’s a book that likes to explain everything. At the tempo of a mumblecore independent film, there are long shots of swarming starlings and a little girl tromping through wet grass, long gray car rides with sparse dialogue, the consumption of various junk foods, all of it told with an equal amount of detail without many cuts, as though to say: it’s all equally important.
On the other hand it’s far more reticent than a book that ‘likes to explain everything’ might otherwise be. It raises far more questions than it answers. I imagine the editor of a more commercial novel would urge Gransden to fill out the mythology of this girl ‘Sarah,’ or whatever her name is, and to clarify her relationship with the other entities she seems in league with, and to make plain David’s need to care for this child that came from nowhere, and what the heck poor Mungo had endured earlier in life that he still hasn’t gotten over. (Long ago I wrote a story about a poor little purple piñata-like creature named Mungo who is, ominously, invited as a special guest to a birthday party. This coincidence gave me instant sympathy for Gransden’s Mungo, who is far more worth taking seriously than my Mungo was.)
What clues Gransden does leave weigh enigmatically on her sentences, which go on describing and describing, indifferent to your need to know. These sentences ask the reader to use their intuition, to ride the tone of the writing into their own personal conspiracy theory. And for the right kind of reader that’s a pleasure.
On the other hand it’s far more reticent than a book that ‘likes to explain everything’ might otherwise be. It raises far more questions than it answers. I imagine the editor of a more commercial novel would urge Gransden to fill out the mythology of this girl ‘Sarah,’ or whatever her name is, and to clarify her relationship with the other entities she seems in league with, and to make plain David’s need to care for this child that came from nowhere, and what the heck poor Mungo had endured earlier in life that he still hasn’t gotten over. (Long ago I wrote a story about a poor little purple piñata-like creature named Mungo who is, ominously, invited as a special guest to a birthday party. This coincidence gave me instant sympathy for Gransden’s Mungo, who is far more worth taking seriously than my Mungo was.)
What clues Gransden does leave weigh enigmatically on her sentences, which go on describing and describing, indifferent to your need to know. These sentences ask the reader to use their intuition, to ride the tone of the writing into their own personal conspiracy theory. And for the right kind of reader that’s a pleasure.
October 6, 2015
Y’know how with some books, you just keep reading the next bit, and before you know it, what should’ve been thirty minutes’ reading has turned into several hours. This was one of those books. I’ve just raced through it in two sittings.
Sure, there are plenty of questions to be had from the offset, so you want to keep reading to find the answers, but this book is also the exact opposite of using any such devices as cliffhangers. It doesn’t even use a chapter format to enhance the reader’s curiosity. Sure, you’ll keep reading to try to discover more, but above any plot situations, it’s simply Rebecca Gransden’s writing style that will pull you in. It’s actually hard to believe that this is a debut, because the author writes with an expert descriptive panache that will warm you inside and bring a small smile to the corner of your lip, yet you won’t know why you’re smiling. Then you’ll realise that you’re smiling because Gransden’s words are simply: that good! This is up there with those few Indie books I consider to be worthy of mass attention.
Right from the word go, you’re just there. In the story. There’s no lead in. No explanation. You’re just there. When I realised I was already a third of the way through in no time at all, if someone had have asked me, “So, what’s happened?”, the answer would have been, “Not much.” This is a good thing. A very good thing. Not much happens at all, and yet that’s also completely untrue…so much happens that I’m still left pondering on much of it.
The setting alone is brilliantly chosen. The lost little girl protagonist of anemogram survives by living off the land, but in modern England, this means: off the edge of the land. Cities and towns are avoided. Instead, we wander through motorways, construction sites, car parks, drive-thru McDonalds, old shacks and the middle of nowhere. The urban sprawl that has invaded the countryside more and more and continues to do so, plays an important part in this book; just by it being the location.
Innocence. Kindness. Cruelty. Freedom. Childhood. Nature. Human nature. Timelessness. Change. Life. Death. These are just a few words that spring to mind when thinking about anemogram.
There are also a few short stories throughout , told by someone called Tinker; who plays a pivotal, but background, role in this book. These short stories are especially wonderful, and I particularly liked the one about humans and birds living below in the soft mud of the Earth, leaving the trees to claim the topsoil land as its own.
Any negative criticism then? Nope.
Hurry up with the next book please Rebecca.
September 12, 2016
When the author of Anemogram, Rebecca Gransden contacted me a few days ago asking if I would like to review her debut novel I happily agreed and told her I should have read and reviewed it in a couple of days.
In reality it took me only three hours.
This was due to the fact that this was a mind blowingly addictive book which I could not put down.
The language and writing style is so rich that the only other author I could possibly compare it to is Peter S Beagle. That in itself is the biggest compliment I could possibly give. The type of writing which is sometimes discouraged in this day and age and the type of writing I happen to love. Like someone describing what they see on a cinema screen. It's incredible. It's delicious and in the case of this book it's highly disturbing.
The underlying currents of horror, sex and perversion reminded me a little of Lolita but without the sexual element at all. I'm not even sure that sentence makes sense but it's how this little novel made me feel.
The sense that this child was somehow 'otherworldy' was a pervading undertone throughout. The unsuriety of what would happen next. The confusion, the whole damn book is a riddle!
It was incredible. I can't help but go back to the language and the writing because it made the book. The obsessive and sometimes disgusting things which went on (I refer you to the picking of the scab). Mixed in with the constant question in the readers mind of WHO IS SHE?
It's dark, it's creepy, it's the stuff of nightmares while not exactly being scary. It's weird and wonderful and utterly frustrating and it's the best book I've read all year.
In reality it took me only three hours.
This was due to the fact that this was a mind blowingly addictive book which I could not put down.
The language and writing style is so rich that the only other author I could possibly compare it to is Peter S Beagle. That in itself is the biggest compliment I could possibly give. The type of writing which is sometimes discouraged in this day and age and the type of writing I happen to love. Like someone describing what they see on a cinema screen. It's incredible. It's delicious and in the case of this book it's highly disturbing.
The underlying currents of horror, sex and perversion reminded me a little of Lolita but without the sexual element at all. I'm not even sure that sentence makes sense but it's how this little novel made me feel.
The sense that this child was somehow 'otherworldy' was a pervading undertone throughout. The unsuriety of what would happen next. The confusion, the whole damn book is a riddle!
It was incredible. I can't help but go back to the language and the writing because it made the book. The obsessive and sometimes disgusting things which went on (I refer you to the picking of the scab). Mixed in with the constant question in the readers mind of WHO IS SHE?
It's dark, it's creepy, it's the stuff of nightmares while not exactly being scary. It's weird and wonderful and utterly frustrating and it's the best book I've read all year.
Read
January 18, 2017DNF at 31 %. The dreamlike and poetic prose balances on the right side of pretentiousness at all times and I have no problem at all understanding that one could be very much seduced by it and enjoy this a lot. My problems are that I could not stop searching for a coherent story line and even more, at a third in I felt no compulsion at all to find out what's really going on and how the story would evolve.
Following the exhausting work that was The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket, this suited me quite poorly right now. Maybe I'll get back to it, possibly following Janie's and Rodney's reviews, which I'm looking forward to.
Following the exhausting work that was The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket, this suited me quite poorly right now. Maybe I'll get back to it, possibly following Janie's and Rodney's reviews, which I'm looking forward to.
October 24, 2021
People who have slipped free of the ties of civilization to live in the bosom of Mother Nature have existed in literature from time immemorial. Sumerian mythology presented us with Enkidu. The Bible shows us Nebuchadnezzar living like an animal. The Middle Ages had woodwoses and knights gone mad. Kipling created Mowgli the "wolf-cub" and J.M. Barrie gave us Peter Pan, the flying imp who didn't want to grow up, along with his band of Lost Boys.
Rebecca Gransden gives us a lost girl, Sarah, who wanders on the periphery of English civilization, preferring to live in nature or in abandoned settings, coming out only when it seems expedient to do so. And just as Peter Pan had the jealous and protective Tinker Bell, Sarah is accompanied by a mysterious entity or presence named Tinker, who keeps her company and warns her of danger. Though she is not quite feral, and eventually develops a tenuous relationship with a man named David, who tries to take care of her, she fights fiercely and without much hesitation in order not to get lured back into society.
This novel is by turns lyrical, haunting, weird and dark. There are plenty of loose ends here too. For instance, we don't know how Sarah got into the wild in the first place, and we don't know exactly who or what Tinker is, even though he and others of his ilk eventually show up in human form. It doesn't seem to matter really. There are plenty of dark corners in this story to begin with, so having a bit of mystery just adds to the atmosphere.
Rebecca Gransden gives us a lost girl, Sarah, who wanders on the periphery of English civilization, preferring to live in nature or in abandoned settings, coming out only when it seems expedient to do so. And just as Peter Pan had the jealous and protective Tinker Bell, Sarah is accompanied by a mysterious entity or presence named Tinker, who keeps her company and warns her of danger. Though she is not quite feral, and eventually develops a tenuous relationship with a man named David, who tries to take care of her, she fights fiercely and without much hesitation in order not to get lured back into society.
This novel is by turns lyrical, haunting, weird and dark. There are plenty of loose ends here too. For instance, we don't know how Sarah got into the wild in the first place, and we don't know exactly who or what Tinker is, even though he and others of his ilk eventually show up in human form. It doesn't seem to matter really. There are plenty of dark corners in this story to begin with, so having a bit of mystery just adds to the atmosphere.
July 2, 2018
Rebecca Gransden is a fantastic story teller, right from the start you get whisked away with the story. Sarah is an interesting little girl who causes you to ask lots of questions. David is a quiet brooding character. And Tinker? He/she is very entertaining, every now and then they tell a story to Sarah, the stories feel like little fables that Buddha has come up with, I found them good fun to read.
My biggest issue with this book is that none of my many questions were answered, I'm still unsure what exactly Sarah is, what has happened in David's past and a whole host of other questions, I might need directors commentary with the book. I think the author has some short stories based on this world she has created so I will need to go hunt them out and I might get my answers.
Brilliant story and looking for to reading more of her work.
Blog review is here> https://felcherman.wordpress.com/2018...
My biggest issue with this book is that none of my many questions were answered, I'm still unsure what exactly Sarah is, what has happened in David's past and a whole host of other questions, I might need directors commentary with the book. I think the author has some short stories based on this world she has created so I will need to go hunt them out and I might get my answers.
Brilliant story and looking for to reading more of her work.
Blog review is here> https://felcherman.wordpress.com/2018...
August 1, 2016
Thoroughly enjoyed this!
It took me a little while to get used to the writing, but once I did, I got pretty mesmerized by this strange story. I tend to get annoyed if I feel like the writer is being intentionally coy just for the sake of it, as if confusing the reader is a goal in itself, but that really wasn't the case here. The mystery, tension and great writing doesn't need any more action.
Reading this really made me think about The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman, a book I didn't really enjoy. Where Gaiman resorts to a sort of 19th century pastoral England setting in order to create some magic, Gransden manages to write about David's (and Sarah's) personal little odyssey in what seems like a dead boring and pretty unromantic version of modern England, using some clever contrasts to mix the mysterious and mundane, which is a far greater achievement as far as I'm concerned.
Good stuff.
It took me a little while to get used to the writing, but once I did, I got pretty mesmerized by this strange story. I tend to get annoyed if I feel like the writer is being intentionally coy just for the sake of it, as if confusing the reader is a goal in itself, but that really wasn't the case here. The mystery, tension and great writing doesn't need any more action.
Reading this really made me think about The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman, a book I didn't really enjoy. Where Gaiman resorts to a sort of 19th century pastoral England setting in order to create some magic, Gransden manages to write about David's (and Sarah's) personal little odyssey in what seems like a dead boring and pretty unromantic version of modern England, using some clever contrasts to mix the mysterious and mundane, which is a far greater achievement as far as I'm concerned.
Good stuff.
August 27, 2015
A man going through a mid-life crisis - David - takes a homeless waif under his wing, bunking work to look out for her for a while. She, seemingly innocent, knows how to manipulate people to survive. He takes her at face value and sees an idealised reflection of his own estranged daughter in her, and it is this version of the girl that we meet at the beginning of the book.
In this idealised image, the girl is almost an incarnation of nature itself, inhabiting the woods and verges, more Daughter Nature than Mother Nature. Young, yet with the clear-eyed and unadulterated wisdom of children. With the diminished physical sphere of interest of those her age, she appreciates the tiniest things and, through her, he begins to re-learn to connect with his surroundings and to discover a long-forgotten, younger side of himself. As with any ideal, however, reality can never live up to its promise ...
The style of the book is varied - largely lyrical but interspersed with no-frills dialogue and gritty descriptions of degraded semi-urban landscapes. Some of the most memorable passages are the dreamy, meandering asides when Tinker, the girl's imaginary companion, tells her bedtime stories with a pleasing absence of logic in them.
The portrayal of a man in middle-age, foolhardily trying to wind back the clock, poses a dilemma for the Anemogram reader. His efforts with the girl are harmless, patient, kind, even endearing. But why? Are they for her, or for himself? And does it really matter, if they are well-intentioned? His reactions to some of the events in the book are Jesus-esque in their degree of forgiveness, and this made him slightly less plausible than he would have been otherwise. To this end, it would have been interesting to know more of his background and what, if anything, he was attempting to redeem himself from, other than the breakdown of his family. It is, though, a novel driven with purpose by the solid characters of the girl and David and leaves you feeling that you know them - a nice way to finish time spent with any book.
In this idealised image, the girl is almost an incarnation of nature itself, inhabiting the woods and verges, more Daughter Nature than Mother Nature. Young, yet with the clear-eyed and unadulterated wisdom of children. With the diminished physical sphere of interest of those her age, she appreciates the tiniest things and, through her, he begins to re-learn to connect with his surroundings and to discover a long-forgotten, younger side of himself. As with any ideal, however, reality can never live up to its promise ...
The style of the book is varied - largely lyrical but interspersed with no-frills dialogue and gritty descriptions of degraded semi-urban landscapes. Some of the most memorable passages are the dreamy, meandering asides when Tinker, the girl's imaginary companion, tells her bedtime stories with a pleasing absence of logic in them.
The portrayal of a man in middle-age, foolhardily trying to wind back the clock, poses a dilemma for the Anemogram reader. His efforts with the girl are harmless, patient, kind, even endearing. But why? Are they for her, or for himself? And does it really matter, if they are well-intentioned? His reactions to some of the events in the book are Jesus-esque in their degree of forgiveness, and this made him slightly less plausible than he would have been otherwise. To this end, it would have been interesting to know more of his background and what, if anything, he was attempting to redeem himself from, other than the breakdown of his family. It is, though, a novel driven with purpose by the solid characters of the girl and David and leaves you feeling that you know them - a nice way to finish time spent with any book.
February 6, 2016
I was so mad at this book for ending! Seriously. I have so many questions! Tinker??? C'mon, I need to know more! And the murdering? Or maybe cleansing IS a better word . . . I will definitely be re-reading this in the future, searching for clues. Because that's what Gransden gives you-bits and pieces to figure out, stew on, wonder about, all while blazing through her deliciously surreal masterpiece. Can't wait for more from this author!
March 28, 2021
4th Read Thoughts
So it’s deffo become a yearly reread! I love this book. Some stories just work their way into your life and become a great big comfort blanket. anemogram. does this for me. Always happy to revisit these characters and Tinker’s stories.
=============================
3rd Read Thoughts
With each reading I try to consider Sarah in a different light, fitting her into a different theory of who she is. It’s fun. I’ve decided who she is. A child on the run, surviving in whatever way she can. Desperate to remain hidden from the authorities. Authorities that failed her in the past. I continue to adore this story as a whole. That bittersweet ending gets me every time.
=============================
2nd Read Thoughts
It's just so good! I love it so much! It's in my top 5 favourite reads of all time.
=============================
1st Read Review
Hang on a second whilst I pick up the pieces of my mind off the floor. Let’s get this out of the way - I fell in love with this story. OMG THIS BOOK! This story brought me so much joy I. can’t. even. But I’ll try.
I’ve had this book on my tbr for a while, and I’m a tad annoyed that I waited so long to read it. For me, there are 2 types of 5 star reads. There are those stories that are technically good, have a strong story, have great writing and are actively pleasurable to read. Then, occasionally, a different kind of 5 star read pops up. One that has everything mentioned above, but goes further by reaching into my soul and latching on. The kind of story that I think about a lot. The kind where I actively (and maybe somewhat counterintuitively) slow down reading and appreciate the enjoyment I am having from being there with the characters. This is one of those stories.
anemogram. is the story of Rachel/Sarah and David. Sarah (as I shall call her from now on) comes out of the woods. She’s a little girl, aged 6, or maybe 7… or maybe older *inquisitive eyes*. She’s been fending for herself, finding food where she can, berries and the such. She has an imaginary friend, Tinker, that tells her bedtime stories. One day, she meets David. David is trudging through life after his wife has left him, moving away with his 2 kids. Instead of calling the authorities to come and deal with Sarah, he decides to take her under his wing. To give her some protection. He takes a few days off work and decides to go on a road trip with Sarah. They both agree that when David needs to return to work, they will part ways. During their trip an incident takes place that takes them on an unexpected path.
I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS! I love stories that leave me with questions. I like having questions. I like it when an author intentionally leaves enough clues around for me to decide what the truth of the situation is. It takes skill to craft a story that says so much between the lines. Gransden executes this skill perfectly in this.
Who is Sarah? This is a question that I think most readers of this will/did have from the start and the question lingers through the whole read. David finds himself trying to answer this. I found myself constantly trying to piece together the clues to answer this question. Is Sarah a lost girl on the run and managing in any way she can? Is she an angel, coming to those that need her? Is she a guiding spirit? Is she just a girl and little more? Or, is she something else other worldly?
She seems to guide people to places and moments of needing help. Sometimes in a more subtle way than others. For instance, there is a scene where David offers help to someone with filling their car with fuel. Did Sarah guide him to this point, did she want David to help this woman? Or is it simply that David helped someone and I’m thinking too much about it? Argh, that’s what this story did to me! At about 60% of the way through I thought I had figured out who Sarah is. On reflection, I think it was at this point that I decided what Sarah is, and therefore that’s what she became - to me. Gransden doesn’t give any clear answers here. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that’s the point. The question is not, Who or what is Sarah?’ The question is, Who or what is Sarah to me? This is not necessarily the story of discovering who she is, this is the story of the impact she has on David and you as the reader.
Who is Tinker? Tinker tells Sarah a few fairy tales. They are marvellous. Full of ‘WHAT THE FUCK?’ moments in the way any good fairy tale has. We are left with the question of whether Tinker really exists. Is he an imaginary friend Sarah created to help her get through those lonely moments at night, or is he real and choses to only show up when he is alone with Sarah? Tinker has a number of conversations with Sarah that made me feel there is more to this story than meets the eye. Again, Gransden gives us no concrete answers here.
Some other minor questions I have - Does A Woman Unbound by Owen Granger exist? I can’t find it anywhere. What is so special about Sarah’s dress? Why does she care for it so much? Did she get the dress in the same way she got the comb? What’s the deal with the dead frog scene? Who were John Waybridge and Ian Rider? What is this ‘FIGURE THINGS OUT’ that Tinker talks about several times?! I NEED to know. There are some other questions I have, but they contain minor spoilers.
This has some of the strongest descriptive writing I’ve ever read. Really, it was so easy for me to fall into the world and understand where we were at any point. I could easily visualise the setting and environment based on Gransden’s descriptions.
Even though the characters are intriguing with many questions around who or what they are, they also felt very real and relatable. David is a guy struggling with the need to be needed. Something I think we can all relate to on some level. Sarah has a few little quirks that made her adorable. She’s wise far beyond her years (part of the reason why I am sceptical about her age). She has a bit of quirk where she straightens her dress a lot. Little observations like this made her feel real.
I could not predict this plot. It’s not your typical three act set up - execution - climax story, but at no point does it feel chaotic or lost. We are taken on a journey with these two. A journey that involves some mundane aspects of life, like getting food (OMG there is so much eating in this), and watching TV, and taking naps. But because I was so invested into David and Sarah I was happy to go along with the journey. I wasn’t trying to predict how they were going to get to the end crescendo and this kept the story fresh for me. It kept me on my toes. It meant I could enjoy being in the moment rather than constantly looking ahead. I felt like anything could happen at any point. And OH BOY, THINGS HAPPEN!
Life and Death seem to come up a lot in a not so obvious way through this. I felt like Sarah was exploring life, how people live with one another but also death and what it means to die, and the impact one’s death may have on the world around them.
I get the feeling there are probably many little bits of significant metaphors throughout that I missed. When I do my inevitable reread I will be interested to see if I pick up on different things a second time around. This is a cerebral story in the greatest possible way. I tweeted that I found myself stopping after each chapter to have a moment of thought. Not in a ‘what is happening’ kind of way, but in a moment of pensive reflection. This story challenged me intellectually. There is an exploration of childhood innocence but with an uncomfortable underlying feeling of something not quite being right.
So it’s deffo become a yearly reread! I love this book. Some stories just work their way into your life and become a great big comfort blanket. anemogram. does this for me. Always happy to revisit these characters and Tinker’s stories.
=============================
3rd Read Thoughts
With each reading I try to consider Sarah in a different light, fitting her into a different theory of who she is. It’s fun. I’ve decided who she is. A child on the run, surviving in whatever way she can. Desperate to remain hidden from the authorities. Authorities that failed her in the past. I continue to adore this story as a whole. That bittersweet ending gets me every time.
=============================
2nd Read Thoughts
It's just so good! I love it so much! It's in my top 5 favourite reads of all time.
=============================
1st Read Review
Hang on a second whilst I pick up the pieces of my mind off the floor. Let’s get this out of the way - I fell in love with this story. OMG THIS BOOK! This story brought me so much joy I. can’t. even. But I’ll try.
I’ve had this book on my tbr for a while, and I’m a tad annoyed that I waited so long to read it. For me, there are 2 types of 5 star reads. There are those stories that are technically good, have a strong story, have great writing and are actively pleasurable to read. Then, occasionally, a different kind of 5 star read pops up. One that has everything mentioned above, but goes further by reaching into my soul and latching on. The kind of story that I think about a lot. The kind where I actively (and maybe somewhat counterintuitively) slow down reading and appreciate the enjoyment I am having from being there with the characters. This is one of those stories.
anemogram. is the story of Rachel/Sarah and David. Sarah (as I shall call her from now on) comes out of the woods. She’s a little girl, aged 6, or maybe 7… or maybe older *inquisitive eyes*. She’s been fending for herself, finding food where she can, berries and the such. She has an imaginary friend, Tinker, that tells her bedtime stories. One day, she meets David. David is trudging through life after his wife has left him, moving away with his 2 kids. Instead of calling the authorities to come and deal with Sarah, he decides to take her under his wing. To give her some protection. He takes a few days off work and decides to go on a road trip with Sarah. They both agree that when David needs to return to work, they will part ways. During their trip an incident takes place that takes them on an unexpected path.
I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS! I love stories that leave me with questions. I like having questions. I like it when an author intentionally leaves enough clues around for me to decide what the truth of the situation is. It takes skill to craft a story that says so much between the lines. Gransden executes this skill perfectly in this.
Who is Sarah? This is a question that I think most readers of this will/did have from the start and the question lingers through the whole read. David finds himself trying to answer this. I found myself constantly trying to piece together the clues to answer this question. Is Sarah a lost girl on the run and managing in any way she can? Is she an angel, coming to those that need her? Is she a guiding spirit? Is she just a girl and little more? Or, is she something else other worldly?
She seems to guide people to places and moments of needing help. Sometimes in a more subtle way than others. For instance, there is a scene where David offers help to someone with filling their car with fuel. Did Sarah guide him to this point, did she want David to help this woman? Or is it simply that David helped someone and I’m thinking too much about it? Argh, that’s what this story did to me! At about 60% of the way through I thought I had figured out who Sarah is. On reflection, I think it was at this point that I decided what Sarah is, and therefore that’s what she became - to me. Gransden doesn’t give any clear answers here. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that’s the point. The question is not, Who or what is Sarah?’ The question is, Who or what is Sarah to me? This is not necessarily the story of discovering who she is, this is the story of the impact she has on David and you as the reader.
Who is Tinker? Tinker tells Sarah a few fairy tales. They are marvellous. Full of ‘WHAT THE FUCK?’ moments in the way any good fairy tale has. We are left with the question of whether Tinker really exists. Is he an imaginary friend Sarah created to help her get through those lonely moments at night, or is he real and choses to only show up when he is alone with Sarah? Tinker has a number of conversations with Sarah that made me feel there is more to this story than meets the eye. Again, Gransden gives us no concrete answers here.
Some other minor questions I have - Does A Woman Unbound by Owen Granger exist? I can’t find it anywhere. What is so special about Sarah’s dress? Why does she care for it so much? Did she get the dress in the same way she got the comb? What’s the deal with the dead frog scene? Who were John Waybridge and Ian Rider? What is this ‘FIGURE THINGS OUT’ that Tinker talks about several times?! I NEED to know. There are some other questions I have, but they contain minor spoilers.
This has some of the strongest descriptive writing I’ve ever read. Really, it was so easy for me to fall into the world and understand where we were at any point. I could easily visualise the setting and environment based on Gransden’s descriptions.
Even though the characters are intriguing with many questions around who or what they are, they also felt very real and relatable. David is a guy struggling with the need to be needed. Something I think we can all relate to on some level. Sarah has a few little quirks that made her adorable. She’s wise far beyond her years (part of the reason why I am sceptical about her age). She has a bit of quirk where she straightens her dress a lot. Little observations like this made her feel real.
I could not predict this plot. It’s not your typical three act set up - execution - climax story, but at no point does it feel chaotic or lost. We are taken on a journey with these two. A journey that involves some mundane aspects of life, like getting food (OMG there is so much eating in this), and watching TV, and taking naps. But because I was so invested into David and Sarah I was happy to go along with the journey. I wasn’t trying to predict how they were going to get to the end crescendo and this kept the story fresh for me. It kept me on my toes. It meant I could enjoy being in the moment rather than constantly looking ahead. I felt like anything could happen at any point. And OH BOY, THINGS HAPPEN!
Life and Death seem to come up a lot in a not so obvious way through this. I felt like Sarah was exploring life, how people live with one another but also death and what it means to die, and the impact one’s death may have on the world around them.
I get the feeling there are probably many little bits of significant metaphors throughout that I missed. When I do my inevitable reread I will be interested to see if I pick up on different things a second time around. This is a cerebral story in the greatest possible way. I tweeted that I found myself stopping after each chapter to have a moment of thought. Not in a ‘what is happening’ kind of way, but in a moment of pensive reflection. This story challenged me intellectually. There is an exploration of childhood innocence but with an uncomfortable underlying feeling of something not quite being right.
July 5, 2016
Wow, this was a great read, though certainly not for everybody. It's really best to approach this story with zero expectations (even more so than with most stories). The author writes with a great deal of confidence, and has no interest in speaking down to her audience.
The prose is dreamy and beautiful and the story itself is too (with some nightmare thrown in as well). Another reviewer mentioned magical realism, and I can see how that fits. The story also reminded me of a David Lynch or Lars Von Trier film, and for some reason made me think of the recent Jonathan Glazer film Under the Skin.
It's kind of a difficult read but I mean that in the best way possible.
The prose is dreamy and beautiful and the story itself is too (with some nightmare thrown in as well). Another reviewer mentioned magical realism, and I can see how that fits. The story also reminded me of a David Lynch or Lars Von Trier film, and for some reason made me think of the recent Jonathan Glazer film Under the Skin.
It's kind of a difficult read but I mean that in the best way possible.
November 2, 2015
The world seen through the eyes of a child often looks like a fantasy world, which shows how far we have come as adults when the magical and mysterious become strange and confusing. We demand logic and linear progression. There is linear progression in anemogram - protagonists Sarah and David keep asking each other 'where to next' - but the linearity is unsettled by 7 yr. old Sarah's projections onto it through her conversations with Tinker.
A cursory consideration of Tinker would describe him/her as an imaginary friend, but as we read more of Sarah and her perception of the world around her, she might be interpreting the real as the imaginary, not vice versa. A world of dessicated frogs and stone ducks and chips and woodland...
Rebecca Gransden writes about the edge, but her work also inverts; the real becoming the imaginary, the child manipulating the adult, the threat dressed in white, beauty within the urban decay and construction. Like the border on a map, anemogram twists and writhes, running along the transition between two very different worlds: those of Sarah and David, and those of reader and character.
anemogram is an invitation to inhabit that mystery world of the child, the overlap between the imagination and reality. But where conventional fairy tales build houses out of sweets and everyone lives happily ever after, Sarah's world buries its dead and gets a soaking when it rains. To live happily ever after you have to walk through the deluge first.
A cursory consideration of Tinker would describe him/her as an imaginary friend, but as we read more of Sarah and her perception of the world around her, she might be interpreting the real as the imaginary, not vice versa. A world of dessicated frogs and stone ducks and chips and woodland...
Rebecca Gransden writes about the edge, but her work also inverts; the real becoming the imaginary, the child manipulating the adult, the threat dressed in white, beauty within the urban decay and construction. Like the border on a map, anemogram twists and writhes, running along the transition between two very different worlds: those of Sarah and David, and those of reader and character.
anemogram is an invitation to inhabit that mystery world of the child, the overlap between the imagination and reality. But where conventional fairy tales build houses out of sweets and everyone lives happily ever after, Sarah's world buries its dead and gets a soaking when it rains. To live happily ever after you have to walk through the deluge first.
October 2, 2015
Anemogram – Engaging, Eerie Mystery
All is mysterious in anemogram by Rebecca Gransden: the obscure/cryptic title (technically a graphical display of wind speed), the ghostlike protagonist, and the poetic writing and evolving story. Gransden employs Mystery to drag you into the protagonist’s journey. “She” is a roaming, young girl. Her history and motivations are unclear. Is she a human orphan? A sprite or spirit guide? Angel or devil? The wind itself? Whatever she is, it seems she is out to harvest stories from abject people, but it is equally possible she has chosen us the “reader” to engage.
It is a dark weird tale. The characterization is compelling; strangely, most of the revealing conversations occur during eating. There is a constant tension between innocence and impending darkness which is played expertly, and intellectual readers may consider this as a homage to the classic The Heavenly Christmas Tree by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (1876, available online via the Gutenburg project). Keeping this from a 5-star rating, is the denouement. With all the mystery presented, I did not expect to have all things explained, but I did expect more. The climax brings the right characters to the right place… and I really craved about one more chapter’s worth of the journey. This is an ambitious, well done debut novel. I look forward to more from Rebecca Gransden, especially if there is a follow up to anemogram. This is an excellent tale that will appeal to several genre readers: fantasy, mystery, thrillers.
Excerpt:
All is mysterious in anemogram by Rebecca Gransden: the obscure/cryptic title (technically a graphical display of wind speed), the ghostlike protagonist, and the poetic writing and evolving story. Gransden employs Mystery to drag you into the protagonist’s journey. “She” is a roaming, young girl. Her history and motivations are unclear. Is she a human orphan? A sprite or spirit guide? Angel or devil? The wind itself? Whatever she is, it seems she is out to harvest stories from abject people, but it is equally possible she has chosen us the “reader” to engage.
It is a dark weird tale. The characterization is compelling; strangely, most of the revealing conversations occur during eating. There is a constant tension between innocence and impending darkness which is played expertly, and intellectual readers may consider this as a homage to the classic The Heavenly Christmas Tree by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (1876, available online via the Gutenburg project). Keeping this from a 5-star rating, is the denouement. With all the mystery presented, I did not expect to have all things explained, but I did expect more. The climax brings the right characters to the right place… and I really craved about one more chapter’s worth of the journey. This is an ambitious, well done debut novel. I look forward to more from Rebecca Gransden, especially if there is a follow up to anemogram. This is an excellent tale that will appeal to several genre readers: fantasy, mystery, thrillers.
Excerpt:
“…she turned and headed across open wasteland, into the domain of the sun and its cherishing death. She bobbed up and down and held out her white dress, spinning and drawing in the warm air. Her legs were cherubim podgy and she moved like an electrified hamster. The wasteland contoured down a textured valley which in turn vaulted into the distance and away. She stood in its open magnificence, its blanched earth under the blue-white sky of God. Everything in the distance; she would play unseen. She left her giggles behind her as she took off running. The ground flattened like an ancient seabed and she took her little body over it. She forgot her feet as she chased her own arms down. The surrounding landscape stayed static and true as she fed her hunger for abandonment…”
November 16, 2015
What a lovely, surreal experience it was to read this unique and magical debut novel.
The writing is extraordinary and pulls you into the story, absorbed in the rhythm and atmosphere it creates. There are no "back stories" to the characters - how they are where they are at this point - which adds to the sense of the characters' detachment from the rest of the world.
After a few twists that I never expected, the ending is quite abrupt, leaving me wanting to know more ..... What will happen to David? Will Sarah return to him? Did Tinker leave or did Sarah choose to leave him? Aaaahhhh.
I'd love to see this made into a movie, although I don't think that the poignancy could be expressed physically as well as Rebecca has described. I look forward to reading more from this talented young lady.
The writing is extraordinary and pulls you into the story, absorbed in the rhythm and atmosphere it creates. There are no "back stories" to the characters - how they are where they are at this point - which adds to the sense of the characters' detachment from the rest of the world.
After a few twists that I never expected, the ending is quite abrupt, leaving me wanting to know more ..... What will happen to David? Will Sarah return to him? Did Tinker leave or did Sarah choose to leave him? Aaaahhhh.
I'd love to see this made into a movie, although I don't think that the poignancy could be expressed physically as well as Rebecca has described. I look forward to reading more from this talented young lady.
September 19, 2015
This book defies categories, like many original books do. Great characters, melty action. Sorry --that's the adjective that sprung to mind. Definitely a good read.
In parts it has the overhanging worry of suspense, even horror--but it builds that tension to a naturally felt crescendo. In other words, it feels like something that might happen to real people, not some hyper Hollywood script. I think what I like best about it is how randomly chosen the characters seem, truly like persons who just walked into each other's paths, stayed a while, and then haunted each other forever. It's a really cool effect, and never heavy handed. All the emotional points are running silently in the background, like a grotesque hiding in the corner of the mind's eye.
An amazing first novel that deserves attention.
In parts it has the overhanging worry of suspense, even horror--but it builds that tension to a naturally felt crescendo. In other words, it feels like something that might happen to real people, not some hyper Hollywood script. I think what I like best about it is how randomly chosen the characters seem, truly like persons who just walked into each other's paths, stayed a while, and then haunted each other forever. It's a really cool effect, and never heavy handed. All the emotional points are running silently in the background, like a grotesque hiding in the corner of the mind's eye.
An amazing first novel that deserves attention.
October 10, 2015
This was received for an honest review
When Gransden told me about her novella, we were talking about writing stuffs, she told me or maybe Leo did, I don’t remember, that she was releasing a novella. And the novella is called anemogram. and when I saw her blog, I realized just like the short story she sent me, that she was one of those abstract writers. Abstract as in, everything is a sort of mystery that can only be solved by inconsistent dreams that have come to you during the restless nights in small visions and it will maybe take you months to piece them together. It’s not a bad thing, it’s a great thing in my opinion, if everything was linear, everything in a traditional mold, then where does the innovation go? Where does the curiosity go? Since literature is an art form, you should be able to cut up the pieces and make Picasso paintings right?
I always I love when a surrealist novel takes place in quiet suburbia, I feel like it always brews better in those conditions. Something odd pops out of the bushes and terrorizes a quiet neighborhood that usually expects nothing. In this case, it’s this little girl that doesn’t really have an official origin, she appears out of nowhere. She seems to have manifested out of nature itself, as you read the novella, there’s plenty of vibrant imagery of Mother Nature’s creations. There’s also a voice in her head that accompanies her throughout the story, telling her fairy tales that all sort of surround the same theme, where something beautiful, eventually dies and there’s no way to get it back. (If this is wrong, I read this awhile ago, so it’s fuzzy.)
The girl pretends to be the daughter of a father who abandoned her due to dying in an accident or committing suicide. She hangs around a war veteran and eventually ends up living with his buddies and here’s the thing, they’re all hiding something and it involves doing things that are out of their moral bases, for example, one of the guys is a police officer.
And yet, the main character, this whimsical little girl is still a mystery. But I have a theory, the voice in her head is maybe her dead father and her way of coping and living is to be a sort of Peter Pan. Maybe, they both died and the girl lives on as something supernatural. Nobody questions oddities too much in this book.
anemogram. does what it wants best, to be abstract and leaving the reader numb with wonder. It contains the fantastical fairy tale elements that Helen Oyeyemi is known for, except it takes place in a small British town. It’s one of those fairytales with a quirky modern twist of the Sundance movie scene.
Rating: 4/5
Originally posted on Notes on the Shore
When Gransden told me about her novella, we were talking about writing stuffs, she told me or maybe Leo did, I don’t remember, that she was releasing a novella. And the novella is called anemogram. and when I saw her blog, I realized just like the short story she sent me, that she was one of those abstract writers. Abstract as in, everything is a sort of mystery that can only be solved by inconsistent dreams that have come to you during the restless nights in small visions and it will maybe take you months to piece them together. It’s not a bad thing, it’s a great thing in my opinion, if everything was linear, everything in a traditional mold, then where does the innovation go? Where does the curiosity go? Since literature is an art form, you should be able to cut up the pieces and make Picasso paintings right?
I always I love when a surrealist novel takes place in quiet suburbia, I feel like it always brews better in those conditions. Something odd pops out of the bushes and terrorizes a quiet neighborhood that usually expects nothing. In this case, it’s this little girl that doesn’t really have an official origin, she appears out of nowhere. She seems to have manifested out of nature itself, as you read the novella, there’s plenty of vibrant imagery of Mother Nature’s creations. There’s also a voice in her head that accompanies her throughout the story, telling her fairy tales that all sort of surround the same theme, where something beautiful, eventually dies and there’s no way to get it back. (If this is wrong, I read this awhile ago, so it’s fuzzy.)
The girl pretends to be the daughter of a father who abandoned her due to dying in an accident or committing suicide. She hangs around a war veteran and eventually ends up living with his buddies and here’s the thing, they’re all hiding something and it involves doing things that are out of their moral bases, for example, one of the guys is a police officer.
And yet, the main character, this whimsical little girl is still a mystery. But I have a theory, the voice in her head is maybe her dead father and her way of coping and living is to be a sort of Peter Pan. Maybe, they both died and the girl lives on as something supernatural. Nobody questions oddities too much in this book.
anemogram. does what it wants best, to be abstract and leaving the reader numb with wonder. It contains the fantastical fairy tale elements that Helen Oyeyemi is known for, except it takes place in a small British town. It’s one of those fairytales with a quirky modern twist of the Sundance movie scene.
Rating: 4/5
Originally posted on Notes on the Shore
March 28, 2016
(Reprinted from the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com]. I am the original author of this essay, as well as the owner of CCLaP; it is not being reprinted illegally.)
For what it's worth, I appreciate the ambitiously poetic goals that Rebecca Gransden was aiming for in her experimental novel anemogram; set in an undated future where something is wrong with the world but is never explained, we learn about this alt-future wasteland through the eyes of a precocious little girl, sort of like The Road meets Beasts of the Southern Wilds. The problem, though, is that such minimalistic, character-heavy prose needs to be used with a light touch, and especially with genre novels needs to be paired with a particularly strong plot where either a lot happens or at least there's a rich universe to explore; but while Gransden certainly does a great job with the "adorable girl" part of "adorable girl wanders around the apocalypse," she almost entirely forgets the "apocalypse" part, setting her story in such vague circumstances that we can barely figure out what's going on, and with so little transpiring that the entire book basically boils down to "girl wanders in the woods, girl has conversation about nothing with random stranger, girl wanders in the woods, girl has conversation about nothing with random stranger," etc. I'm all for bold experiments in style and prose, especially within the context of usually tired genres like post-apocalyptic stories; but without at least a token adherence to the basics of good three-act storytelling, what you essentially have is a 200-page prose poem, fine for what it is but certainly not the book I signed up for when reading the dust jacket. It comes with a limited recommendation today, just for those of you most into precious stylistic experimentation within narrative stories that deliberately make little sense.
Out of 10: 7.5, or 9.0 for fans of prose-poetry
For what it's worth, I appreciate the ambitiously poetic goals that Rebecca Gransden was aiming for in her experimental novel anemogram; set in an undated future where something is wrong with the world but is never explained, we learn about this alt-future wasteland through the eyes of a precocious little girl, sort of like The Road meets Beasts of the Southern Wilds. The problem, though, is that such minimalistic, character-heavy prose needs to be used with a light touch, and especially with genre novels needs to be paired with a particularly strong plot where either a lot happens or at least there's a rich universe to explore; but while Gransden certainly does a great job with the "adorable girl" part of "adorable girl wanders around the apocalypse," she almost entirely forgets the "apocalypse" part, setting her story in such vague circumstances that we can barely figure out what's going on, and with so little transpiring that the entire book basically boils down to "girl wanders in the woods, girl has conversation about nothing with random stranger, girl wanders in the woods, girl has conversation about nothing with random stranger," etc. I'm all for bold experiments in style and prose, especially within the context of usually tired genres like post-apocalyptic stories; but without at least a token adherence to the basics of good three-act storytelling, what you essentially have is a 200-page prose poem, fine for what it is but certainly not the book I signed up for when reading the dust jacket. It comes with a limited recommendation today, just for those of you most into precious stylistic experimentation within narrative stories that deliberately make little sense.
Out of 10: 7.5, or 9.0 for fans of prose-poetry
September 13, 2016
This dreamlike mystery filled with beautiful imagery and lyrical expressionism comes from a writer with a powerful voice who consistently uncovers poetry and wonder in the everyday. Parts of Anemogram read like a dream diary, where the dream slowly becomes more and more unsettling and you become filled with apprehension at where the story is heading. You're never sure which of these enigmatic but entirely empathetic characters' are who they say they are; their motivations are shrouded in a mystery that builds slowly as the tone shifts from an urban Grimm's Fairy-tale full of abstractions and illusions into the hostile and banal neon-junk-foodscape of the 'real world'. You'll find you start turning the pages ever more quickly as the narrative builds to a climax in the final few pages and you gradually put together the pieces of the puzzle to form a realisation of what you have witnessed.
This evocative and haunting fable works its way under your skin and sticks with you for a long time after it ends.
This evocative and haunting fable works its way under your skin and sticks with you for a long time after it ends.
September 11, 2015
Anemogram was a unique story about a strange little girl who befriends a kind of lost soul. It had me gripped and questioning within the first few chapters. Gransden's ability to setup a world, to draw you in was fantastic. The book really gets going about half-way and by then, I was flying through the chapters, compelled to read on and find out what this Sarah was up to. What an interesting and strange character she was and her relationship with David was impressively told with witty and often humorous dialogue. I have to admit, I was left slightly confused at the end and I look forward to some of the authors comments regarding it. Apart from that one slight niggle, I would certainly recommend it and as a story, it was told brilliantly and kept me engaged throughout.
September 14, 2015
anemogram. was something of a mystery to me as I read it. The setting seemed surreal and almost apocalyptic as I moved forward, and the characters seemed detached from the real world. For the first bit I didn't quite know what to think, but eventually, it all started coming together.
Once the story gets moving, anemogram. starts to shine. Rebecca's true knack at writing is in vivid descriptions, of both physical things and emotional states.
I'm not quite sure what genre this book would fall in to, but it was an enjoyable read throughout. I'd recommend it to fans of (urban?) fantasy books and those that like their books to put them into a unique environment!
***I received a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review***
Once the story gets moving, anemogram. starts to shine. Rebecca's true knack at writing is in vivid descriptions, of both physical things and emotional states.
I'm not quite sure what genre this book would fall in to, but it was an enjoyable read throughout. I'd recommend it to fans of (urban?) fantasy books and those that like their books to put them into a unique environment!
***I received a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review***
August 31, 2015
Gransden's writing creates a wonderfully lush sense of atmosphere, where the pull of a place seeps just under your skin, and the sense of danger and uncertainty scratch continually at your emotional door. We humans have a way of connecting through our stories and the young protagonist (Sarah) in this book seeks out the tales of strangers as a matter of survival. Despite her seeming innocence, something larger hides behind Sarah's tiny facade, a darkness barely restrained.
I hope this debut novel marks a beautiful start to more of Gransden's writing made public!
I hope this debut novel marks a beautiful start to more of Gransden's writing made public!
August 13, 2016
This is quite a special book! Filled with metaphors. A tale of a rather wonderful relationship, with genuine heart to it. A rare relationship with no agendas.
The little girl, Sarah (for the fleeting glimpse we see, her name is Sarah anyway) is such an old soul in a young body. Wise enough to know, that in a world focused almost solely on outward appearances, that if she keeps her dress clean, no-one will ever suspect!
I really enjoyed it, a great twist and some funny and poignant moments. I would've read it just for the little stories told to Sarah by her imaginary friend!
The little girl, Sarah (for the fleeting glimpse we see, her name is Sarah anyway) is such an old soul in a young body. Wise enough to know, that in a world focused almost solely on outward appearances, that if she keeps her dress clean, no-one will ever suspect!
I really enjoyed it, a great twist and some funny and poignant moments. I would've read it just for the little stories told to Sarah by her imaginary friend!
October 11, 2016
Surreal feelings and moments described in a way that made me feel as if I was able to touch an excerpt, a moment in time, something from my past! Can you imagine reading a sentence and it makes you feel like you’re taken back 10+ years to an event which you can pull back into current day and rub it in between your fingers, and look at it with a set of different eyes?
The children were over. Slack whispers curled around awkward noises. A park bench gleamed doom hibiscus dosages. One sat prostrate and happy, the other forlorn and weeping.
The writing in this book is unique and original. It will appeal to those who love heavy and authentic prose. Even though the story was like an episode of fever induced hallucinations, where many questions will never be answered, I truly did love how the descriptions felt so very real. The way I have felt them, the way we all feel them. It was the small detail of life that impact all our senses which we tend to overlook in every day lives that Rebecca managed to put on paper. I keep trying to define how reading anemogram. felt but I can’t seem to come up with a coherent way to describe. Take a strange dream of blocks and circles and smells and sounds and make them all 3D material with yourself in the centre, seeing and making sense of everything.
Yes, the whole book is not through and through trippy. There’s a storyline which David and Sarah follow, but the in between moments just stood out the most for me.
The centre of the story is a little girl. Her name is Rachel. Then her name is Sarah. She is appears alone in this world and she is wearing a white dress. The setting is England- forest, city, abandoned sites.
Like for many other readers, the little girl remains a mystery to me. Who is she? What’s her story? At times I expected to read how she returns home and the whole chain of events was like an adventure, a mischievous child returning from exploring. This is not how the story goes however… She was real, yet felt angelic. She was young, yet came across wise beyond her years. Was she innocent? Was she evil? So many questions…
David, a middle aged man… his wife and kids are gone from him, to another country. He has a job, but he is lonely. His existence a mere routine. He will never know how his life changes when he decides to take the little girl under his protection.
He never washed his hands. Today he would. He would not sit in front of Sarah with dick on his hands, eating a burger and fries. She’s had enough dirt in her life and so had he.
And then… There’s Tinker… Tinker is Sarah’s imaginary friend, advisor and bedtime story teller. Tinker’s bedtime stories to Sarah are really rather… imaginative and without a doubt unconventional. I enjoyed Tinker’s existence. Tinker put me on the fence… was he helping Sarah, or is he really the impending doom?
She drank some more. He’s slippery, Tinker said. He knows that you’re after him. She tapped the mug with her nail, making a dull porcelain ring. One, two, three. The hunger rose throughout her body. If she had been alone she would have allowed a tear to release the frustration. She recognized Mungo, saw his makeup. She couldn’t be anything he wanted, he would not be moulded, he would have to go.
My rating: 3***- I liked it. Rebecca’s debut novel does not disappoint. I would suggest this to anyone who likes a story where conclusions aren’t delivered on black-on-white. A story where the line in between real and not so real appears fuzzy. Unexpected behaviour of characters was one thing that turned this book into a surprise for me.
The children were over. Slack whispers curled around awkward noises. A park bench gleamed doom hibiscus dosages. One sat prostrate and happy, the other forlorn and weeping.
The writing in this book is unique and original. It will appeal to those who love heavy and authentic prose. Even though the story was like an episode of fever induced hallucinations, where many questions will never be answered, I truly did love how the descriptions felt so very real. The way I have felt them, the way we all feel them. It was the small detail of life that impact all our senses which we tend to overlook in every day lives that Rebecca managed to put on paper. I keep trying to define how reading anemogram. felt but I can’t seem to come up with a coherent way to describe. Take a strange dream of blocks and circles and smells and sounds and make them all 3D material with yourself in the centre, seeing and making sense of everything.
Yes, the whole book is not through and through trippy. There’s a storyline which David and Sarah follow, but the in between moments just stood out the most for me.
The centre of the story is a little girl. Her name is Rachel. Then her name is Sarah. She is appears alone in this world and she is wearing a white dress. The setting is England- forest, city, abandoned sites.
Like for many other readers, the little girl remains a mystery to me. Who is she? What’s her story? At times I expected to read how she returns home and the whole chain of events was like an adventure, a mischievous child returning from exploring. This is not how the story goes however… She was real, yet felt angelic. She was young, yet came across wise beyond her years. Was she innocent? Was she evil? So many questions…
David, a middle aged man… his wife and kids are gone from him, to another country. He has a job, but he is lonely. His existence a mere routine. He will never know how his life changes when he decides to take the little girl under his protection.
He never washed his hands. Today he would. He would not sit in front of Sarah with dick on his hands, eating a burger and fries. She’s had enough dirt in her life and so had he.
And then… There’s Tinker… Tinker is Sarah’s imaginary friend, advisor and bedtime story teller. Tinker’s bedtime stories to Sarah are really rather… imaginative and without a doubt unconventional. I enjoyed Tinker’s existence. Tinker put me on the fence… was he helping Sarah, or is he really the impending doom?
She drank some more. He’s slippery, Tinker said. He knows that you’re after him. She tapped the mug with her nail, making a dull porcelain ring. One, two, three. The hunger rose throughout her body. If she had been alone she would have allowed a tear to release the frustration. She recognized Mungo, saw his makeup. She couldn’t be anything he wanted, he would not be moulded, he would have to go.
My rating: 3***- I liked it. Rebecca’s debut novel does not disappoint. I would suggest this to anyone who likes a story where conclusions aren’t delivered on black-on-white. A story where the line in between real and not so real appears fuzzy. Unexpected behaviour of characters was one thing that turned this book into a surprise for me.
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