Orchid & the Wasp

by Caoilinn Hughes

Orchid & the Wasp brings to life the charged, compulsive voice of Gael Foess – daughter of a self-interested investment banker and a once-formidable orchestral conductor, and sister to a vulnerable younger brother – as she strives to build a life raft in the midst of economic and familial collapse. Moving by wits alone, Gael cuts a swathe through the leather-lined, coke-dusted social clubs of London, the New York gallery scene and birth-throes of the Occupy movement.

Written in heart-stoppingly vivid prose, Orchid & the Wasp is a modern-day Bildungsroman that chews through sexuality, class and contemporary politics and crackles with joyful fury and anarchic gall. It examines how we can fail our loved ones by what we want for them; what makes for a good life; what we are owed and what we must earn; and how events in our lives can turn us into people we never intended to be.

A first novel of astonishing talent, Orchid & the Wasp announces Caoilinn Hughes as one of the most exciting literary writers working today.

Genres: Fiction, Ireland, Contemporary, Irish Literature, Literary Fiction, Family, Audiobook

352 pages, Hardcover

First published June 7, 2018

About the author

Caoilinn Hughes is the author of THE WILD LAUGHTER (2020), which won the Royal Society of Literature's Encore Award and was longlisted for the Dylan Thomas Prize. Her first novel, ORCHID & THE WASP (2018) won the Collyer Bristow Prize and was longlisted for the International Dublin Literary Award. Her short stories have won the Irish Book Awards' Story of the Year, The Moth Short Story Prize, and an O.Henry Prize. She was recently Oscar Wilde Writer Fellow at Trinity College Dublin and a Cullman Center Fellow at New York Public Library. THE ALTERNATIVES (Riverhead/Oneworld 2024) is her third novel.

Reviews

[Jennifer ~ TarHeelReader · Rating 4 out of 5]

4 stars to the character study, Orchid & the Wasp! ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Gael Foss is at the center of Orchid & the Wasp, and the book follows her life from middle childhood through early adulthood. Gael and her younger brother, Guthrie, are living in Dublin with their parents who are very focused on their careers and not necessarily the family or the children.

Guthrie is needy. He has somatic complaints that turn into genuine illness, and Gael is protective of him and parents him more than their actual mother and father. I enjoyed this softer side of Gael, when it comes to her brother, because she has some sharp edges, too, and I think she is forced to harden because of her parents’ lack of availability, physically and emotionally. Her father left the family when the economy crashed in 2008. His leaving causes her mother to be even less available than she was before.

Gael is smart and worldly, and she takes advantage of others. As she becomes an adult, her manipulation of others is on a much larger scale.

Orchid & the Wasp is filled with heavier language and is engaging to analyze. When I dug deep into the lovely, but dark, writing, I found messages related to morality, ambition, mental health, and religion. Gael is formidable and intense, and the Orchid & the Wasp is her in depth character study.

p.s. I adore that cover!

Thank you to Crown Publishing and Hogarth Books for the ARC. Orchid & the Wasp will be published on July 10, 2018.

My reviews can also be found on my blog: www.jennifertarheelreader.com

[Peter · Rating 3 out of 5]

Episodic
Caoilinn Hughes has written a character-rich, poetic story that somehow left me feeling slightly underwhelmed and searching for meaning. The title refers to the metaphor of the Orchid and the Wasp as an assemblage, a de-territorialisation and re-territorialisation between an orchid and a wasp, as defined by Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari. The hypothesis is that they each depend so much on the other, they start to redefine their beings. I kept trying, unsuccessfully, to recognise that metaphor in the story.

The main protagonist is Gael Foess, and we follow her from age 11, living in Dublin with her brother Guthrie, and her Mum and Dad. One Orchid-Wasp association could be with Gael and Guthrie, but that didn’t really fit even though she is determined and committed to ensuring Guthrie lives the life 'she' deems fit and Guthrie needs her. Gael is an intelligent, articulate, opinionated and dislikeable child, characteristics that live with her into adulthood. She moves to London for her University degree and New York to pursue her avaricious career in the art world. Perhaps the Orchid-Wasp assemblage is Gael and her art-world career. Possibly the lines start to blur as art absorbs corruption and corruption finds a route through art. She operates alongside beautiful inspiring art while also stealing, manipulating and conning people and situations around her, no longer able to delineate between them.

Guthrie is a frail and reserved boy one year younger than Gael. He has seizures and the family convince him it’s a result of epilepsy, treating him with placebo drugs in order to hide the real diagnosis of a somatic delusional disorder. The novel progresses in time periods, years apart, and the story goes into great depth with topics and issues that are sometimes interesting and sometimes ramble. Guthrie’s illness is ultimately used as leverage by his opportunist sister and the big plan is enacted.

There is no doubt that Caoilinn is a superb author and her writing skills are destined for prize-winning recognition. In nearly every page, there is prose you want to highlight and return to again and again, and wish you had thought. Put together in a book, I just didn’t feel it was engaging, cohesive and evolving, which is a strange paradox.

Many thanks to Oneworld Publications and NetGalley, for an ARC version of the book in return for an honest review.

[Meike · Rating 4 out of 5]

Winner of the Collyer Bristow Prize for Debut Fiction 2019
This wonderful Irish novel shines with its complex, contradictory characters - none of them are purely good or bad, and all of them fail gloriously to live up to their self-image. In a wild story that discusses philosophical concepts like freedom, love and respect, we join Gael, a young woman trying to navigate a world she experiences as random and amoral while doing everything in her power to help her family - but is what she perceives as desirable also what the people she loves want for themselves?

As kids, Gael and her brother Guthrie experience their parents' divorce, which (and I strongly disagree with some other reviewers here) apparently cannot be blamed on only one side: The mother, a free-spirited orchestra conductor, has been travelling a lot and only had kids because of the father's politicial ambitions ("politicians have families"); the father, on the other hand, is a banker who judges people based on their abilities - and we are only talking about abilities that are venerated by modern capitalist society. When they break up, the mother spirals into a depression - and when Guthrie, who suffers from psychosomatic fits which he interprets as religious epiphanies, finally becomes a teenage father of twins, the financial pressure on the family mounts. Gael aims to build a business career and help her loved ones, spending time in London and finally New York where she sets out to stage an epic con job while using both the Plaza Hotel and Occupy Wall Street for her purposes.

Apart from the well-drawn characters, it's the narrative voice that stands out: Gael is quick and smart, and while she certainly isn't always right (which is the whole point with all of the people we encounter), she is always entertaining. Guthrie's reserved and contemplative way of speaking, on the other hand, often reveals truths Gael is unable to see - the quiet strength of this character (whom you could describe as eccentric or devout, depending on your point of view) will become clearer and clearer as the story progresses.

At the heart of it, Gael is trying to come to terms with the fact that the world is unjust, that opportunities and abilities are not fairly distributed, by (not unlike the father she criticizes harshly) pushing the boundaries as far as possible - and she pays the price. In contrast to that, Guthrie intends to see the good in what he has, which doesn't mean that he doesn't suffer, that he doesn't dream of something more. Maybe the dignity is in the strife, and love requires to learn how to understand and respect the strife of others.

Yes, the book also has some flaws (especially the slightly uneven pacing, and the reader certainly has to be willing to suspend disbelief a couple of times), but this is a complex, intelligent and captivating story. I can't wait to read whatever Hughes writes next.

[Gumble's Yard - Golden Reviewer · Rating 4 out of 5]

“What I do, Gael, has taught me something no university on the planet could have had on syllabus. And that is we have a simple choice to make. Do we aspire to have worth and influence and risk tragedy; or do we aspire towards love and togetherness and risk that it won’t have been enough. You can’t have both aspirations equally weighted.”

Gael couldn’t respond to this. She didn’t know what he was asking …. [she] stood up .. and Jarleth held out his arms for a hug. But Gael felt that there was a contract in the hug and she hadn’t read the fine print.

Caolinn Hughes is an award winning poet – and this is her debut novel; published in the UK by the independent publisher Oneworld Publications (remarkably winners of the Booker Prize in 2015 and 2016).

The book is narrated in the first person by Gael Foess – over a 10 year period from 2002 (when Gael is 12) to 2011. It chronicles her life in Dublin, London and New York over that time and her interactions with her immediate family (her father Jarleth – an investment banker, her mother Sive an orchestral conductor and her enigmatic and ethereal slightly younger brother Guthrie). It is set against a background of the fallout of the economic crisis of 2008 (including the fall of the Celtic Tiger and the Occupy movement in New York) and of the New York modern art scene.

Gael is a compelling and memorable female protagonist. We first meet her in an opening set piece trying to set up a business of persuading school girls to break their hymens and then buy supplies of blood “virginity” capsules from her, an act which leads to her and (by association) Guthrie being expelled from their school.

Guthrie suffers from a particular form of Somatic Delusional Disorder whereby he believes he suffers from epilepsy and, to the frustration of his driven, careerist father, reins in his life ambitions as a result of self-induced fits. Sive is equally driven in her career but she and Jarleth (never married and in an open relationship) split in 2008, Jarleth moving to London where he is followed by Gael who goes to college there and forms a relationship with her roommate Harper and Sive losing her orchestral position. Guthrie at a young age becomes the single father of twins.

Gael’s early virginity pills scam sets the pattern for her life. She is a self-willed force of nature, someone who does not so much break the rules as simply and casually change the rules to suit her and her ends and whose sheer self-believe enables her to deceive those around her who she views simply as means to those end.

Those ends, at least as she sees them, are reacting against the money-driven, single-mindedness of her father and furthering the careers of her mother (she attempts to get her orchestral roles and to have some of her compositions played by major authors) and the fortunes of her brother (travelling to New York to sell paintings he draws immediately after his ecstatic fits and hype him as a major international modern artist).

However Gael seems to be suffering from her own delusions. Her efforts are not fully appreciated by either her mother or brother. I was reminded somewhat of Jane Austen’s Emma – a feisty, opinionated and manipulative – while still attractive – character whose efforts to assist others are so often counterproductive.

Further it seemed clear to this observer that much of her apparent reaction against Jarleth is actually a acceptance of his beliefs – for example that money can solve all problems (he tells her the Parable of the Talents when she is young – and clearly takes it as a literal exhortation to use your natural gifts or start in life to make money) and later reminds her

“You were only twelve” Jarleth says, “maybe younger when I told you to memorise a maxim about the art of business. Do you recall it. I told you: commit it to memory and return to it later to see if it pans out.” Gael looked at her father’s loosened tie the way she had done as a child when she needed the special focus he demands of you. “Business is the art of extracting money from another man’s pocked without reverting to violence”

I felt the strongest parts of the book were three set pieces when Gael comes up against institutional male power: London Business School interviewer (after she has blagged her way to an unlikely MBA interview); US Customs official (trying to explain the paintings she is carrying are not imported goods, as well as her lack of a flight home); policeman (after she is arrested at the Occupy protests for fighting with Harper – all three confrontations ending surprisingly even.

In the Acknowledgements Hughes says that “Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari’s concept of the orchid and the wasp inspired this book.

I found some details of this concept on the internet, for example under https://groundcondition.files.wordpre...

“How could movements of deterritorialization and processes of reterritorialization not be relative, always connected, caught up in one another? The orchid deterritorializes by forming an image, a tracing a wasp; but the wasp reterritorializes on that image. The wasp is nevertheless deterritorialized, becoming a piece in the orchid’s reproductive apparatus. But it reterritorializes the orchid by transporting its pollen. Wasp and orchid, as heterogeneous elements, form a rhizome …………. A becoming-wasp of the orchid and a becoming-orchid of the wasp.”

My interpretation is that Gael and Jarleth form this orchid-wasp interaction.

Gael simultaneously reacts against her father’s values and moves away from him, but uses his ideas to achieve her own values and further circles back to him (in both London and New York she moves there after Jarleth – the first knowingly the second unknowingly) – and clearly Gael undergoes something of a becoming-Jarleth (although it is less clear that Jarleth in any way has a becoming-Gael).

Explaining her ageing and dementia suffering Father’s increasingly difficult behaviour, Sive tells Gael

People get locked into one mode …… related to how they were, or what their profession was, but tangentially. If someone was a social butterfly, they might get stuck in that loop, where you can’t get off the subject of arrival and departure and what’s to eat and drink and where are the napkins, or others maybe their thought-rut will be dirtier, darker. And it’s a horrible shock for people who knew them. It makes sense an actuary’s default state would be one of suspicion

It is perhaps as an actuary then that my default state with any debut novel which comes with such high praise, is one of suspicion that the book can be as good as the hype.

However there is no doubt that Caolinn Hughes is an exceptional talent and has produced a remarkable protagonist.

[Liz Barnsley · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a beautiful literary novel with one of the most powerful character voices I’ve seen in a while. Hugely likely to be a divisive character, Orchid and the Wasp follows Gael Foess, as she rockets through life, sure of herself but also losing parts of herself to her determination to help her brother, even when he doesn’t really want to be helped.

This is a story with a rich, vivid sense of place and character sense of self. I found Gael hard to love on occasion but got completely immersed into her world, she is pushy, clever, deceptive and always always intriguing. This is a story about how we push and push those we love, pull and pull at our own self worth, sometimes breaking that which we seek to fix. Gael doesn’t see her vulnerability she is proud and accomplished and knows what she is doingbut we, the reader, see the cracks and the breaks in her facade.

The backdrop of the gallery scene and the Occupy movement is a compelling one and Caoilinn Hughes describes it all with an edgy, intense and powerful prose, allows Gael to lead us through it with a gripping, almost quietly observant style – so you live this novel through the beautiful writing and the emotionally skittish character voice.

I loved it although I can see it won’t be for everyone – the language is modern, cool and unique, there is a huge talent here at work and I can’t wait to see what this author does next.

I’m sorry to leave Gael behind.

Recommended.

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

Gael Foess, the antiheroine of Caoilinn Hughes’ debut novel, is a trickster. When we first meet her in Dublin in 2002, the 11-year-old is promptly kicked out of school for trying to sell other girls “virginity pills.” As the years pass we see her con her way into a London Business School interview, self-assuredly teach a literature class when her professor doesn’t show up, pretend to be a journalist to get an exclusive interview, and use deception to try to boost the careers of both her mother, Sive (a conductor), and her younger brother, Guthrie (a painter and single dad). In the title metaphor, which refers to an orchid species that lures pollinating wasps, Gael is the seductive flower that gets what it wants. We’re also invited to think of her, with that typically Gael-ic name, as an incarnation of mythological Irish hero Cúchulainn.

The novel spans about nine years: a politically turbulent decade that opens with Iraq War protests and closes with the Occupy movement in New York City. The financial crisis temporarily jolts Gael and Guthrie’s father, Jarleth, a high-flying Barclays banker who leaves the family in 2008. The biblical parable of the talents, which he recounted to Gael when she was a little girl, comes back to resonate: It’s a potent reminder that money and skills don’t get distributed fairly in this life. When Gael gets to New York in 2011, she plans to redress the balance in two paradoxical ways: living in the Occupy camp and taking part in protests; and secretly earning her brother a fortune on his modern art. For even while decrying her father’s privilege, she indulges her own love of fine things; she aspires to be in the 1%, too.

With all her contradictions, Gael is an unforgettable character. I also found Guthrie fascinating. It was serendipitous that I read this novel alongside Suzanne O’Sullivan’s new book, Brainstorm. Guthrie was a mystically religious child and suffered from seizures, which doctors determined weren’t due to epilepsy but to somatic delusions – psychological rather than physiological. The seizures, ironically, became a boon because they inspire his art: “they’re hallowed and each aura is an absolution – a benison – and not just a synaptic blip.”

Hughes is wonderfully adept at voices, bringing secondary characters to life largely through how they speak. I especially warmed to Art, Sive’s boyfriend, who’s a Yorkshireman; and Harper, Gael’s OCD-plagued flatmate from Las Vegas. Even a brief run-in with American officialdom gets the perfect deadpan rendering: “United States Customs has no interest in surprises. Matter of fact, we hate surprises.” The novel often has a frenetic pace – an energy that’s well matched by the virtuosic use of language, with wordplay, neologisms, and metaphors drawn from art, music and nature. An orchestra is compared to a flock of starlings; a despondent Sive “began to resemble a bass clef.” The Irish are like radishes: “Pink on the outside, white underneath. Speck of mud on their cheeks.” Harper’s entire upbringing is pithily reduced to an “only-childhood of sprinkler weather, window glare and doughnut glazing.” I also loved this tiny poem of a phrase: “sobbing hampers syntax.” (Hughes is also a published poet.)

My only real misgiving about the novel is the ending: After Gael comes back from New York, things sort of fizzle out. I even wondered if the story line could have stopped a chapter earlier. But in a way it makes sense to get no tidy closure for our protagonist. Gael is still only 20 years old at the book’s end, so it’s no surprise that she remains a restless wanderer. I certainly wouldn’t object to hearing about her further adventures in a sequel. Hughes is an exciting writer who has rightfully attracted a lot of buzz for her debut, and this is sure to be one of my novels of the year. It’s a perfect follow-on read from Tom Rachman’s The Italian Teacher, and I’d also recommend it highly to fans of Sweetbitter, The Art of Fielding, The Nix, and The Life and Death of Sophie Stark. Watch out for it.

Originally published, with images, on my blog, Bookish Beck.

[Joy D · Rating 3 out of 5]

Protagonist Gael Foess is a member of a dysfunctional family. She is a hard-edged narcissist who thinks she knows what is best for everyone and is not afraid to go after it. She follows through on many audacious ideas in an attempt to “help” her family members, though one wonders if it is really a form of control.

Gael’s brother experiences seizures and turns to art to capture his feelings. Her mother is a symphonic composer and conductor who never wanted children. Her father is a wealthy investment banker with rigid and judgmental views. In trying to distance herself from her father, Gael becomes more like him. It is set mostly in 2008-2011 in Dublin, London, and New York, with the economic depression and Occupy Wall Street movement as a backdrop.

This is a character-driven novel with art as one of the primary topics, so it seemed at first glance like something I would enjoy. The author is certainly talented, and I appreciate her expressive writing. However, it was hard to get past the plot holes. For example, oil paintings do not dry in a few days and the gallery reps would surely have noticed. Gael does not learn anything from her experiences, and it is hard to believe she is fully formed at such a young age, so it is hard to care about what happens to her. The writing is strong, but it seemed like a chore to finish it.

[Katie B · Rating 2 out of 5]

I thought for sure when I read the synopsis it would be right up my alley but unfortunately I just never felt a connection with this book. I normally love books that explore family dynamics throughout the years and having most of the story take place in Ireland should have been an added bonus but I was bored for just about the entire book. I was never able to care about Gael or her family or what happened to them. Disappointing because I think the author does have talent, but this just wasn't a good fit for me.

Thank you to First to Read for the opportunity to read an advance digital copy!

[MisterHobgoblin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Orchid and the Wasp is a completely character driven novel. We spend ten or so years in the company of Gael Foess, a smart, sassy Irish girl growing up through the rise and fall of the Celtic Tiger. We open with Gael as an 11 year old girl selling “virginity” pills to her school friends to restore their hymens. Whether they work or not is immaterial – they work for Gael.

Then we meet Gael’s immediate family, her father Jarlath, a senior banker with Barclays, and her mother Sive, an internationally renowned orchestral conductor. Gael’s brother Guthrie is a delicate boy who is bullied at school. Gael seems to draw strength from her parents’ expectations, Guthrie seems to have given up trying.

Gael, like so many of her Gaelic ancestors, sets off to seek her fortune first in England and then in New York. Although she never takes success for granted, she displays no fear of failure. She is willing to blag, cheat and blackmail her way to the top. She’s like a computer gamer, wanting to get off to the fastest start possible or die in the attempt. She is willing to bet her last cent on an outside chance - she’s not even gambling on red and black, she’s putting her chips on the numbers. Except she knows the House has the edge, so she has to become the House.

There is a plot; it’s based on art and it only really starts half way through the book. Up until that point it is all just establishing the scene. While that happens, the reader may wonder whether it is going anywhere at all – the answer is oh yes, it certainly is!

But the plot is not the selling point. It’s the sidetracks within sidetracks. The romance with Harper, the start of the Occupy movement, the bohemian art forger. It is a comic delight in the same vein as The Sellout and Joshua Ferris. There are witty references and word games aplenty.

And at the end, the reader realises that Gael is not the grotesque and greedy figure we first imagined. Yes, she is a complete con artist. But only because she enjoys the conning; the rewards are incidental and can be given away lightly. We love her for it, but deep down we know that it is not a sustainable business model. Gael is Ireland, born of the earls and the Sidhe, her heart is captured by a Harp, her future uncertain but the present day is a gas.

Orchid and the Wasp is a fabulous novel and must be one of the best of 2018. It deserves to win prizes. Booker, anyone?

[Paula Bardell-Hedley · Rating 4 out of 5]

We meet eleven-year-old Gael Foess and her younger brother Guthrie, the children of wealthy but aloof parents (Jarleth, an arrogant and controlling investment banker for Barclays, and Sive, a self-absorbed but gifted principal conductor of the National Symphony Orchestra) at the point when she is expelled from primary school for running a business flogging “virgin pills” to her classmates.

The story begins in 2002, at the tail-end of the first Celtic Tiger – a period lasting from the mid nineties to the very early noughties when the Republic of Ireland enjoyed rapid economic growth fuelled by foreign investment, which led to a property price bubble. The financial boom brought on a period of fervid spending as Ireland became one of the richest countries in Western Europe and disposable income soared. Now Gael's family, like the Irish economy, is crumbling about her.

Gael is fiercely intelligent, shockingly precocious and very funny, but her witty banter masks a profound anxiety over the future of her loved-ones; something she conceals from those around her because her father has instilled in her a belief that fear is an unforgivable weakness. Gael seeks but fails to impress him because, what Jarleth really wants is for his vulnerable, gentle-natured son to be 'a man' and refuses to accept that he has crippling emotional issues.

From teens to young adulthood, we follow our anarchic protagonist on a journey that takes her from Dublin to London to New York and the birth of the Occupy movement. She dodges emotional entanglements, lacks scruples and very often lands herself in trouble, but always loves her fragile brother. He is the one decent and honest person in her life, though she undoubtedly sees him as her Achilles heel.

Orchid & the Wasp is a dark but highly amusing coming-of-age story, which encompasses sexuality, mental health issues, class, religion and contemporary politics. The prose is vivid and its characters leap off the page, grabbing you by the scruff, but none more so than our furious, artful, spunky heroine, Gael Foess.

Prize-winning Irish poet, Caoilinn Hughes has written a stunningly ambitious debut novel, revealing a considerable talent. If this is a beginning, she is destined for literary greatness.

Many thanks to Oneworld for providing an advance review copy of this title.

[Jonathan Pool · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sometimes my reaction to a book is influenced by the other books I was reading around the same time. By coincidence, I read Caoilinn Hughes as one of three consecutive Irish writers, sandwiched between Milkman and Normal People . The Orchid & the Wasp was my favourite of the three, and while by no means my perfect read, it was still an exciting discovery.
Gael Foess is the star of the show, and at times her brazen confidence, her derring-do, her ability to think on her feet was exhilarating. A thoroughly modern young woman whose self belief ensures that she grasps life with both hands.

At one point, newly enrolled at University, Gael arrives for a class to find the tutor absent through sickness. Gael seizes the initiative, and doesn't want to waste a potentially great seminar: "Descent to the underworld"; so, impromptu, Gael steps in as substitute. She asks the class to introduce themselves:

“Your name, birthplace,major, favourite opening line and what you’d say to Ovid if you met him in the pub. Let’s go anti clockwise, like the shadow of a North- facing obelisk” (104)

Its often difficult to keep up with Gael's wise cracking, multi tasking, reference laden stream of dialogue and consciousness.

While Gael dominates the book, her brother Guthrie and mother Sive are also drawn as sadder, more troubled, souls in the face of Gael's maelstrom of activity. The father daughter relationship between Gael and Jarleth is the inter personal highlight. Jarleth is an easy target as an example of arrogant selfishness. He also has a more genuine side to him. As a parent his whole approach is to treat his children as lesser formed adults. There's little allowance made for their youth.
Gael works out how to make the best of the father that life has given her, but as she says “What I want has nothing to do with you”(287)

I wasnt quite as taken with the "Occupy Wall Street" section of the book, but Gael's succinct explanation of the causes of sub prime, and the collateralised debt 2008 crisis (116/7) is superb.

I had the chance to hear Caoilinn Hughes at the Debut Fiction Showcase, Waterstones Gower Street, on August 30; in conversation with May Lan Tan and Daisy Johnson.
Hughes is loquacious and forthcoming! She provided a lot of enlightening background to The Orchid & the Wasp.

*The book is "about" the Wall street crash, and the financial movement (in this respect there's a generation of young Irish writers influenced by necessity (and absence of jobs)).
*Conversation on the book has been 'consumed' by discussion of Gael. Hughes does not want, and did not intend, this to be a book about whether you like of dislike Gael.
* Gael is neither Pollyanna, nor an anti heroine. She specifically has no background trauma to explain/inform her. There's not been any come comeuppance; she doesn't behave in an admirable way.
(Character without trauma is a recurring conversational message on the night)
* Influence of Candide; Vanity Fair. A woman active in the world, climbing the social scale.
* Jarleth works for Barclays, specifically because that bank was responsible for the LIBOR manipulation scandal (2011)
* Orchid and Wasp analogy. A rare instance in Nature of a non symbiotic relationship.. This is symptomatic of the real (human) world in which non mutual, exploitative relationships occur.
Hughes has been asked who (of Gael and Guthrie) is the Orchid, who is the Wasp?. Gael's father would like her to have been the male.
* Meritocracy. There is some doubt as to the reality of meritocracy... see Trump. Hughes cited an example of sociologist Michael Young in 1958 in his work "The Rise of the Meritocracy", which was satirised the ostensibly merit-based Tripartite System of education practiced in the United Kingdom at the time; he claimed that, in the Tripartite System, "merit is equated with intelligence-plus-effort, its possessors are identified at an early age and selected for appropriate intensive education, and there is an obsession with quantification, test-scoring, and qualifications
* Writers who influenced Hughes: Martin Amis; Eimear McBride; Ben Lerner;Lori Moore; Nabokov
* A debate in which the three writers were asked about writing essays- to promote themselves. All three felt that a degree of sexism still existed. Women expected to write personal essays, rather than academic orientated essays. Women can be ambitious, but unlike men its not necessarily about money or power. And certainly not the need to introduce personal trauma!


I look forward to Caoilinn Hughes's next novel. Highly recommended.

[Krista · Rating 3 out of 5]

She's wearing the interview shoes. No bandages. No stockings. No ointment or relief. When she put the shoes back on, the pain reminded her of a wasp sting: the sharp difference in positions of attack and defense.

In the afterword of Orchid & The Wasp, author Caoillin Hughes notes that “Gilles Deleuze's and Felix Guattari's concept of the orchid and the wasp inspired this book.” I also noted, when adding Hughes' book to my Goodreads account, that another book with a similar title – Danielle Clode's The Wasp and The Orchid, a biography of the Australian housewife who solved the mystery of orchid reproduction that had stumped Darwin – was just released this year, and it made it feel like orchids and wasps are “having a moment”. I looked into what's so fascinating about orchid reproduction (this article gives a nice example), but it felt more essential to share what Hughes was originally inspired by, which I assume is to be found in this passage from Deleuze's and Guattari's 1987 masterwork, A Thousand Plateaus:

The orchid deterritorializes by forming an image, a tracing of a wasp; but the wasp reterritorializes on that image. The wasp is nevertheless deterritorialized, becoming a piece in the orchid's reproductive apparatus. But it reterritorializes the orchid by transporting its pollen. Wasp and orchid, as heterogeneous elements, form a rhizome. It could be said that the orchid imitates the wasp, reproducing its image in a signifying fashion (mimesis, mimicry, lure, etc.). But this is true only on the level of the strata – a paralellism between two strata such that a plant organization on one imitates an animal organization on the other. At the same time, something else entirely is going on: not imitation at all but a capture of code, surplus value of code, an increase in valence, a veritable becoming, a becoming-wasp of the orchid and a becoming-orchid of the wasp. Each of these becomings brings about the deterritorialization of one term and the reterritorialization of the other; the two becomings interlink and form relays in a circulation of intensities pushing the deterritorialization ever further. There is neither imitation nor resemblance, only an exploding of two heterogeneous series on the line of flight composed by a common rhizome that can not be attributed to or subjugated by anything signifying.

And that stumps me (I was bemused to read on the Wikipedia entry for A Thousand Plateaus that, while influential at the time, it has been “criticized on many grounds”; with the philosopher Roger Cruton dismissing it as "nonsense" and "unreadable".) What most stumps me is what any of this has to do with the novel that I just read, but as A Thousand Plateaus is subtitled Capitalism and Schizophrenia, I can see how that ties in: more than anything, Orchid & The Wasp is an anti-Capitalist response to the 2008 economic meltdown that tamed the Celtic Tiger, with mental illness thrown in. I can't say that I loved it. (Caveat: I read an ARC, and quotes might not be in their final forms.)

The book opens in 2002 when our protagonist, Gael Foess, is eleven years old and trying to bully her female classmates into investing in her lifetime-virginity-restoring capsules. When she and her frail little brother Guthrie are suspended over the incident (Guthrie for freaking out when his own classmates teased him about the scheme), they are sent to their father's office and we meet Jarleth: a handsome and powerful executive at Barclay's Bank. Gael is a match for her domineering father (and is this meant to be the orchid-wasp “rhizome”? Has her orchid nature learned to mimic the wasp, thus becoming one?) and we eventually see that Jarleth is more interested in holding court than being a nurturing parent. The children's mother, Sive, is the conductor of one of Dublin's two symphony orchestras – a position rare for a woman – and if she's not out on tour, she's working in her home office; not to be disturbed; no consolation for children with a hard father:

Sive's will to live now seemed gossamer-sheer, fickle as a whim. She'd become a muted rendition of herself. It was true; she'd always been what busybody misogynists bitterly described as a “hard woman,” the very oxymoron embodied. But that's the problem with gossips; they have no register for nuance. There's refusing to applaud when a Ryanair plane lands and there's neglecting to congratulate your son for coming Highly Commended in the regional watercolour championships for under-eighteens. Not all coldnesses are equivalent: a person's spirit can freeze at almost any temperature.

Each section skips ahead a few years at a time, the recession hits and Jarleth and Sive separate, and Gael is so tired of being the strong one in her family that she jumps at the chance to study in London (to where Jarleth has also relocated, though Gael refuses to see her father or take his money). Despite seeming to despise her father, Gael has learned his lessons well: she becomes a business student with a side-hustle to pay her bills, she's not above conning her way into getting what she wants, and besides some residual affection for Guthrie, she doesn't seem to want any personal relationships; engaging in anonymous sex, rebuffing friendships, and rarely going home for visits. When university ends and Gael wants time to plan her next move, she returns to Dublin and plots a master scheme that will take her to the Art Gallery world of Manhattan; so what if it involves theft, manipulation, and taking advantage of her little brother's illness? Ah, because Guthrie has always been sick: having seizures under stress since he was a child, the family allowed him to believe that it was epilepsy (and had him on a regime of placebos), when he was actually diagnosed with a somatic delusional disorder:

Even if he wanted to, Guthrie couldn't hear her. It's like a helmet – he had once explained – that mutes all familiar, consoling sounds and amplifies instead the anonymous: changes in direction of the wind, paws clicking asphalt, the lick of substances dissolving in fluid, sun salutations, whistling, gases, glass cracking, hue and cry, tides retreating, fast-food wrappers, keys, leashes, cartilage, prognoses.

Being who she is, Gael believes that what Guthrie needs is money to supplement his disability payments, and every wrong thing she does in the latter half of the book is meant to get him as much as possible. To save on expenses while she's in NYC, Gael even joins the Occupy Wall Street movement – for the free meals and campsite in Zuccotti Park – and it's hard to really see the author's point with this. On the one hand, she gives plenty of ink to the philosophy of the Occupy movement, but on the other, she has the extremely Capitalistic Gael refuting the protesters' points to their faces. And on the other other hand, when Gael is forced to meet with Jarleth in NYC, she lets him know what she thinks of his career:

It's not merit that's earned you your wealth. It's having been let in on the rules of the game, thanks to being a straight white guy born into a 'good' family. For good, read rich.

When Jarleth points out that he had spent Gael's childhood letting her in on the rules of the game, she balks that as a woman, the game would never be fair to her. Even after all of this, Gael experiences no philosophical or emotional growth: to the last page, Gael prioritises the pursuit of money over interpersonal relationships; although she will have sex with nearly anyone:

Gael's pale lips were there, and the shadows beneath her breasts, and the stubborn wishbone of her hips. The diamond hollow where her ribs met. The tongue to slip round the avocado of her sybaritic core.

I suppose there's literary irony in having a main character who embraces a belief system that the action of the book demonstrates to be flawed (this can't be read as anything but anti-Capitalist), but as Gael experiences no growth, it doesn't feel totally successful as a novel. And if it was inspired by Deleuze's and Guattari's concept of the orchid and the wasp – a connection I strained to find – Hughes might have been constrained by her high level thinking; losing the trees for the forest. There are some fine scenes here, some nice writing, but it didn't totally work for me.

[Paul Fulcher · Rating 2 out of 5]

"Jarleth was involved by then and you know how your father reacts to being told a thing is impossible. Much like you do. And I admire you both for it."

The Orchid and The Wasp is a striking debut, and one that has been very well received by other reviewers whose opinion I respect. But it just was not for me: indeed as a reader who generally dislikes wisecracking narrators, particularly ones whose wisecracks are badly mistargeted, this was for me almost the perfect anti-novel.

It starts promisingly, introducing an Irish family in the early 2000s: two siblings Gael and her younger brother Guthrie (who suffers from a somatic delusional disorder that he has epilepsy), and their mother Sive, a conductor, and their banker father Jarleth (although alarm bells started to ring for me when the paragraph introducing the parents contained a worryingly flawed value judgement):

"His blue eyes were red-rimmed as a seagull’s by the time he finished his homework under the artificial lights of Barclays’ Irish headquarters at 2 Park Place in Dublin’s city centre, just around the corner (though worlds apart) from the National Concert Hall, where they often watched their mother yield a richer kind of equity from her orchestra."

After Gael tries a memorable scam at her school leading to her suspension, Jarleth, sensibly, rather than criticise her for her idea instead focuses on her inefficient use of the time off she has gained as a result.

'You have time to kill because your teachers were too provincial to appreciate your business idea – clever, if low-margin and most certainly age-inappropriate – and now you’d like to fritter away that hard-won time in a shopping centre?'

‘What’s my point, Gael?’ He always managed to keep his full lips – the same ballet shoe colour as the rest of his face – relaxed, even when the words coming out of them weren’t.

Gael put on her straitlaced voice. ‘My time’s more valuable than the time it would take to walk to Stephen’s Green to go shopping.’

'Good.’
...
‘Do you know what I do for a living ? To put this roof over our heads.’

'Global markets something derivative.’

Jarleth laughed at Gael’s unintended joke – granted her the benefit of the doubt. ‘Not anymore, but okay. What I do, Gael, has taught me something no university on the planet could have had on its syllabus. And that is that we have a very simple choice to make. Do we aspire to have worth and influence and risk tragedy; or do we aspire towards love and togetherness and risk that it won’t have been enough. You can’t have both aspirations be equally weighted.’

Gael couldn’t respond."

Her mother, by contrast, appears to lack all parenting skills. She is very nicely sketched although not a character where I found any interesting depth, so those parts focusing on her quickly lost my attention. When Gael has her first period she has to manage without any help from Sive:

Sive looked directly at the blood but her grey eyes misted over. ‘Do you . . . need anything?’

‘If by ‘anything’ you mean tampons, advice, hugs, painkillers, a pep talk, a hot chocolate . . . I’ve got myself covered, thanks. But I will take a fifty-euro guilt payment.’

Unfortunately after the opening section, the fascinating Jarleth fades into the background and Gael takes centre stage.

Ones appreciation for the novel will, I think, ultimately depend on one's view of Gael.

Her nothalfaswittyasthethinkssheis spiel reminded me of the incredibly annoying dentist in Joshua Ferris's To Rise at a Decent Hour, or indeed the 2016 Booker winner.

"Gael was still high on ibuprofen with caffeine, but she could sense how they were close – perhaps only one quip away – from killing however it was they hoped to be."

A typical example is a a false obituary, or 'obittery', she writes on her mother's behalf for Jarleth after he leaves the family home, and which Gale manages to get a newspaper to print:

"Obittery: A Loath Story On Friday 2nd May 2008, Jarleth Moeder Falker Foess, of 24 Amersfort Way, County Dublin, failed to pass the ECG-SE exam of why he should remain plugged in. The IV league of afterlives wouldn’t take him, on account of too much vain. Jarleth was a small man with a large heart attack and a malicious malignant egosarcoma. He deceived experts with his apparent good nature/ health. What were initially believed to be scruples were in fact scabies. Jarleth was a families man, borne by his children, liked by his partner, prayed for by his mother, and dearly preyed on by his girlfriend. He will be sorely miffed."

But my main issue lay with the ill-informed nature of her wit. For example in one of the first set pieces she blags an interview at LBS and one suspects the reader is intended to admire her clever repartee as she trades barbs with her interviewer. But her prepared opening line would, in reality, have led to the immediate termination of the interview on the grounds of statistical illiteracy:

‘Of the forty per cent of interviewees admitted to this MBA,’ Gael says , ‘less than a quarter are female. The odds are one in ten, against me."

Which makes no statistical sense at all. We can't tell precisely without knowing either the % of male candidates or the success rate of men, but the implied success rate for women lies somewhere between (less than) one in seven and 100%.

Does it matter? To me, yes. If your plot has your main character successfully blagging her way through e.g the New York art world, her lines and schemes need to be convincing to the reader and Gael's simply aren't.

Finance and banking is an important backdrop, and Jarleth could have been an interesting character if explored in more depth. Instead we get Gael's views - again not as astute as she believes. One telling quote - "she could openly seethe at everyone’s ignorance" - refers to her fellow Occupy movement members but comes after she has 'explained' the Libor scandal to them in a manner that makes as much sense as her dodgy statistics.

That the daughter of a derivative specialists ends up in the Occupy movement is my personal nightmare. Although here is the book's strong point - the Orchid and Wasp (per Gilles Deleuze’s and Felix Guattari) relationship between Gael and Jarleth that gives the book its title and indeed its inspiration. Despite her best efforts, her father's valuable life lessons inform Gael's views and actions, for example when discussing the likelihood that the Occupy protests succeed with a fellow activist:

"‘Honestly, Nina?’ She thinks about saying it: I’m an aspiring one-percenter. It’s only sane to be appalled at the country’s dysfunction but, come on, kid. Calling it out gets you nowhere. Enormous calamities cause change. Civil wars. Natural disasters. Not street marches. Once customs are established and prejudices rooted, reform is a dangerous and fruitless enterprise, said Rousseau. The truth brings no man a fortune; and it’s not the people who hand out embassies, professorships and pensions. The people give out pretzels, used clothes and coping mechanisms. Gael wipes the crumbs from her chest and admits, instead, ‘I wouldn’t have your best interests at heart.’"

Overall, a striking but flawed character study of a striking but flawed character. Not a book for any insight into financial markets but one which, depending on personal taste, may appeal. Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the ARC, but not a book for me.

[J.D. DeHart · Rating 5 out of 5]

Orchid and the Wasp is a well-written character study. The novel accomplishes a description of a person and the places she travels in life.

Hughes shows talent in this literary novel, a book that will surely be enjoyed by readers in search of realistic fiction and quality writing.

[Hugh · Rating 4 out of 5]

I finished this book over a week ago, but have been rather reluctant to review it because my views are a little incoherent. On the one hand it is well written, lively and thought provoking, but its main protagonist Gael embodies so much of what is wrong about selfish me first modern society that she is difficult to empathise with, however her actions are justified by her attempts to help her morally pure but naive younger brother.

The parts about the New York art scene were interesting to compare with Peter Carey's Theft: A Love Story, indeed both are partly about attempts to game the lucrative market there with eye catching pieces by unschooled artists.

A striking debut novel, but I rather preferred her second book The Wild Laughter.

[jessica · Rating 3 out of 5]

2.5 stars. Whilst I did enjoy aspects of this novel, I can't help but feel that overall it was aiming for somewhere beyond me. Hughes' debut struck me as a blend of A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing and The Future Won't Be Long, but less touching and traumatic than the first, and weirdly far more convoluted than the second despite considerably less drug use. In all honesty I probably wouldn't have finished this one had I not purchased it in hardcover for myself as well as being sent a galley for review.

As unlikely as parts of this plot did seem, I did enjoy the basis of the story mostly, so figure it was the writing style I didn't quite gel with. This wasn't an easy read for me. Not in terms of themes or anything, but literally - it didn't flow very well. On more than one occasion I found myself rereading a paragraph to see if I'd missed a sentence with some vital information. Also, sometimes dialogue is written in dialect to reflect a person's accent, and sometimes not. With seemingly no reasoning for this disparity, it just further distanced me from a narrative I struggled to invest in.

Gael as a character also confused me. For someone who we are encouraged to believe is altruistic at her core, I often found her motivation and actions pretty shady. She also happens to be one of the most sardonically astute characters I've come across, despite being only 11 when we are first introduced to her. I just didn't believe such a young girl would have her qualities, despite her unusual relationships with her parents. She was more than just older than her years. There is a moment early on, when she catches her Dad naked as he comes out of the shower. She seems to be incredibly aware of the exchange of power that takes place in this confrontation, and the hold this gives her over her father. It was just a little too unbelievable, and more than a little odd. Essentially, I felt apathetic towards the protagonist as I found her unrealistic.

Her brother Guthrie on the other hand, was of great interest to me. Unfortunately, despite being given quite a complex back story, we saw little of him first hand, and only got insight into his character through Gael. Without giving too much away, considering a lot of the emotional stakes are invested in how we feel towards Guthrie and what he goes through, I think we should have been given more time with him in the story.

I really expected to like this one, and suspect many will still do so. I think it simply comes down to the writing style not quite working for me, a wish for the story to be sharper, and the characters a little more sculpted.

Thank you to Oneworld for providing an ebook through Netgalley in exchange for an honest opinion

[ns510reads · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you love character-driven literary works of fiction, this will be right up your street. Gael Foess, our protagonist, is a bold, enterprising schemer. We meet her when she is ten years old, offering to sell virginity pills to her fellow classmates. The novel takes us through the next ten years of her life, encompassing the rise and fall of the Celtic Tiger in Ireland through to the Occupy Wall Street protest movement in America. She schemes her way to riches, ironically protesting corporate greed even as she aspires to be part of the 1%. But she is also vulnerable, afraid of settling, afraid of being bound by a more sedate way of life by choosing love.

”...we have a very simple choice to make. Do we aspire to have worth and influence and risk tragedy; or do we aspire towards love and togetherness and risk that it won’t have been enough. You can’t have both aspirations be equally weighted.”

This is also a story of family. At the start of the book, we see a family of four; a rich one-percenter father, a creative composer mother, and Gael’s younger brother Guthrie, who has a delusional disorder. Their father Jarleth doesn’t know what to make of Guthrie’s condition, ”just Did Not Get how a person could hinder himself needlessly.”. Instead of properly attempting to get Guthrie well again, Jarleth ties his pseudo-seizures to whether or not Guthrie is a good Christian, before essentially giving up on him (”...he seemed to decide that this ongoing self-harm had rendered my brother useless. The jug had been compromised. Why pour wine into it?”).

The family is fractured as Jarleth leaves them in the midst of Ireland’s economic downturn, leaving their mother Sive struggling, becoming a shadow of herself (”She began to resemble a bass clef, arched and draped in a wide black shawl. Her fingers were willowy wands, but she’d forgotten the motions to get them to work.”) It wasn’t the right climate for her choice of career, not when money was tight. Gael wants more for herself and her family, regardless of whether this is what they want for themselves. It all comes to a head when she shows just how far she is willing to go for the sake of her mostly selfish pursuits, trying to justify it to herself along the way.

The title is interesting, so I did a quick google search to see if it might have any meaning to it. One of the first things that came up was something I had never heard of: Deleuze and Guattatari: The Orchid and The Wasp, from A Thousand Plateaus by Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattatari . It’s a long piece of text, but the gist of it: ”How could movements of deterritorialization and processes of reterritorialization not be relative, always connected, caught up in one another? The orchid deterritorializes by forming an image, a tracing of a wasp; but the wasp reterritorializes on that image. [...] It could be said that the orchid imitates the wasp, reproducing its image in a signifying fashion [...] At the same time, something else entirely is going on: not imitation at all but a capture of code, surplus value of code, an increase in valence, a veritable becoming, a becoming-wasp of the orchid and a becoming-orchid of the wasp.”

It seems that The Orchid would signify Gael, while The Wasp would signify her father Jarleth. Even as she begrudges him, she strives to be like him, whether this is on purpose or otherwise (”My father, the one-per-center. He pulled his great big house, his cheater’s crash pad from under us in oh-seven, my little brother sick, Mum forced to quit her job, and now he’s here spreading his financier fuckery to the westmost point. So I came over to Occupy to stick a fucking picket up his cul-de-sac. And this is him reciprocating.”) She wants to amass for herself what he has amassed for himself, deriding his privilege even as she shares the same.

Some quotes that would support Gael being The Orchid, Jarleth being The Wasp:
* Re: Gael at the beginning of the book: ”It’s our right to be virgins as often as we like, Gael told the girls surrounding her like petals round a pollen packet.”
* Re: Jarleth, when a young Gael waits for him to finish his shower: ”She had that strange not-quite-sickening feeling but she didn’t want to make it seem as if she couldn’t bear to look, so she let her gaze stay there a moment longer. At his hairy hanging sac like a wasp nest and the heavy penis that seemed alive, then dead as gristle.”

Sooo if you like books with strong characters, bold female protagonists that are not necessarily likeable, if you don’t mind minimal plot but appreciate thoughtful sentences with a poet’s touch, then do check this one out.

[SueLucie · Rating 4 out of 5]

With apologies for name-checking another author in the first sentence, I enjoyed this book in the way I enjoy books by Ali Smith and I mean that as a huge compliment. I am a fan of wordplay and Caiolinn Hughes’ novel has something to love on every page - stylish and classy writing. The central character Gael engaged me from the beginning, her upbringing having instilled in her the belief that anything she achieves will be by her own wits. Though she determines to hold herself apart from others, she can’t resist trying to make her brother’s life better, even though her bold ideas and her values are by no means in accord with his own. I found their relationship touching. I was particularly pleased by the ambivalence of the ending, I had so hoped that it wouldn’t be too neat.

If I have a niggle, it is that the sections in New York with the Occupy movement didn’t engage me much. I could have done without them altogether really and been happy just to get on with the story of Gael and Guthrie and the artwork.

I find it astounding that this should be a debut novel and can’t wait to see what the author tackles next. With thanks to Oneworld Publications for the opportunity to read an ARC.

[Bri Lee · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hughes is the real deal. When I started this book it was like the author had shoved me from behind into a pool, or a cyclone, and from the first page through to the end it's a sharp and punchy ride around the world with the aptly-named Gael. She's trying to help her brother and mother since her father left them after the '08 financial crisis, but her drive and world philosophy see her going to further and further extremes. Somehow every character is extreme and blown-up, but the details and dialogue keep them all hyper-real. Every single sentence is so crafted it's like you can picture Hughes placing words with a tweezer, but the rocketing pace keeps it from drowning in craft. The dips and twists of the plot are terrifying delights. This book transported me. It made me afraid of the neoliberalism I've accidentally internalised, and ashamed of my own tendency to respond with disgust where I perceive mediocrity. In Gael we have an all-original anti-hero. In Hughes' hands our splintered, kaleidoscopic world of art and commerce is delivered on a platter of poetry. Easily the most original book I read in 2018.

[Barbara · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the first published novel for Caoilinn Hughes (but the third she has written). She is also a poet and her collection Gathering Evidence published in 2012, won the Patrick Kavanagh Prize. She says that when she moved to New Zealand (to work for Google), the landscape seemed too big for poems, and she decided to write novels. While in New Zealand, she earned a PhD in English Literature at the University of Wellington. Her prior educational background was somewhat unconventional. She is what we refer to in the U.S. as a first-generation college student as her parents didn’t go to university. When it came time for Caoilinn to apply to university, she did not have the results required to gain entrance into an Irish university. Instead, she went to Northern Ireland, where she also did not meet their standards (less stringent than the Republic), but brought ample evidence of her poetry writing which she had been doing since the age of 14. On the strength of that she was admitted to Queens University, Belfast, where she earned a B.A. and a M.A.

Hughes is in the U.S. currently, and spoke to a large audience at the Library of Congress National Book Festival (https://www.loc.gov/events/2019-natio...). This week, a local contemporary Irish arts organization, sponsored a discussion with her about her novel, Orchid and the Wasp, which the book club had just read. Hughes proved to be very engaging, and deeply thoughtful about her craft. For me, a discussion with an author provides insights that enrich my reading and I will revisit the novel. Hughes, like most writers, believes that readers should find their own meaning and interpretation in novels. This is a particularly useful approach to her novel.

This is a literary novel, and it also has a strong story line that spans 2008-2018. The central character is Gael Foess, along with her younger brother Guthrie, and the family is completed by mother, an orchestra conductor, and father, a banker. The economic crisis of 2008 wrecks the family finances and the Foess family like many others of the time in Ireland is thrown into turmoil. Gael is 14 years old at the time. Her brother, Guthie, is subject to not infrequent “fits”, which he believes are epilepsy, but are actually psychosomatic. The Foess parents, who seem to regret having children, and are unmarried (because their mother doesn’t want to marry), may, in my view, be the cause of Guthrie’s illness and distress. Guthrie’s illness adds to the family stress.

The protagonist Gael has been described by some reviewers as unlikeable. Gael is portrayed as completely self-centered in parts of the novel, but she becomes Guthrie’s savior. I found this aspect of Gael compelling. Although she appears to use and abuse others, it is often to the end of helping her brother. I found some of the people that she interacted with to be unredeemable (e.g. Hoover). They wanted something from Gael, and she refused to give them what they wanted. I found myself rooting for Gael. She is not despicable at all.

The language in the novel often delights and enchants the reader. The poet is obvious in this novelist. Hughes describes herself as a slow writer – about 200 words a day. She says she is also a slow reader. She confessed in our discussion that she didn’t read her first novel until her mid to late teens. I have shared details of her unusual education because they have obviously shaped her writing. She is fiercely intelligent, and wonderfully adept with words. I look forward to her next novel which will be published in 2020.

[Chrissie Whitley · Rating 2 out of 5]

With a bewildering narrative tone, Orchid and the Wasp misses the mark for me. If this book and I met at the library, I would probably just smile and nod before politely walking away. Orchid and the Wasp and I are not simpatico. In that light, I'll keep this brief.

My main issue with the novel is not in the concept—for I found the barebones outline to be interesting, or at least to have the potential for interesting. I don't know that I even minded the story overall. For instance, if this story were to be relayed to me in a discussion or over dinner, let's say, then I probably would've liked hearing about Gael and her life. No, my main point of contention was with the delivery.

Hughes wrote this novel with a cadence and vernacular that I found confusing, unfocused, and incoherent. Honestly, it was like the damned thing was written in code in some parts. I can handle a dialect, written and structured to accommodate the phonetics, but this was a pervasive stab at something akin to Cockney rhyming slang mixed with an overabundance of pop culture references. And this is what made up the narrative! I needed those red secret decoder glasses.

I don't know if it was a vague notion of trying for a poetic tone and missing for me, but this alone made the book nigh on unskimmable. The quippy slang-speak was exhausting, and all I could think of was Don Cheadle's character from Ocean's Eleven, Basher—with his horrific attempt at a London Cockney-esque accent.

Basher: So unless we intend to do this job in Reno, we're in barney.
[everyone pauses]
Basher: Barney Rubble.
[they look bewildered]
Basher: [irritated that they don't understand what he is implying] Trouble!

I received this book for free from the publisher via Penguin Random House's First to Read program in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book, nor the content of my review.

[Doug · Rating 3 out of 5]

While there's much to admire in this novel, it also bears all the unmistakable and regrettable hallmarks of being a debut. Much of it is overwritten, the main plot not kicking in until literally the halfway mark. There are weird tangential paragraphs, or whole sections, that bear no discernible purpose - one of the semi-major characters (Art) doesn't get a backstory till 20 pages from the end, at which point it's superfluous. Gael is supposedly a very sharp and intelligent person, yet she does incredibly stupid and inane things (like leaving her money unattended with the art forger, and throwing away her claim ticket at the hotel).

Essential information is often either withheld or thrown in so offhandedly as not to make much impact - 100 pages on, I had to go back to find the sections first explaining just how Guthrie wound up with twins, which really isn't then explicated till 50 pages FURTHER on! A major plot point (Gael creating an exact duplicate copy of the painting she sells to Wally to hang at the gallery showing), makes little or no sense, other than to crop up at the denouement. The 'love story' between Gael and Harper never quite rings true, and Jarleth's infrequent appearances blunt his overall importance to the philosophical underpinnings of the metaphorical title. And the whole Occupy sub-plot feels shoehorned in for no reason.

But given all that, the book does have some terrific set pieces (Chapter 6, with Gael and Wally in the plane, is well-nigh faultless) and for the most part, Hughes' prose style is eccentrically beguiling. I'd give her an A for effort, and would be interested in what she produces next, but this is more of a miss than a hit.

[8stitches 9lives · Rating 4 out of 5]

Orchid & the Wasp is a special novel and Caoilinn Hughes is a talented new literary voice ready to hit you with her character-driven, sharp as a tack debut novel. This is realist fiction at its finest, with a spiky protagonist in Gael Foess who certainly provided me with a fascinating life in which to study. She's a ruthless, intelligent individual whose beauty betrays her revealing the ugly psychopathic traits which lie just below the surface.

As others have mentioned, it is a little sporadic or episodic, but there are indeed some flashes of genuine brilliance throughout its pages. Sharply observed and quietly amusing, this is a thoroughly enjoyable romp through the trials and tribulations of a Dublin family who are falling apart. Hughes's prose, somewhat unsurprisingly, is beautiful; having discovered her past life as an award-winning poet I will be picking up some of her other work.

Many thanks to Oneworld Publications for an ARC.

[Jennifer · Rating 1 out of 5]

I cannot believe what a hard time I've had reading this book. I think normally I would have given up on a book like this way in the beginning instead of wasting my time, but I was hoping that the story would have some kind of payoff.

LIKED: I enjoyed the plot, and the idea behind the writing. I enjoy following families through the years and reading family sagas and getting involved with the characters whether I like them or not (even if this book fell short of that, the idea is what kept me going). This author also has a very unique writing style that would appeal to many people.

DISLIKED: I had a terrible time with the author's writing style. Usually I can finish a book in about 3 days, or faster if I really like it. However, this style writing is absolutely confusing to me. The language is too poetic most of the time, which leads me to have to re-read a lot to see if I've missed anything. It's a very specific stylistic choice that you have to be a fan of and want to read to be able to get through this. Also, maybe I missed it because I found the writing insufferable, but the ending kind of falls flat. You follow this girl, she does some interesting things, but there is so much more that could have (and should have) been explored.

Overall, I can't recommend this book. Or, at the very least, if you are interested in reading it pick it up from a library or bookstore first and read the first chapter before purchasing. See if the writing style is for you, or if it confuses you as much as it confused me. I spent a whole week trying to get through this and I am relieved that I am done.

[Emily Fordham · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ok. This book confused me. Because bits of it I was completely in love with; engaged with; swept up in a story compelling I’d forget how long I’d been reading. Then other bits just... weren’t. These were the bits that were a chore; too much information; too many big words and concepts; too much thinking involved.
Orchid and the Wasp is hugely character driven- revolving around Gael, a young Irish girl/woman who knows her strengths and isn’t afraid to use them. It took me a while to warm up to her and to really understand her actions and motives. I’d say about halfway through the book was a bit of an eureka moment for me and I suddenly realised how fantastic and thrilling a character she was. What she was doing and why she was doing it all began to make sense but what I loved most is how it wasn’t all completely solved and Gael still remained someone of an enigma at the end of the book.
I’d say the book peaks about 3/4 of the way through. This is when I was most engrossed and read most quickly, enjoying turning the pages. It’s definitely a slow builder and almost peters off towards the end too.
It’s the kind of book you want to discuss with others in a book group or similar- it makes you ask questions and delve deeper. I did like that about the book. I’m seeing the author speak at the Salisbury Literary Festival and I think this will bring another layer of meaning for me.
Overall this one is a really interesting read. I think it will definitely divide opinion- or just leave some people like me: not exactly sure if they enjoyed what they have just read but also kind of wanting to rave about it too!

[Nicole D. · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book hit my radar as as a possible Man Booker nominee, and it's a shame it wasn't nominated - especially with books like Snap and Sabrina on the list. Though nothing like "Milkman", it was enough like "Milkman" that if both books were on the list it would have been puzzling. If that makes any sense. I'm in the love-camp on "Milkman" by the way.

This is a remarkable novel. Hughes is obviously bright and talented. The writing stellar, the characters (FLAWED) and interesting, and the story kept me enthralled the whole way through. Gael is snarky and at times misguided (or properly guided but mis-actioned), self-absorbed, complicated, loyal, funny - you know ... human. The family dynamic is fraught, dysfunctional, complex, you know ... human.

Music is a central theme in this book - reminding me of another Booker nom, "Do Not Say We Have Nothing." In that book the music aspects really bored me, but in this book I felt they came to life.

I think (and I could be wrong) those who didn't love "Milkman" would like this one better. I feel like there was more going on both with characters and story, and can't imagine this being called "boring." I'd love for one of my non-Milkman-loving friends to read it and let me know.

I ended up doing the audio on this, which was read by the author (immediate inward groan) - she was fantastic. Very talented in many areas. Probably a lot like Gael.

This book wasn't perfect, there was a caricature or two, an annoying plot point here and there, and times when the story felt a bit bogged down, but for me they were easy to overlook and I ended up loving it.

[Katherine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Young and motivated, Gael Foess attempts to help her family during the recession with her own sharp intellect in this bright and brimming debut.

Off the bat Gael wears her genius boldly. Suited with two independently successful parents and a sensitive younger brother, her family never praises her, but instead fosters a unique type of care and lessons. That is until her father, a banker, packs up and leaves. It's before this point though that Gael feels a protectiveness towards her mother and brother, and something like resentment for her father. She never loses the desire to impress him, even as an adult. As she sees her brother become comfortable in his discomfort, she can't help but strive to be part of the exclusive top percent of society like her father, as much as she hates it. As her story continues, you may want her to succeed - or perhaps not. Gael will certainly be insufferable to some readers. Her cunning lacks traditional honor, but still deserves praise. I couldn't help but gape at moments of this language driven story. Gael (and her creator Caoilinn Hughes) is so whip smart, enough to spark genuine joy.

Gael weaves her way through plot after plot, eventually making her way to New York with a one way ticket to sell her brother's abstract paintings (stolen, of course). She is driven to help him succeed, as she knows he couldn't do it without her. But she never stops to think if he'd want to do it in the first place. Nor does she stop to consider the paintings themselves, though she can see past her own love for her brother that they deserve high praise. Gael is stuck in the balance of love and respect for her brother. She simply can't see past what she believes is best for him, even to the potential detriment to his mental health. It's in her DNA to help him succeed, and only she knows how to do it, or so she believes.

Gael's relationship to her brother is fascinating and utterly unlike anything I've read before. I found myself relating her protectiveness to my own towards my parents as they get older. When you believe you know what's best for someone, to the point of not stopping to consider what it may mean to them, it can get tricky. In Gael's case, she never pauses to stop digging herself out of a hole. Though her love is strong and may seem righteous (to herself), she can't stop pushing.

It's easy to forget that Gael herself is so young by the end of the novel. Her prowess and intellect suit her well. As she begins her next mysterious course, I couldn't help but miss her already.

I received my copy in exchange for an honest review. Many thanks to Netgalley and the publisher.

[fred central · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book is extremely well written. The characters are fully-realized and the imagery is outstanding. The book cover is beautiful.

There, I said something nice.

Reading this book was drudgery. The first 40% provided constant temptation to stop reading it and move on to something else. I slogged through it because it had such good reviews I figured it would eventually get better. The second half was better I suppose, but my motivation continued to be the desire to finish it as quickly as possible so I could simply get this over with.

The plot is frankly ridiculous, illogical, and unbelievable. The main character is unlikable and the ending just underscores her petulance.

[Bookish Bethany · Rating 2 out of 5]

This took a very long time to get through, I bought it on a whim. The main character is brazenly smart, narcissistic to the point of sociopathic and the sequence of events is ludicrous (of course I know that novels do not have to be realistic to be good, but it felt as though realism was the premise).

The end was ridiculous, all of the characters suddenly appeared in the same space as though in a soap opera - it made me cringe.

[Lolly K Dandeneau · Rating 3 out of 5]

via my blog: https://bookstalkerblog.wordpress.com/
'Her only brother. She’d imagined lesions on the soft tissues of his personality.'

In Caoilinn Hughes’ debut novel, we are introduced to Gael Foess an intelligent, tough young woman who is good at lots of things. Gael knows it takes more than talent, skills to make a rich life. Her brother Guthrie suffers from an unusual illness his choices narrow his life, dull his talent, his brilliance. Gael refuses to let him sink in mediocrity, she will force all the good things she knows he deserves on him, whether he wants it or not. They have seen how their parents were reduced when life hit them, her father left, her mother’s luster dimmed out, no longer the amazing orchestral conductor she once was. It doesn’t have to be this way, she refuses to let Guthrie or herself submit to the mechanisms of fate. They won’t be victims!

When Gael leaves Dublin for the art scene in London and Manhattan, she has a plan. She knows how to work people, how to level the playing field. If it means success for her brother, what does it matter if she deceives? Artist, illness… it’s exactly what the wealthy hunger for. The further,longer she is away from her home and family the more she loses herself. She has to work the gallery scene, and it’s a jungle. Like any business, it requires decpetion. Just how much of her brother is she willing to sell, if it’s for the best? At what cost? There is tenderness in the telling of Guthrie’s childhood difficulties and the affection she gave him. But he is no longer a child.

For all of Gael’s shrewdness, she is blind when it comes to her family. Sometimes you can’t conquer every problem through sheer will, sometimes you have to accept the state of things and move forward. When we attempt to ‘fix’ our loved ones, sometimes we end up breaking them. It takes a sober mind to see oneself with clarity, Gael spends most of her days plowing through life, sure she knows what’s best for everyone, when she is sober. She gets tangled up in Occupy on Wall Street, works the galleries with a talent similar to her father’s, has run ins with love and remains sealed off to becoming truly close to anyone. She knows best, though, when it comes to her family. Or does she?

Gael can be a bit much but her actions are born out of love. The problem is she isn’t dealing with her own inner turmoil nor is she aware that her brother is his own person, with his own needs, desires. In fact, I think there is a little of Gael in all of us as we want to push our loved ones to strive for the best self they can. There is something maniacal in the ways we shadow our friends and family. It’s so much easier to fix others, isn’t it? It takes leaving Dublin and returning home to confront the reality she has been unable to discern in order to move forward. Love itself is all we can give, loving people enough to let them be who they are, and make their own choices, even if it’s against the life we imagined they deserve.

Publication Date: July 10, 2018

Crown Publishing