Something Like Breathing

by Angela Readman

It’s the fifties, and Lorrie is unimpressed when her family moves to the remote Scottish island where her grandad runs a whisky distillery. She befriends Sylvie, the shy girl next door: ‘The slightest smile from Sylvie was a fluffy elephant at the fayre. It had to be won with a clear aim,’ writes Lorrie in her diary. Yet fun-loving Lorrie isn’t sure Sylvie’s is the friendship she wants to win. But as the adults around them struggle to keep their lives on an even keel, the two young women are drawn into a series of events that leave the small town wondering who exactly Sylvie is and what strange gift she is hiding.

Readman’s feel for emotional nuance and her natural flair for mixing strangeness with poignant everyday detail make this long-awaited debut a novel to savour.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Magical Realism, Literary Fiction, Scotland, Coming Of Age, Historical

256 pages, Paperback

First published January 19, 2019

About the author

Angela Readman is a twice shortlisted winner of the Costa Short Story Award. Her stories have won the National Flash Fiction Day Competition, The Mslexia Short Story Prize, and The Fish Short Memoir Prize. They have also been shortlisted in the Manchester Fiction Prize.

Her debut story collection Don't Try This at Home was published by And Other Stories in 2015. It won The Rubery Book Prize and was shortlisted in the Edge Hill Short Story Prize. She also writes poetry: her poetry collection The Book of Tides was published by Nine Arches in late 2016. Angela's debut novel, Something Like Breathing​, will be published by And Other Stories in 2019.

Reviews

[Ashleigh (a frolic through fiction) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Originally posted on A Frolic Through Fiction

Thank you to the publisher for sending me a free copy of this book. This in no way affects my opinion of the book.

* Rated 4.5 stars

A story of friendship, teenage years and a town that’s probably too small for its own good, this book follows Lorrie, unimpressed as her family move to a remote Scottish island. Thround choice or through happenstance, she becomes friends with the girl next door, Sylvie. But it doesn’t take long for her to wonder who Sylvie really is, what gift she’s hiding. and if she wants to be friends with her after all…

This book captured my attention from the very first chapter. Set on a remote Scottish island where everyone knows everyone else’s business, any hint at something strange seems unnatural. How can there be something hidden amongst this society, where there’s very little room for secrets? And yet there’s something odd about Sylvie, something that goes beyond her shy persona. It’s alluded to in a quiet way, so you’re never really too sure if Sylvie’s supposed “strangeness” is down to a hidden, repressed gift or if it’s instead just the unfair judgement of teenage society. What I loved though is how you would almost be lulled into a sense of normality – you’d become so caught up with the everyday life and gossip of these characters – before the book would once again allude to something odd. My back would prickle with awareness and wonder, wanting to know more and dig into Sylvie’s story, but the people surrounding her seemed almost oppressive, blocking the full story I so desperately wanted to uncover. It kept me turning the pages, needing to find out as much as possible.

It definitely felt strange, having a page-turner of a book when reading about everyday lives. But I suppose that’s the lure of a small society like this – it’s easy to get caught up in everyone’s stories. Being set in the 1950’s, I loved reading about the problems that came up…and how dark/serious they could get. Between maintaining polite relationships with nosy neighbours and serious accusations that would impact someone’s entire life, so much is packed into this li’l story, and every moment of it fascinated me.

This book switches between the narratives of Lorrie and Sylvie, each one having its own unique “thing”. Lorrie would introduce people to the story by analysing them, breaking down their personality into associated scents, tastes and appearances. At first this was a little jarring, cutting away from the story to analyse a person. But I soon fell in love with these sections. Sure, it sounds like an odd thing to do at first, but you learn a lot more about a person by the memories and events associated with them, which is where the scents/tastes/sights mentioned above stem from. It felt like a more effective way of getting to know a character quickly, rather than simply being told “this is their personality and this is how they act”. As for Sylvie’s narrative, she often writes as if answering a written question for class. It would be something random such as “what do your hobbies include?”, but you’d see her answer, her mindset, everything she thinks of her current situation and everything she hopes for…and then you’d see the answer she gives to other people. You see her true self vs her appearance, and how much she changes about herself to fit in.

In this slow and subtle way, Sylvie caught my heart. It went out to her constantly, because although this is a story of friendship, it very much shows the rocky side of such things. I felt her loneliness and despaired at her desire to fit in. I wanted so much for her. I wanted to protect her, to be her friend. I wanted her to reach her full potential and learn to love herself. Even for Lorrie, I wanted to shake her and show her that fitting in isn’t always the best option. I wanted to give her the confidence to stand up to people, to think for herself, to be unashamed and accepting. Something about these two girls just clicked with me, and they took up everything in me. And so when I finished this book, I was speechless. I had so many feelings. And I know this story will stay with me for awhile.

[Sarah]

DNF @ around 30%

While I loved Readman’s short story collection this didn’t work for me at all as I found the pace to be incredibly slow and the characters didn’t grab me.

[Andy Weston · Rating 3 out of 5]

I embarked on this knowing I would be out of my favoured genres, and not expecting a huge amount, but anything with a Scottish Island tag gets my attention theses days.. I spent most of the novel trying to identify the island, eventually coming to the opinion that it’s probably doesn’t actually exist.
It’s the story of two teenage friends growing up on the island. Sylvie and her family move to live there in the early 1950s and her friendship with Lorie develops. Not a whole lot happens, but Readman does portray the island life well; it’s claustrophobic nature, the ‘tittle-tattle’ amongst is residents, looking at some of the issues faced by teenagers in a remote community.

[Varsha Ravi]

3.5/5

This was one of those quietly, brilliant coming-of-age novels that just snuck up on me and completely enamoured me. Set in a remote Scottish island, the novel follows two young girls, socially adept Lorrie and painfully shy Sylvie as they navigate the pressures of growing up in this intimately small town where everyone knows everyone. Angela Readman creates a beautifully nuanced portrait of girlhood and friendship, the pitfalls and highs, in alternating points of view, between Lorrie and Sylvie.

As the novel unfolds, the families of the two girls and various inhabitants of this town come into sharp focus through the lens of Lorrie and Sylvie. Lorrie’s meticulous understanding of people is journaled in as evaluations of their ‘nose’, ‘palate’ and ‘finish’ which I found incredibly clever. As a reader, there’s more that you can infer by reading between the lines than Lorrie seems to allude. Sylvie captures your heart as a precocious, innocent girl with a mysterious secret. As the story progresses, aspects of Sylvie that continue to befuddle Lorrie, become far more clear to you as a reader. The story meanders in the mundane but gathers momentum as it progresses.

What begins as blurry outlines are moulded into definite contours as the girls progress into their teenage years and are shaped by the judgement of peers and adults alike. Secret love interests, hidden agendas, yearnings for comfort, friendship, acceptance and being understood, all punctuate the landscape they navigate. Readman writes with such stunning clarity, maintaining a sense of small-town intrigue while never straying too far from the narrative. Something Like Breathing is an astute observation of growing up while being burdened by a gift. A gift that is wonderful but is made to believe as something dark.

[Sami · Rating 4 out of 5]

I picked this book up because my parents moved to the middle of nowhere Scotland and thought I'd find a kindred spirit amongst the pages. What I found instead was a beautifully written piece of speculative historical fiction.

Readman's writing style is decadently gorgeous and yet so simple. Lorrie and Sylvie's narrative voices are so distinct and unique that reading the POV tag of every new chapter became irrelevant. From the very first sentence, I knew who was narrating and I looked forward to Slyvie's onomatopoeia or Lorrie's evaluations.

Speaking of, the whisky-inspired evaluations were so marvellously done. So fresh but not crowbarred in just to set the novel apart. In each one, you can see her grandfather's influence, her observational skills, her understanding and lack thereof. My only nitpick is I think the groundwork for these evaluations could've been laid slightly more for how integral they became to the storytelling.

[Cherise Wolas · Rating 4 out of 5]

A quirky and intriguing debut novel focused on two teenage girls and their friendship over a few years, from 1957 to 1960. Lorrie Wilson and her family - father, mother, younger brother - move from the UK to the remote Scottish island where her mother was raised and Lorrie's grandfather runs a whiskey distillery. Bunny Tyler and her daughter, Sylvie, a strange and shy girl, are their next door neighbors. Lorrie, the newcomer, is more popular at school, more predictable in her wants and desires, finding a new favorite friend, Blair, with whom she tests her boundaries, and she is a keen observer of others using all of her senses, while Sylvie remains introverted, somehow supernaturally gifted (which becomes clear at the end, wonderfully), wearing shapeless clothes, maintaining a notebook of pictures of kisses that she hides from her mother. Of the two girls, it is Sylvie who knows herself better even as she can't see the world as clearly as Lorrie does. The two households are different - Wilson's is warm and looser for the times - her father, a former insurance broker who made a terrible mistake for which he can't forgive himself, her mother is renewing her childhood friendship with handyman Rook, who never left the island, grandpa is Grumps, and has an enemy. The Tyler household - for a while only mother and daughter - is oppressive and repressive, Bunny has rules that Sylvie must follow and does. And Sylvie has a secret, which makes her odd and very special. The chapters alternate between the girls - both are first-person narrators, and each has their own voice and observational methods. It took me a while to get into the novel, but the author, also a poet and short story writer, kept me intrigued, wanting to find out where this story was going. It is a dual coming of age story, but far deeper than that, involving family and social challenges and the claustrophobia of island life; it is about friendship and its limits, the exploration of the self, and of otherness, and myth-making. Readman's precise style, the original observations and turns of phrase, are unique.

[Linden · Rating 4 out of 5]

Coming of age novel set on a remote Scottish island in the 1950's.

[Nina · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a story about growing up, fitting in and being different, about mental health, family relationships and life on a small Scottish island in the late fifties. And I highly recommend it.

Neighbours and classmates Sylvie and Lorrie become friends (and sometimes not friends), and through their ups and downs we also get an insight into life on the island in general. Lorrie is interested in boys, especially Sylvie’s stepbrother Zach, while Sylvie is wholly uninterested in boys and dating. Lorrie wants to fit in, to be popular and hang out with the cool kids, while Sylvie is very aware that she is the odd one, an outsider. But there are also hints throughout the story that Sylvie is not just different because of her personality, but because she IS different; I found myself wondering if maybe she was a sprite, a fairy, a changeling, something almost but not quite human. It seemed there was a secret that she and her mother tried hard to keep hidden from everyone.

I liked the narrative styles and how distinct each girl’s voice was; Sylvie with words from her local dialect sprinkled into her story, Lorrie with her descriptions of people based on smells, palate etc, rather than “normal” descriptions. It was also through their descriptions that Sylvie’s mother, Bunny, really sprang into focus – as a quirky woman obsessed with Tupperware in Lorrie’s perspective, as a strict, restrictive, smothering mother in Sylvie’s. It became clear that Sylvie had no right to a private life, her mother would go through all her belongings and clear away everything unseemly – scrapbooks, love letters, even real books she even burns books! Burning “Alice in Wonderland” for being corruptive is a cardinal sin as far as I am concerned. Absolutely horrific . In Bunny’s eyes, everything is corruptive; books, music, magazines, makeup etc., everything has a bad influence on her daughter and I understand why Sylvie was choking within those tight bounds.

But everything is not rosy in Lorrie’s family life either. She has more freedom than Sylvie and a loving mother and brother, but it is clear that her father is not really part of the family. He is there, but he is not really there, and the atmosphere between him and Lorrie’s mum becomes colder as the story progresses. Especially as the mother’s past love, Rook Cutler, is constantly hovering on the scene.

This was so enjoyable with many characters that felt real and scenes that are vividly painted; I felt Joe Clark’s shame when his mother insisted Sylvie should kiss him at the kissing booth, felt Lorrie’s longing to get away from Blair and the boys at the other island, Sylvie’s horror at the book burning. And underneath it all was the growing sense of mystery; why is Sylvie so different? Who leaves dead birds at the front door of Lorrie’s house?

Yes, highly recommended!


Some favourite quotes:

Sylvie:

“It was only discovering the secret life in the wallpaper that had stopped me crying. Sometimes it’s only the small things I find for myself that make sense. I asked Lorrie once what she throught the shapes on the wallpaper looked like, and she said ‘just swirls’. I suppose normal people don’t stare at everything and find other worlds. Sometimes I think I’d love to be like everyone else, just to fit in. But sometimes I think I’d miss the wonders of wallpaper. I don’t hate that part of myself.”

Sylvie and Lorrie looking through a magazine:

“She flicks the page. It’s all vests and skids. Spidery-looking hair crawling out of their vests. Their undies look like they’ve got a bunch of keys in there, a Fry’s Chocolate Cream, a bag of marbles and a shitload of other stuff they’re storing for later. Maybe that’s why fellas don’t need handbags.”

[Sylvia · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really liked this novel. It was unusual and well written. There’s a bit of the supernatural in it, so you have to be ok with that.

[TheBookSpine · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a coming of age story with a difference which is so well written that it flows effortlessly with sharp, cliché free imagery. The story is told in the first person from the viewpoints of the two main characters, Lorrie and Sylvie, who share alternating chapters in the book, Sylvie’s being in diary form. It begins in 1957 when thirteen year old Lorrie moves with her family from England to a Scottish island from where her mother originates.

Lorrie is a happy teenager and her outgoing personality and humorous outlook are a big part of her characterisation but she soon becomes frustrated with the slower pace of life on the island. She reflects on the differences between the people from her hometown and the island’s inhabitants and the effects of her new home.

‘Here, it wasn’t always possible to avoid someone who annoyed you. Instead of confrontation people made their faces stone walls. Even my mother was quieter than she was before we came…she fostered long silences and staring out at the peeling paint on the gate. I found the quiet so disturbing, I did anything to avoid it.’

When Lorrie sees that her next door neighbour, Sylvie, is the same age as her, she seeks to make friends but she finds this much harder than she had imagined. Sylvie is shy and withdrawn with a repressive mother who discourages Sylvie from any contact with Lorrie. That’s because Sylvie is different and her mother does everything she can to hide her secret. The relationship between Lorrie and Sylvie develops and is often strained over a three year period in which the character arcs of both girls develop significantly.

There are some really clever touches to the book which keep the prose varied and entertaining. Lorrie’s grandpa, or ‘Grumps’ as he affectionately known, owns a small family whiskey distillery and the mischievous Lorrie uses the terms she has learnt to describe everybody she meets. She provides insights into her view of others in terms of nose, palate, finish and overall which provides the humour reflective of her character.

It’s a great tale but the real backbone of the book for me was the characterisation of Lorrie and Sylvie who were really well conceived and effective for the two very different girls. The writing style for each was immediately defined by the tone and subtle dialect. The parents of each of the girls are also depicted effectively and there is a true sense of place on the island which provides a claustrophobic grip on the newcomers and Sylvie.

This is a really strong debut from Readman with an excellent, honest story and no pretention or whimsical attempts to please the reader. Having read this first, I’m now really looking forward to the short stories in Don’t Try This at Home.
Originally posted on thebookspine.com
Twitter @The_Book_Spine

[Ross Jeffery · Rating 5 out of 5]

An impressive debut novel that sees reality and fantasy entwine, Something Like Breathing proves that Readman has what it takes to produce a distinctive, full-length piece of work. However, her background as a short story writer features prominently throughout the book; each word, each image, each scene and minor character, has a heartfelt purpose. No space is wasted in this novel, and as the reader flits between viewpoints and learns more about each young woman, we also gain a beautiful insight into the complicated dynamic between female friendships and familial relationships.

Readman begins by transporting us back to the 1950’s, and to a remote Scottish island, a place where time itself seems to move much slower. The pacing of the entire novel is perfect – the girls fumble through their school terms and boring summers, milling around boys they fancy (well, who Lorrie fancies anyway) and avoiding endless family dramas. In many ways, it’s a typical coming-of-age story that is reminiscent of so many that have come before it. Readman delights us with a plethora of startling imagery, creating this faraway setting that (presumably) many of her readers have not had the pleasure of experiencing. Her background as a well-received short story writer is showcased in all its glory here. Every beautiful sentence takes us to nuanced corners in this seemingly mundane world. We feel the island chills, the relentless sun and never-ending days, the tension between the characters – particularly Lorrie and Sylvie – and the eclectic homes they inhabit on this island.

I read the whole novel almost with a sharp intake of breath, slowly letting go as I neared the end of the book. Readman makes some interesting and daring literary choices – most notably, with the interjections of the ‘evaluations’, a nod to her gentle Grandfather, a character who roots them firmly to the island and all of its wonderful history. I began to look forward to these sections, which appear whenever a new character impacts the story. It is in these moments that Readman’s writing shines brightest. As she has to consider each section – nose, palette, and finish – we are presented with new ways of describing a person, different angles in which to consider them by. Readman offers an alternative, exciting, beautiful view of what it means to be human, and the little things that make up our unique identities.

It isn’t only the human as the individual that Readman explores in Something Like Breathing. In fact, one of the most rewarding and enjoyable parts of the novel is the way in which she portrays the dynamic relationships between her characters, whether it be between friends, mother and daughter, star-crossed lovers, estranged siblings (which actually adds a refreshing comical element to the novel), or a lone father’s relationship with the rest of the world. Despite their battles, everyone is intent on keeping up appearances, capturing the attitude of the time that so many carried with them. This basic, ‘normal’ way of living doesn’t fit with Sylvie’s strangeness and Lorrie’s zest for life, which is where the basis of the story is formed. However, it is Sylvie’s colourful mother that interested me the most, although in many ways she is typical of a 1950’s housemother – obsessed with kitchenware and remaining house-proud, she flits through the novel like a hurricane, twisting and changing depending on what lies in her path. She shows one image to the world and another in the pages of Sylvie’s diary, the daughter she is nothing alike.

Of course, Lorrie and Sylvie’s tumultuous relationship is at the core of the narrative, and it reminds me so much of being young again, being confused about yet protective of those sometimes difficult female friendships that, especially as girl, we wholeheartedly throw ourselves into. While ‘friendship’ would perhaps be too strong a label to place on their relationship – especially at certain points in the novel, when Lorrie drifts towards the ‘cool’ crowd and finds herself swimming way out of her depth – there are certainly recognisable elements of that curious and beautiful female interaction. They fight, they hide things from each other, they reveal all in ways that they don’t know how to, and ultimately they care for one another, in their own confusing way. It is layered, and they are their own personalities after all. On the surface it doesn’t really seem like they should be friends in any sense of the word, so it is therefore even more precious when Readman offers us those pure, unfiltered moments of joy when the two girls do share a memory and navigate their hectic lives together.

Aside from being a beautiful coming-of-age type novel, documenting these strange years on this remote island, Something Like Breathing also treats us to the delightful world of magical realism. Magical realism is often lowly regarded when it comes to literary novels. In Something Like Breathing, the theme creeps up on us ever so gently, first in snippets, then in one great big sparkling wave. Sylvie is a poignant, intelligent young woman with a remarkable skill that, of course, isn’t fully appreciated in her tiny hometown. We follow her through her journey as she learns more about the power that has been bestowed upon her and how it interacts with the strange events unfolding throughout the island, each somehow placing her at the centre of each person’s existence. Sylvie’s section is given to us in the form of a diary, which is full of all the emotions that a young girl discovering herself would have. If it sounds like this is an unnecessary add-on to an already varied and interesting book, it’s not. The magical realism element supports the other themes, characters and setting of the novel, and fits perfectly with Readman’s language choices, which are never-ending in their beauty and intensity. A brilliant and daring path to take for a first novel, whose creation feels anything but safe.

It’s not hard to see that I loved this first novel from Readman, which was my first encounter with the writer. I knew she was primarily a short story writer, and that excited me from the offset. Being used to fitting their huge ideas into tiny spaces means they need to consider the value of every word, and even though this is a longer piece of work, Something Like Breathing carried that precious short story feel with it through every chapter. A bold yet softly hazy novel, this is a story that delights from the start right up until the very end.

[Ben Banyard · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've enjoyed reading the author's poetry and short stories since I first stumbled across her work four or five years ago. 'Something Like Breathing' combines Readman's trademark sense of humour, uncanny eye for detail, ear for dialogue and ability to spot things in everyday life that verge on the surreal or ridiculous.

I found the book absolutely riveting from beginning to end, thanks in no small part to the way that the narrative is told alternately from the two main characters' points of view. Both come from unusual, disfunctional backgrounds with slightly mysterious back-stories which allow the novel's oddly claustrophobic setting (an un-named Scottish island) to really come to life with a plot which interweaves loss, fitting in, coming of age, regret, mental health and even a sprinkling of magic!

I thoroughly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys off-beat indie literature. Loved it.

[Renee Felsch · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book was so underwhelming, beautifully written, yet underwhelming - and still I wanted more.
I'm not normally a judge a book by the cover kind of girl, but when I came across this book in my local bookshop, I thought the cover, the title and the blurb all sounded and looked so beautiful and right up my alley! Turns out, this was a book I had to trudge through.
I ended up downloading the audiobook and Eilidh Beaton's narration brought it to life a little more. I began listening to the audiobook around page 75, and I think the story started to pick up around page 90. In my opinion, this book could definitely have started at page 90 and continued on from Sylvie’s essay on her hobby of collecting kisses, this part is catching, insightful and quirky, enough that it kept me trudging through the rest of the book.
I don’t know much of Readmans’ work, but I have heard she is a short story writer, and that it where I think this makes more sense. The second half of the book works brilliantly as a short story. It’s more fast paced, unanswered questions etc. However, as a novel, I’m not sure this was good enough. There were so many storylines that were beautiful, yet completely unfinished (e.g. Zach and Lorries romance, Blaire’s accident and Cal blackmailing Lorrie, Lorries Dad and bakery). There are too many forgotten loose ends – not just purposeful loose ends, but they felt like they were just forgotten.
But I do have to give Readman props on her beautiful writing style, character creation and narrative voice, just lovely and poetic. Some of her lines and metaphors etc. were just stunning, and the technique that Lorrie uses to describe people (like the way her grumps describes his whisky - also love the nickname grumps) was a beautiful characterizing touch. My favourite characters were definitely Lorrie, Grumps, Rook Cutler and Joe Clark. There was great potential for characters like Zack and Seth, yet they felt like they really didn’t get their moment. Readman introduces me to these amazing characters then doesn’t really let me into their lives.
I think Bunny and Sylvie were meant to be the two most interesting parts of this novel, yet I felt I wasn’t fed enough information to really want to know them and their struggles. However, I want to commend Readman on the plotline of Lorries father, he was such a miniscule part of this novel and yet I was so moved by her descriptions and narration of his struggles with depression. Just breath-taking.
This book was a bit of a mess, yet entirely beautiful. To me, the beginning of this book could have been deleted and the space could have been used to tie up some of those plotlines that I mentioned earlier. The potential and the storyline were truly beautiful, I’m just not sure what was set out to be achieved really was.
Overall, I would recommend, but only if you have the patience and motivation to get through 90 or so pages until it gets really good.

[Jack Deighton · Rating 4 out of 5]

This novel of adolescent friendship is told in alternating sections from two viewpoints, one written in retrospect by Lorrie who at the book’s start has just moved from further south to live on a Scottish island that is her family’s ancestral home, and the other as extracts from the diary of Sylvie Tyler, who lives in the next door property.

Sylvie’s mother is strict with her and reluctant for her to make friends – with anyone. It is only gradually, through an incident which Lorri witnesses and the episodes Sylvie confides to her diary, that we learn exactly why.

Both strands are well written and capture their character’s viewpoints all but perfectly. That all but is one major caveat, which I shall come to.

The island is certainly Scottish. (Lorrie’s grandfather - Grumps - owns the distillery there.) Her observation that, “‘they’re alright’ was the most glowing review I’d heard anyone on the island give anyone. Compliments were spat out as reluctantly as saying the weather looked fine; acknowledging anything was okay was tempting fate,” could not encapsulate the national character of the 1950s (and later) any better.

Sylvie and Lorrie have their ups and downs but at one point as they grow older and boys begin to come into the equation Lorrie is swayed towards the more outgoing and freer spirited Blair Munro as a potential friend. Sylvie is the one who is more sensible, though. Adults and their ways are suitably mysterious.

Two things did not ring true for me. Despite no apparent connection with the place beyond her mother’s correspondence with someone living there and through them introducing tupperware to the island, Sylvie employs US terms such as ‘ain’t’ and ‘assignment’ (for homework) but above all, ‘kinda’. Sylvie also mentions a hound dog - not a traditional Scottish or even British usage - yet has the word fearty in the same sentence. These also bleed into Lorrie’s narrative - raise instead of rise, snuck for sneaked. Jarring. Then we had Lorrie’s mother and a workman, albeit one she’d known in school (and with whom it is obvious both still hold a torch for each other,) sit out one afternoon and sip beers. A woman drinking beer in public on a Scottish island in the 1950s? No. Just no. It wouldn’t have happened.

Though in both strands the writing is resolutely realistic Sylvie’s secret lends an element of the fantastical to the tale. Without it, though, the overall story would have to have been utterly different as it is the catalyst for the novel’s dénouement and Sylvie’s later fabled status on the island.

[Tracy Fells · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have been a fan of Angela Readman's short stories for several years, I love her writing voice and was excited to learn of her debut novel 'Something like Breathing.' Readman's quietly beautiful writing translates perfectly to the longer form of a novel. I was soon immersed in the lives of the two narrators, Lorrie and Sylvie (the story runs from 1957 to 1960) on their remote Scottish island. This is the story of their friendship and Sylvie's unusual gift. How exactly Sylvie is special is slowly revealed. Readman does not deal in glitzy tricks or twists and character is everything in this novel. I fell in love with the gentle and very wise soul of Sylvie and I didn't want it to end. I'm still thinking of the two girls ... Lorrie was a force to be reckoned with but I'm fretful for Sylvie let loose in a manipulative world - though she'd clearly inherited her mother's resilience and backbone. I'd love to know what happened next for both of them ...

[Chris Davies · Rating 4 out of 5]

What if you couldn't kiss anyone? Ever? Not in the way that the rest of the world can.

A bit of a slow burner, this one. Far more conventional in tone than Readman's brilliant short story collection 'Don't Try This At Home', in that the supernatural element to the story is tamped down, the story takes a while to get going. Half way through I was thinking it was okay but unspectacular. But the final third of this book, where all of the carefully laid threads are gathered together, is astonishing. When I found myself asking the question at the top of this review, I realised that there was so much more to this book than originally met the eye. And that's just one of the issues addressed - loneliness, coming of age, mental health and the vicissitudes of small town life all get an airing. It's all written in a nice, clear style with wonderful poetic flourishes (but not too much, thankfully).

One to stick with and to think about long after you've turned the final page.

[Lynda · Rating 2 out of 5]

A family move to an unnamed Scottish island to help the Grandad run the family distillery after the Gran dies.
Tough ole Grandad is thought not to be coping well but he’s a wily ole sort, good for testing the whisky & doing just what he wants to do!
Next door lives Sylvie… Sylvie & Lottie ( from the new family) same age, same school year are paired together as if they are close friends, however they are not. Lottie wants her boyfriend to be Zach, Sylvie’s stepbrother, Sylvie’s not sure about boys.. or girls really…. Sadly dominated by her Tupperware loving & selling Mother who decides what is best for Sylvie… until Sylvie leaves the island for the mainland.. last heard of in Edinburgh…

This a muddled novel of Scottish island folk who live in each other’s pockets trying to outdo each other. And with an undercurrent of …..

[Rosamund Taylor · Rating 3 out of 5]

Readman has a compelling, sensitive prose style that captures the attention and keeps this story flowing. Set in the late 50s and early 60s on an unnamed Scottish island, the novel focuses on Lorrie and Sylvie, neighbouring children. Lorrie is brave, happy to fit in and to make friends, while Sylvia is shy and struggles with an overbearing and censorious mother. I enjoyed reading this, but it's not a story with many incidents, and at the end I was left with a feeling of, "So what?" I wish it succeeded better in aspects other than the prose style: if only one of the main characters was given proper depth; if only the portrait of the island felt real and lived in; if only Readman achieved a sense of tension or resolution. That being said, I would read more of her work.

[Victoria · Rating 3 out of 5]

Going by the remote island setting for this book, I was hoping for something a little more nature focused with more descriptions of scenery, sea and weather. As it was, it could have been set in pretty much any remote Scottish village. There was a strong small-town vibe of everyone knowing your business and the usual pattern of being punished by the community for standing out, both of which I always find a little uncomfortable and claustrophobic to read about. However, all in all I'm glad I stuck with the book to the end because the various conflicts and character growth arcs came together in a satisfying and dramatic way. I particularly enjoyed the narrator's skill at slipping in and out of the Scottish accent.

[Elsa · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars — I’d never read anything like this before so this is definitely a book that’s going to stick w me. from the writing style to the plot, as well as the multiple povs and the themes addressed, pretty much every chapter brought a surprise. I really enjoyed reading from sylvie’s perspective and particularly liked the whole thing w the scrapbook (being v vague here as to not spoil). I found her v endearing and the plot line pertaining to her was overall quite touching. the island lifestyle described here is v much reminiscent of the banshees of inisherin so that’s what I was picturing throughout my reading. the insularity of such ways of life was v well portrayed. would recommend to anyone looking to read something new to get out of a rut or summat. thanks maria for the gift!

[Melissa · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars. How does a legend start? With a dead bird. With a sleeping girl. With a desperate man. With one family created and another falling apart. In an insulated island community where everyone knows everything about everybody, and nobody knows each other at all. This book is one of the best depictions I’ve read of the sort of complicated friendships girls sometimes form in their teens. I adored it.

[Liza · Rating 4 out of 5]

Highly entertaining slice of Scottish island life, rife with gossip, legends, locals, and kids stuck with parents who don't want them to dream bigger than the island itself!!!!

Lots of good descriptions, well developed characters and a unique narrator who "evaluates" the characters.....

Then, the story takes a weird and surprising left turn that completely changes what you think the story is actually about!!!

Great first novel and looking forward to more...

[tianna · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’m on the fence about this book. It really dragged on and was quite boring. I was annoyed about Sylvie’s strange abilities only really coming into play toward the end of the book. It could’ve been way more interesting if that had been a theme throughout the book. On the other hand though, I related to Sylvie as a character in a way I don’t often see in many books. The story did finally pick up and get interesting in the last third. I also really liked how it ended.

[Barrita · Rating 2 out of 5]

Hay algo simpático en la forma en que está escrito. Y algo chocante en lo realista que parece el chismorreo de pueblo. Sin embargo, realmente la historia parece no avanzar y se vuelve muy aburrida. Aunque aprecio la personalidad de las dos protagonistas, casi siempre detesto la narración en primera persona y ésta no fue una de las pocas excepciones.

[Anika · Rating 3 out of 5]

2.5 stars. Very underwhelming. I always felt like something was missing. Kinda reminds me of the books by Helen Oyeyemi - the book really isn’t bad but it felt like the author barely scratched the surface. There was a lack of depth/character development/storyline, and I just didn’t care enough to give this book more than 2.5 stars.

[Jonathan · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book featured beautiful prose but there were elements that detracted from my enjoyment. These included an unconvincing (and perhaps unnecessary?) historical setting with a number of anachronisms, a very slow start and predictable, weak storyline. The quality of the writing was so strong that I will definitely seek out the authors' other work though.

[Anika · Rating 5 out of 5]

The rich, slow way that time passes for children and the intensity of their hopes and frustrations is portrayed beautifully in this book. I was totally absorbed.
Readman employs magical realism lightly, skillfully. Something Like Breathing places the supernatural among very ordinary lives and lets ordinariness sing.

[Mew · Rating 4 out of 5]

Set on a Scottish island which in itself is enough to make me want to read a book. I found the characters intriguing and whilst there wasn't a major storyline as such, it did have slight intrigue and interest. I would have loved to have had more of the book concerned with Sylvie and Lorrie's relationship as I felt that lacked a little something. Otherwise, a very enjoyable read.

[Natalie · Rating 2 out of 5]

The writing style was interesting, sometimes beautiful and sometimes I had to reread what I read because I didn't know what happened. Overall... not much did happen and I felt sort of bored. I'm not generally a fan of magic realism except on some circumstances but this was not my cup of tea.

[Cindy Kline · Rating 5 out of 5]

Just read this book

It’s full of feelings and gifts and undercurrents. It’s all about what people do without thinking how it hurts others, and a person who cares enough to fix that.