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Abra
Abra Phillips has achieved the right and comfortable life – the one that by all accounts, she belongs in – with a successful and kind husband, two beloved children, a home that reflects prosperity and satisfaction. But is it the right life for her? On what looks like a desperate, maybe crazy impulse, she decides that it’s not. Instead she takes off and creates a radically solitary, self-sufficient existence without family, companionship, guilt or regret. For almost a decade she moves to her own rhythms, comfortingly certain that she is where she belongs – until the daughter she left behind, now grown, tracks her down with her own accusations and questions. But what is ‘the right life’, and how obliged is anyone to follow unspoken but powerful rules? Abra is about questions of selfishness, obligations, and the desire and need to learn and pursue a person’s real nature. Globe and "An impressive first novel...a compelling story" Calgary "Abra is the book of the season, a novel to be savoured for its fine writing, its perceptions, its feelings, its moral and emotional dilemmas...a gripping missing persons story" Publishers Abra is "a strangely haunting character" London Free "Joan Barfoot has an enormous story-telling capability, and it's impossible to put this, her first novel, down until the very last page." Hamilton "Abra is an absorbing story of a woman who found undiscovered strengths, a new identity and her very soul, and it will be appealing reading to anyone who has ever dreamed about taking a trip to freedom". Ottawa "appealing in its relevance and timeliness" Books in Canada (Sandra Martin): "Abra is a strange and important book... It is a risky book, exploring new territory, and it works." Toronto "an honestly felt passage through loss and chaos to discovery" Sheila Fischman (Toronto Star): "Abra Phillips is one of the best realized, most appealing (and troubling) women I've met in a novel since Margaret Laurence's Hagar Shipley." U of T "an exceptionally accomplished first skilfully structured, very well-written, intelligent" Times Literary "above all a novel about personal integrity"
240 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1978
About the author
Joan Barfoot
18 books34 followersJoan Barfoot is an award-winning novelist whose work has been compared internationally with that of Anne Tyler, Carol Shields, Margaret Drabble and Margaret Atwood. Her novels include Luck in 2005, nominated for the Scotiabank Giller Prize, as well as Abra, which won the Books in Canada first novels award, Dancing in the Dark, which became an award-winning Canadian entry in the Cannes and Toronto Film Festivals, Duet for Three, Family News, Plain Jane, Charlotte and Claudia Keeping in Touch, Some Things About Flying, and Getting Over Edgar. Her 2001 novel, Critical Injuries, was longlisted for the 2002 Man Booker Prize and shortlisted for the 2001 Trillium Book Award. In 1992 she was given the Marian Engel Award. Also a journalist during much of her career, she lives in London, Ontario, Canada.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 63 reviews
July 15, 2026
Could this be the next Stoner, or is that just my wishful thinking? I do believe this is a masterpiece. It should be a modern classic, but somehow got lost, waiting to be rediscovered 48 years after its original publication.
Faber will rerelease it with an afterword from the author, and we can only hope that it will receive at least some of the attention it deserves.
It is easy to say it should have its place on any must-read feminist novels list. This is a story about a woman named Abra, who inexplicably abandoned her family to live a lonely life in a remote area. Her gender does play a big part in the book.
"the image of a crazy bitch-lady living nowhere by herself was not a bad one, if the purpose was to be left alone"
But I do think it has more in common with Walden, Into the Wild, or No Longer Human, because at heart this is a novel about isolation, and how freedom and liberation can sometimes mean the opportunity to choose to be lonely.
"I did not want to affect or change life here; I wanted just to be part of it, have it accept me."
"I became an animal, which is a fine thing."
"I am indeed just like a cabbage, sitting around waiting for the sun to shine or the rain to fall."
Thanks to the publisher for an advance copy of the rerelease.
Faber will rerelease it with an afterword from the author, and we can only hope that it will receive at least some of the attention it deserves.
It is easy to say it should have its place on any must-read feminist novels list. This is a story about a woman named Abra, who inexplicably abandoned her family to live a lonely life in a remote area. Her gender does play a big part in the book.
"the image of a crazy bitch-lady living nowhere by herself was not a bad one, if the purpose was to be left alone"
But I do think it has more in common with Walden, Into the Wild, or No Longer Human, because at heart this is a novel about isolation, and how freedom and liberation can sometimes mean the opportunity to choose to be lonely.
"I did not want to affect or change life here; I wanted just to be part of it, have it accept me."
"I became an animal, which is a fine thing."
"I am indeed just like a cabbage, sitting around waiting for the sun to shine or the rain to fall."
Thanks to the publisher for an advance copy of the rerelease.
April 24, 2026
Aka *Gaining Ground, Canadian author Joan Barfoot’s provocative, exceptionally gripping, debut novel first appeared in 1978 since then it’s become a cult classic. It’s narrated by Abra a woman in her forties, for nine years she’s lived alone in an isolated cabin somewhere northwest of Toronto. An unexpected encounter with estranged daughter Katie leads Abra to reflect on her previous existence, one she considers wholly separate from the person she is now. When Barfoot was writing this, she was based in a communal co-op, increasingly seduced by the idea of solitude, a theme that’s central to her narrative. But its concerns extend far beyond that.
Abra was once the sort of housewife whose lives of quiet desperation featured in Betty Friedan’s infamous The Feminine Mystique – inspiration for Betty in Mad Men. Abra did everything expected of her, unquestioningly following her society’s dominant script for women. At nineteen she married suitably-eligible Stephen, supporting him in menial jobs while he advanced his career. Later she retreated to their home to raise the requisite two children, pausing to host dinner parties for Stephen’s business associates and their wives. Abra ensured she met the required standards for women in their circle: long, lustrous hair and carefully-chosen, feminine outfits for public outings. She constantly refers to Stephen as a ‘good’ husband but he’s clearly what would now be viewed as coercively controlling. Abra leaves work at his bidding, she lives in the houses he chooses, with the décor he considers befitting to his professional status. Her tight bond with her infant son is shattered at Stephen’s insistence - it eats into time he thinks should be devoted to Stephen’s needs.
Abra’s marriage lasts for well over a decade but she’s more and more unsettled, she sleeps too much, smokes too much, finds socialising overwhelming. An old schoolfriend, also a prosperous middle-class mother, who recently died by suicide starts to become a fixation. Abra too decides to die but hers is a symbolic death. One day, using money inherited from her grandmother she simply leaves and never looks back – rather like Laura Brown in The Hours. She buys a remote cabin, a plot of land and reinvents herself. Abandoning the trappings of conventional attractiveness, she crops her hair, and dispenses with mirrors. The lack of mirrors ensures she never sees herself as others see her but never comes into confrontation with herself either. It seems it’s the unexamined life she strives for. Abra, although the name no longer seems to apply, possesses no watches or clocks, instead adjusting to the seasons.
Like a snake shedding its skin, Abra sloughs off her assigned roles as “the lover, the giver, the doer, the mother, the wife.” Her body’s transformed into a muscular force rather than a decorative object. She pours her “passion” into cultivating her garden, growing food, potting preserves, crafting. Hard not to see the influence of the then-thriving Canadian back-to-the-land groups reflected in Barfoot’s portrayal of Abra’s way of life. Like these, the former Abra found contemporary consumerism hollow and pointless, horrified by scenes of violence streamed into her home via television - it’s never stated but likely reporting from the ongoing Vietnam war. Her retreat isn’t simply personal; it’s a wholesale refusal of her society’s conflicts and mainstream values.
Barfoot was writing close to fifty years ago but there’s something very ‘now’ about her story: rampant consumer capitalism; the flood of images of war; pressure to appear as the "perfect" mother complete with picture-perfect house and picture-perfect "looks". Abra’s careful cultivation of land, refusal to domesticate animals, eating only local produce, buying only what’s needed is redolent of resurgent Green lifestyle movements; and of the growing exodus from cities following Covid. But there’s also something individualistic, less realist, more conservative fantasy, about it. Abra’s story raises numerous questions. Is Abra a feminist ascetic, early eco-warrior, or iconoclast? Or is she constructing a habitat akin to Woolf’s room of her own founded on economic privilege? Is hers a radical political act? Or is it entirely selfish? Divorced as it is from any broader political engagement or activism. As the novel unfolds, these kinds of questions accumulate, highlighting broader cultural and philosophical issues.
The arrival of now-adult Katie adds concepts of the maternal to these issues, rooted in cultural expectations and taboos, and in biological essentialism. Then, as now, mothers who left their children were perceived as monstrous, unnatural creatures – at least in western societies, in many other countries it’s common for mothers to leave to find work. Even expressing ambivalence about mothering, as Rachel Cusk discovered, is labelled “deeply suspect.” Suspicions only defused if linked to some form of “madness.” And it’s these kinds of suspicions and oppositions that Katie introduces to the story. As well as reflections on masking and social conformity. Katie’s perspective undermines Abra’s account. Is Abra truly liberated? Someone who’s opted for freedom over duty. Or is her hermit-like seclusion the sign of a “breakdown” requiring medical intervention? Katie, the prospective archaeologist, digs away at Abra, searching for fragments that pieced together will yield answers to these questions.
Katie’s excavations connect to ethical, philosophical debates around solitude versus community engagement dating back to Rousseau versus Hume and beyond. But they also, to me at least, seemed to tap into a Canadian take on Thoreau’s transcendentalism. Abra can be interpreted as a kind of feminist Thoreau - without the mum quietly providing food and doing laundry in the background. All in all, this is an incredibly fertile piece, a fascinating counter to much of the contemporary literature of motherhood - all-too-often founded on the notion of mothering and reproduction as givens. Barfoot’s writing is supremely disciplined, her story’s incredibly thought-provoking, surprisingly relevant. Much of the narrative projects a quiet intensity but there are passages – Abra’s plotting to escape – that read like a thriller. It’s hard to know where to position this for people who haven’t read it, there are echoes of Haushofer’s The Wall, as well as Margaret Atwood’s earlier novels. But, for me, it’s also memorably distinctive.
*Gaining Ground was the UK title, currently out of print but due to be republished by Faber later in 2026
Abra was once the sort of housewife whose lives of quiet desperation featured in Betty Friedan’s infamous The Feminine Mystique – inspiration for Betty in Mad Men. Abra did everything expected of her, unquestioningly following her society’s dominant script for women. At nineteen she married suitably-eligible Stephen, supporting him in menial jobs while he advanced his career. Later she retreated to their home to raise the requisite two children, pausing to host dinner parties for Stephen’s business associates and their wives. Abra ensured she met the required standards for women in their circle: long, lustrous hair and carefully-chosen, feminine outfits for public outings. She constantly refers to Stephen as a ‘good’ husband but he’s clearly what would now be viewed as coercively controlling. Abra leaves work at his bidding, she lives in the houses he chooses, with the décor he considers befitting to his professional status. Her tight bond with her infant son is shattered at Stephen’s insistence - it eats into time he thinks should be devoted to Stephen’s needs.
Abra’s marriage lasts for well over a decade but she’s more and more unsettled, she sleeps too much, smokes too much, finds socialising overwhelming. An old schoolfriend, also a prosperous middle-class mother, who recently died by suicide starts to become a fixation. Abra too decides to die but hers is a symbolic death. One day, using money inherited from her grandmother she simply leaves and never looks back – rather like Laura Brown in The Hours. She buys a remote cabin, a plot of land and reinvents herself. Abandoning the trappings of conventional attractiveness, she crops her hair, and dispenses with mirrors. The lack of mirrors ensures she never sees herself as others see her but never comes into confrontation with herself either. It seems it’s the unexamined life she strives for. Abra, although the name no longer seems to apply, possesses no watches or clocks, instead adjusting to the seasons.
Like a snake shedding its skin, Abra sloughs off her assigned roles as “the lover, the giver, the doer, the mother, the wife.” Her body’s transformed into a muscular force rather than a decorative object. She pours her “passion” into cultivating her garden, growing food, potting preserves, crafting. Hard not to see the influence of the then-thriving Canadian back-to-the-land groups reflected in Barfoot’s portrayal of Abra’s way of life. Like these, the former Abra found contemporary consumerism hollow and pointless, horrified by scenes of violence streamed into her home via television - it’s never stated but likely reporting from the ongoing Vietnam war. Her retreat isn’t simply personal; it’s a wholesale refusal of her society’s conflicts and mainstream values.
Barfoot was writing close to fifty years ago but there’s something very ‘now’ about her story: rampant consumer capitalism; the flood of images of war; pressure to appear as the "perfect" mother complete with picture-perfect house and picture-perfect "looks". Abra’s careful cultivation of land, refusal to domesticate animals, eating only local produce, buying only what’s needed is redolent of resurgent Green lifestyle movements; and of the growing exodus from cities following Covid. But there’s also something individualistic, less realist, more conservative fantasy, about it. Abra’s story raises numerous questions. Is Abra a feminist ascetic, early eco-warrior, or iconoclast? Or is she constructing a habitat akin to Woolf’s room of her own founded on economic privilege? Is hers a radical political act? Or is it entirely selfish? Divorced as it is from any broader political engagement or activism. As the novel unfolds, these kinds of questions accumulate, highlighting broader cultural and philosophical issues.
The arrival of now-adult Katie adds concepts of the maternal to these issues, rooted in cultural expectations and taboos, and in biological essentialism. Then, as now, mothers who left their children were perceived as monstrous, unnatural creatures – at least in western societies, in many other countries it’s common for mothers to leave to find work. Even expressing ambivalence about mothering, as Rachel Cusk discovered, is labelled “deeply suspect.” Suspicions only defused if linked to some form of “madness.” And it’s these kinds of suspicions and oppositions that Katie introduces to the story. As well as reflections on masking and social conformity. Katie’s perspective undermines Abra’s account. Is Abra truly liberated? Someone who’s opted for freedom over duty. Or is her hermit-like seclusion the sign of a “breakdown” requiring medical intervention? Katie, the prospective archaeologist, digs away at Abra, searching for fragments that pieced together will yield answers to these questions.
Katie’s excavations connect to ethical, philosophical debates around solitude versus community engagement dating back to Rousseau versus Hume and beyond. But they also, to me at least, seemed to tap into a Canadian take on Thoreau’s transcendentalism. Abra can be interpreted as a kind of feminist Thoreau - without the mum quietly providing food and doing laundry in the background. All in all, this is an incredibly fertile piece, a fascinating counter to much of the contemporary literature of motherhood - all-too-often founded on the notion of mothering and reproduction as givens. Barfoot’s writing is supremely disciplined, her story’s incredibly thought-provoking, surprisingly relevant. Much of the narrative projects a quiet intensity but there are passages – Abra’s plotting to escape – that read like a thriller. It’s hard to know where to position this for people who haven’t read it, there are echoes of Haushofer’s The Wall, as well as Margaret Atwood’s earlier novels. But, for me, it’s also memorably distinctive.
*Gaining Ground was the UK title, currently out of print but due to be republished by Faber later in 2026
March 21, 2026
🍁🇨🇦—Though the author is practically a neighbour, this was the first of her books I’d thought to read, and only because it was highly recommended by GR friend, John, as Barfoot's best. I enjoyed it very much, and I'm grateful for the recommendation. Though Abra (aka Gaining Ground in the U.K.) is her first novel, I thought it was very well-written and intelligent. It was published nearly a half-century ago, in 1978, and might have been seen as “risky” for the time as it looks at two issues not commonly explored in any depth back then: mental health and women’s role in marriage and in society. But even now, in 2025, it feels timely and important.
I think the best, most succinct description comes from the author herself: From a comfortable if idle middle-class, urban life, Abra abandons husband and children to live according to her own rhythms and rules. Years later her now-grown daughter finds her, raising questions about duty, love, selfishness, sanity and the nature of motherhood.
After a decade of marriage and children aged 9 and 14, Abra drifts deeply into mental and emotional distress. She becomes distant—detached even—from her children, her husband, and from all facets of domestic life. She’s now viewing her world through a fog.
Only when a run-down, isolated cabin comes into view does she suddenly see things clearly, as though this is meant to be “home”. She returns to her family that night, planning to leave the next day. Her husband can see something’s wrong. He asks what it is and offers to help. He loves her and is willing to do anything, but she doesn’t want to talk about it. She seems to be almost in a trance. She believes there’s no stopping this now; she must get her things in order. She’s got to leave.
And with that, her life as a wife and mother is over. She turns away and never once looks back. As the days, weeks, and months pass, she soon forgets all that was part of “that other life”. Now she lives without clocks or mirrors. She lives as a hermit, grows her own food, chops wood for heat. And, eventually, she forgets her own name, until a stranger appears in her garden one morning and shyly asks, Abra? The young woman looks familiar; Abra struggles to think who she might be. It’s her daughter. She’s finally found her, and she’s looking for answers. But she might not find them.
I found Abra to be an excellent read. It’s a novel that's full of contradictions. I wasn’t terribly satisfied with the ending, but I know many others will be. We all see things differently, and I suppose that’s what makes life interesting.🙂
4 “Be-True-to-Yourself” stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐
I think the best, most succinct description comes from the author herself: From a comfortable if idle middle-class, urban life, Abra abandons husband and children to live according to her own rhythms and rules. Years later her now-grown daughter finds her, raising questions about duty, love, selfishness, sanity and the nature of motherhood.
After a decade of marriage and children aged 9 and 14, Abra drifts deeply into mental and emotional distress. She becomes distant—detached even—from her children, her husband, and from all facets of domestic life. She’s now viewing her world through a fog.
Only when a run-down, isolated cabin comes into view does she suddenly see things clearly, as though this is meant to be “home”. She returns to her family that night, planning to leave the next day. Her husband can see something’s wrong. He asks what it is and offers to help. He loves her and is willing to do anything, but she doesn’t want to talk about it. She seems to be almost in a trance. She believes there’s no stopping this now; she must get her things in order. She’s got to leave.
And with that, her life as a wife and mother is over. She turns away and never once looks back. As the days, weeks, and months pass, she soon forgets all that was part of “that other life”. Now she lives without clocks or mirrors. She lives as a hermit, grows her own food, chops wood for heat. And, eventually, she forgets her own name, until a stranger appears in her garden one morning and shyly asks, Abra? The young woman looks familiar; Abra struggles to think who she might be. It’s her daughter. She’s finally found her, and she’s looking for answers. But she might not find them.
I found Abra to be an excellent read. It’s a novel that's full of contradictions. I wasn’t terribly satisfied with the ending, but I know many others will be. We all see things differently, and I suppose that’s what makes life interesting.🙂
4 “Be-True-to-Yourself” stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐
March 20, 2025
One of my all time favourites, terrific mother/daughter exploration. She's from my GR friend Jodi's hometown even. Wonderful writer, first read this one over 30 years ago.
ps Jodi, I see it is now called Abra in both Aussie and US kindles for some reason. I only found a few of her books available, but I've put three on my WTR list that are there and I haven't read. I cannot believe she isn't more read as her writing is sublime.
ps Jodi, I see it is now called Abra in both Aussie and US kindles for some reason. I only found a few of her books available, but I've put three on my WTR list that are there and I haven't read. I cannot believe she isn't more read as her writing is sublime.
June 16, 2015
When working at the State Library many years ago I read this book, as I was interested in reading books by the Feminist Press, at the time. Some of their books were of no interest to me, however Gaining Ground resonated with me as at the time I was going through the whole idea of wanting to end my marriage. Which I did, however the book meant more to me at that time, I believe because of my personal circumstances. Over the years I thought of the book many times, and could never find it again, especially once I had left my work at the library. Eventually after not being able to buy it anywhere I search e-bay and was able to find a good second hand copy. Now I have my very own copy and can read it to my hearts content. I have found that even over so many years, the story has not lost its appeal to me. It might not be for everyone, but I love the guts of the woman in this story and how she copes with living in an isolated, cold environment and her eventual decision that she makes. Wonderful story.
June 11, 2017
Wonderful. So much food for thought. I never re-read books, but this is one of the first I'll make an exception for. A book every woman should read.
August 6, 2024
It's not often that one book will completely take over all my reading & force me to give it my full attention until it is completed—but that's exactly what happened here. Flinty & unsparing, refusing easy answers or expected explanations at every turn, this is a novel unapologetically built around an unlikable character which makes it in turn a rather unlovable little book.
Or I imagine that's the case for many, & the main reason why this remains largely unknown outside of a small (but as reviews here demonstrate, extremely devoted) cultish following. But I loved Abra from the jump; or at least deeply respected the way she—& so by extension we—grapple so ruthlessly with the thorny issues of personal autonomy, social/familial responsibility, kinship, the right to self-determination, beautifully delineated through Barfoot's sedulous, coldly elegant prose. An instant all-time favorite.
"And then I left them, left all of it. Nothing in particular, but something began to happen, and it ended in the spring I came here. The ending was clear and distinct and cold and final; I search, but cannot find the beginning. I have snapshots in my mind, but there are no answers; only labels on the back."
Or I imagine that's the case for many, & the main reason why this remains largely unknown outside of a small (but as reviews here demonstrate, extremely devoted) cultish following. But I loved Abra from the jump; or at least deeply respected the way she—& so by extension we—grapple so ruthlessly with the thorny issues of personal autonomy, social/familial responsibility, kinship, the right to self-determination, beautifully delineated through Barfoot's sedulous, coldly elegant prose. An instant all-time favorite.
"And then I left them, left all of it. Nothing in particular, but something began to happen, and it ended in the spring I came here. The ending was clear and distinct and cold and final; I search, but cannot find the beginning. I have snapshots in my mind, but there are no answers; only labels on the back."
April 8, 2014
Looks at a woman who's left her family - successful husband and two children - to live by herself in a cabin on several wooded acres. It is interesting to consider the roles women maintain as mothers and wives in our society and what it means when they leave those roles. Though this book is sometimes sad, but it is always insightful.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
A really interesting novel. It opens with Abra at work in her garden, being visited by her daughter. She had abandoned her family a few years back, and her daughter, Katie, is seeking answers. And a is telling her own story, so we go back as she remembers her former life. She married young, has children, and a relatively affluent lifestyle. A nice big house, but it doesn't feel like home. When her son is born, she forms an intense bond with him, but Stephan, her husband, makes her see that it is too much, makes her go out and leave him with a babysitter, after that, the bond snaps, and from them on, she seems to become disconnected from her family. She struggles to find her place. She comes across a cabin with some land, very remote, and eventually, walks out on her family to live there alone.
We are in Abra's head, which can be a bit uncomfortable at times, but she is very honest and acknowledges that what she has done is selfish and will have damaged the family she left behind, but felt she couldn't go on as she was, and that may have just left different scars anyway. She is a fascinating character that I don't think I'll forget in a hurry. She leaves the reader, (this one anyway), with plenty to ponder. I bet it would lead to some lovely book group discussions.
This edition has an afterward by the author where she talks of people's reactions to And a when she goes on a book your to promote the book. Also very interesting.
*Many thanks to Netgally and Faber for a copy in exchange for an honest opinion.*
We are in Abra's head, which can be a bit uncomfortable at times, but she is very honest and acknowledges that what she has done is selfish and will have damaged the family she left behind, but felt she couldn't go on as she was, and that may have just left different scars anyway. She is a fascinating character that I don't think I'll forget in a hurry. She leaves the reader, (this one anyway), with plenty to ponder. I bet it would lead to some lovely book group discussions.
This edition has an afterward by the author where she talks of people's reactions to And a when she goes on a book your to promote the book. Also very interesting.
*Many thanks to Netgally and Faber for a copy in exchange for an honest opinion.*
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
This novel is in equal parts beautiful and devastating, and I found myself connecting to it on a very human level.
In Gaining Ground we are guided through the life of a woman called Abra, who 10 years prior had abandoned her family to live a life of solitude in a remote old hunting lodge out in the sticks.
She didn’t give a reason for this at the time, and she has seemingly forgotten a great deal of her previous life in those 10 years spent alone, but the book starts as her daughter, who is now 18 years old, tracks her down and encroaches upon the self-imposed exile that Abra has been living under. Abra’s memories start flooding back and we see her life up unto that point, we see her get a job, we see her meet and marry her husband, we see her have two children, a boy and a girl... and then we see her walk away from it all.
The book dares you to judge it’s protagonist, to look down on someone who has shirked their parental responsibilities and run away from a life that they created, leaving those that loved her and depended on her behind, but there is a profound level of understanding behind the way this book is written, as well as it’s characters actions, and I found myself utterly absorbed.
This is a book about empathy and connection; about responsibilities and what we owe to those around us.
It’s about making mistakes and allowing ourselves to be forgiven.
It’s about memory and alternate ways of living and about assessing what makes us feel whole and connected to the environments in which we chose to live.
I really liked this book.
Thank you to the publisher, Faber & Faber, for the proof copy. Whilst I finished the book prior to (re)release, I didn’t have the chance to write this review or give feedback until now, but I hope the final copy had it’s spelling mistakes corrected because there were many. That being said, it didn’t take away from my experience and I would still highly recommend this book, particularly to 1) those who can relate to (or simply appreciate) a well-written and messy mother-daughter dynamic, but also 2) those who have ever felt they wanted to retreat and hide away from life – let this book be your retreat.
4.5 stars
In Gaining Ground we are guided through the life of a woman called Abra, who 10 years prior had abandoned her family to live a life of solitude in a remote old hunting lodge out in the sticks.
She didn’t give a reason for this at the time, and she has seemingly forgotten a great deal of her previous life in those 10 years spent alone, but the book starts as her daughter, who is now 18 years old, tracks her down and encroaches upon the self-imposed exile that Abra has been living under. Abra’s memories start flooding back and we see her life up unto that point, we see her get a job, we see her meet and marry her husband, we see her have two children, a boy and a girl... and then we see her walk away from it all.
The book dares you to judge it’s protagonist, to look down on someone who has shirked their parental responsibilities and run away from a life that they created, leaving those that loved her and depended on her behind, but there is a profound level of understanding behind the way this book is written, as well as it’s characters actions, and I found myself utterly absorbed.
This is a book about empathy and connection; about responsibilities and what we owe to those around us.
It’s about making mistakes and allowing ourselves to be forgiven.
It’s about memory and alternate ways of living and about assessing what makes us feel whole and connected to the environments in which we chose to live.
I really liked this book.
Thank you to the publisher, Faber & Faber, for the proof copy. Whilst I finished the book prior to (re)release, I didn’t have the chance to write this review or give feedback until now, but I hope the final copy had it’s spelling mistakes corrected because there were many. That being said, it didn’t take away from my experience and I would still highly recommend this book, particularly to 1) those who can relate to (or simply appreciate) a well-written and messy mother-daughter dynamic, but also 2) those who have ever felt they wanted to retreat and hide away from life – let this book be your retreat.
4.5 stars
November 25, 2024
Was für ein Buch – zu Unrecht in Vergessenheit geraten. Meisterhaft. Radikal. Eine feingesponnene Innenschau, ein Frauenporträt, das mit Marlen Haushofers „Die Wand“ ein wunderbares Double Feature abgibt.
(passed down to me by my aunt and mother - which I find most wonderful.)
Siehe auch:
Backlisted. Episode 215.
(passed down to me by my aunt and mother - which I find most wonderful.)
Siehe auch:
Backlisted. Episode 215.
February 8, 2013
One of my favourites. Good for discussion.
March 8, 2013
My favorite book of all!
May 16, 2017
A remarkable and challenging book. I will have more to say, but want to reread the novel and reconsider my thoughts before putting them down.
March 3, 2019
I loved reading this book. It allowed me to contact that part of myself that has often wondered could I do it. How close am I to doing it. And what would I reach if I did. Would I gain ground. A story of impossible bravery, survival and reconciliation.
March 24, 2021
I've read this book twice. Once at age around 30, again in my late sixties. I adored it first time around and felt an urgent need to reread it and see if it still held meaning for me. I scoured second hand bookshelves for years and finally snapped up a slightly battered edition in the good old dark green colour of The Women's Press - legend!
And I still loved it. In some of the same ways - adoring how the wilderness that Abra retreated to was a character in its own right and feeling bereft for the land at the thought she might choose to leave. Feeling triumphant that she had bravely walked away from a traditional woman's life to claim her own identity. Her determination and physicality.
Yes this time around I noticed a few things such as a total absence of any mention of sexual feelings or managing menstruation. Also that there are some very dense paragraphs. But that's all absolutely fine. I still love it and consider one of the most influential novels I have ever read.
And I still loved it. In some of the same ways - adoring how the wilderness that Abra retreated to was a character in its own right and feeling bereft for the land at the thought she might choose to leave. Feeling triumphant that she had bravely walked away from a traditional woman's life to claim her own identity. Her determination and physicality.
Yes this time around I noticed a few things such as a total absence of any mention of sexual feelings or managing menstruation. Also that there are some very dense paragraphs. But that's all absolutely fine. I still love it and consider one of the most influential novels I have ever read.
December 24, 2019
I found this topic very interesting. It's about a woman who chucks away her life and goes to live by herself, living off the land, in isolation.
I grew up loving "Hatchet", "My Side of the Mountain", "Island of the Blue Dolphins", "Cry Wolf", and "Julie of the Wolves".
I often daydreamed about escaping my family and school, then marriage and children by leaving to be alone in the wilderness, and being away from all the pressures and expectations from other people. This book really dives into what that would look like. I can say it cured me, for sure! Not the life I want, not at all. I really appreciate this novel, it was very "inner", and explored what that would be like and what sort of person you would have to turn into in order to accomplish it.
I grew up loving "Hatchet", "My Side of the Mountain", "Island of the Blue Dolphins", "Cry Wolf", and "Julie of the Wolves".
I often daydreamed about escaping my family and school, then marriage and children by leaving to be alone in the wilderness, and being away from all the pressures and expectations from other people. This book really dives into what that would look like. I can say it cured me, for sure! Not the life I want, not at all. I really appreciate this novel, it was very "inner", and explored what that would be like and what sort of person you would have to turn into in order to accomplish it.
July 24, 2016
I first read this book in the late '80s, when its (American or British, at any rate) title was Gaining Ground. It was upsetting and fascinating. At 48, I am less upset, but still pretty fascinated at the deconstruction of a woman's experience of losing her self in marriage and children. When I got the book, it was published by Woman's Press, with their distinctive diagonal zebra stripes on the cover. I am nostalgic for that Press. At any rate, it is interesting to read, and to try to figure out whether the protagonist is a symbol for feminist self-fulfilment, or selfish and also alienated from humans. Well worth reading.
April 16, 2017
This book has an interesting plot: what would happen if you walked away from your current life, and started a new life. Abra is a wife and mother, and one day decides to move to a small house out in the country--without telling anyone in her family what she is doing. She had been left a small sum of money in a will, and Abra uses this to purchase the property and to live on. She is enjoying life, until years later, when her daughter tracks her down. Very enjoyable.
August 17, 2022
Read in 1979 and still remembered in 2022. Added now as the friend I borrowed it from is staying.
July 22, 2026
3.5 stars
Beautifully written, this was an original and moving story. I loved the nature descriptions, I could vividly picture the cabin and all of its surroundings. However, I really did not like Abra. Her motives, her choices and actions at often times frustrated me. I found her too trusting and her inner monologue quite annoying. An interesting divide between character and writing.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for kindly providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review. #GainingGround #NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
Beautifully written, this was an original and moving story. I loved the nature descriptions, I could vividly picture the cabin and all of its surroundings. However, I really did not like Abra. Her motives, her choices and actions at often times frustrated me. I found her too trusting and her inner monologue quite annoying. An interesting divide between character and writing.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for kindly providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review. #GainingGround #NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
November 29, 2019
Chilling.
July 1, 2024
talvez o melhor livro que li em 23 anos! o que me lembra que a vida ainda tem muito para oferecer
Read
October 9, 2021Don’t be defeated, have the courage to believe in yourself and, no matter how selfish it may seem to those around you, do what is best for yourself, otherwise be the sacrificial lamb? If others aren’t listening to you and taking heed of your distress, you need to reflect upon “different planets, different language … fly away?” Fortitude, belief in yourself, courage - like it/lump it/learn to live with it/leave it?
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 28, 2018
This is a very simple book with clear settings and a slow plot. It is mostly the main characters internal monologue and confused musings about herself. There was enough plot and dialogue though, so it wasn't too boring. I found the first few chapters pretty disturbing and cold and sad but the rest of the book explains where all that came from.
Read
August 30, 2015I HAVE NO RECS IF YOU'RE SPECIFICALLY LOOKING FOR FICTION ABOUT PEOPLE RECOVERING FROM INVOLUNTARY ISOLATION, BUT I CAN REC A NOVEL ABOUT A WOMAN WHO JUST SAYS FUCK IT TO BEING IN SOCIETY AND GOES OFF TO LIVE IN A CABIN IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE. IT'S CALLED GAINING GROUND BY JOAN BARFOOT AND IT IS A++.
October 26, 2013
This is a must read, especially if you own enough land to make a go of it. Forrest Pritchard shows you how to make better money going organic gradually, and changing your market places. However, see reviews by real farmers who have actually used some of Forrest's tips to make my review even better.
July 3, 2026
Absolutely fascinating.
So brutally honest, truthful and accurate that it feels autobiographical. Even in moments where I hated the narrator, or she described emotions I have never had and never will (such as being a neurotic mother), her every thought, emotion and action was utterly real and comprehensible, it really felt like living in the mind of another and rang true. The book also does not shy away from giving a fair, detailed depiction of her husband and children in how painfully they are affected, how deeply they try for the time period - they feel like real, distinct individuals whose sorrow and confusion is gut wrenching, not cardboard cutouts to dismiss or blame. The solution the narrator picks to her unhappiness as a mother and wife is not a black and white one - she does not reject all technology (nor does she romanticise the nature life she lives, we see all its harshness and danger), or all traditionally feminine pursuits (she will still happily decorate in pink, make teas, cook, garden); instead she channels her sense of existential wrongness into surgically detaching from a life that was wrong for her, even though it lured her in with its promises, and she found moments of happiness and connection and love in it, and into creating a life in which she can simply be herself and sustain herself in this and create her own world. It is not a novel of what she builds up in the world, no Robinson Crusoe, but an inner journey which her homestead just supports.
Particularly recommended as a feminist read, and one for non-binary and autistic people, as well as for those interested in social work and social psychiatry. The book explores how in isolation and nature, we can fully unmask and simply be, engage in what is necessary and feeling right rather than obligations, gender melting away as a social category that has no meaning without other people, autism ceasing to disable when others are absent - and how that authenticity becomes near impossible to distinguish from what society calls madness (and what is madness? How does it relate to the happiness and survival of the mad person, how does it relate to the convenience and relatability to others?).
The protagonist experiences classic hallmarks of mental illness - memory loss, split personality, loss of identity, extreme distractability, engaging in visible self-neglect and endangerment, utter social isolation, speech problems, inability to socially read others or hold theory of mind, rapid mood swings to complete lack of affect, disrupted daily rhythms, food and sleep cycles, hallucinations.
At the same time, she rediscovers herself, finally finds true purpose and happiness, survives, heals, repairs and redecorates a home, survives physical illness, grows nearly all her own food, creates art and texts, looks after creatures, keeps a budget and food storage, has startling insights and perspectives - she is dealing with immense challenges and thriving, calm, centred. Her body turns from a decorative object for men into one that is highly capable, deeply perceptive, utterly connected to her, protecting her. Her identity turns from one of labels and surfaces into one of action and ground. She manages to permit herself to live for herself, without guilt. She reconnects to nature, the seasons, the soil, really seeing it, feeling it, a part of it. Her daily actions are self determined and meaningful and effective and visible and clear.
You get the distinct impression that if she had stayed a mother-wife, she would have suicided, or simply faded away entirely into a mask, and that this retreat from society was her only option for survival.
Which has one wonder why, what is wrong in society and how we can fix it, what paths she is not seeing (e.g. she dismisses an education and career as a solution, but I think that depends a lot on the what; there are careers that involve a lot of isolation in nature, writing and drawing; she sees no option with other people, but you can marry gender queer autistic people who also like homesteading; her children consume her, but she can't conceive of a way to neither abandon them, nor herself, in holding a relationship with them).
It sharply reminds me of older women I know who have gone through terrible pain and whose copes for it seem obviously pathological one day, and like the only logical and valid solution with its own internal coherence and function the next.
And final P.S.: This book is a good reminder of the ultimate rule every older woman will tell you - to always keep some money in this world, as much as you can, that only you can access, no matter how much you love someone and are pushed.
Note: I read the German translation «Eine Hütte für mich allein» by neue frau rororo, translated by Uta Gorides, which was very decent, even though it seemed like a hard book to translate (e.g. due to German having Sie vs. du). Found it as a book someone had discarded in a train station, and am so glad I did. Even the finding of it felt magical. In Britain, this book was apparently released as «Gaining Ground», rather than the original «Abra» (which is an understandable title, but I also very much get why publishers changed it, and think they were wise to).
So brutally honest, truthful and accurate that it feels autobiographical. Even in moments where I hated the narrator, or she described emotions I have never had and never will (such as being a neurotic mother), her every thought, emotion and action was utterly real and comprehensible, it really felt like living in the mind of another and rang true. The book also does not shy away from giving a fair, detailed depiction of her husband and children in how painfully they are affected, how deeply they try for the time period - they feel like real, distinct individuals whose sorrow and confusion is gut wrenching, not cardboard cutouts to dismiss or blame. The solution the narrator picks to her unhappiness as a mother and wife is not a black and white one - she does not reject all technology (nor does she romanticise the nature life she lives, we see all its harshness and danger), or all traditionally feminine pursuits (she will still happily decorate in pink, make teas, cook, garden); instead she channels her sense of existential wrongness into surgically detaching from a life that was wrong for her, even though it lured her in with its promises, and she found moments of happiness and connection and love in it, and into creating a life in which she can simply be herself and sustain herself in this and create her own world. It is not a novel of what she builds up in the world, no Robinson Crusoe, but an inner journey which her homestead just supports.
Particularly recommended as a feminist read, and one for non-binary and autistic people, as well as for those interested in social work and social psychiatry. The book explores how in isolation and nature, we can fully unmask and simply be, engage in what is necessary and feeling right rather than obligations, gender melting away as a social category that has no meaning without other people, autism ceasing to disable when others are absent - and how that authenticity becomes near impossible to distinguish from what society calls madness (and what is madness? How does it relate to the happiness and survival of the mad person, how does it relate to the convenience and relatability to others?).
The protagonist experiences classic hallmarks of mental illness - memory loss, split personality, loss of identity, extreme distractability, engaging in visible self-neglect and endangerment, utter social isolation, speech problems, inability to socially read others or hold theory of mind, rapid mood swings to complete lack of affect, disrupted daily rhythms, food and sleep cycles, hallucinations.
At the same time, she rediscovers herself, finally finds true purpose and happiness, survives, heals, repairs and redecorates a home, survives physical illness, grows nearly all her own food, creates art and texts, looks after creatures, keeps a budget and food storage, has startling insights and perspectives - she is dealing with immense challenges and thriving, calm, centred. Her body turns from a decorative object for men into one that is highly capable, deeply perceptive, utterly connected to her, protecting her. Her identity turns from one of labels and surfaces into one of action and ground. She manages to permit herself to live for herself, without guilt. She reconnects to nature, the seasons, the soil, really seeing it, feeling it, a part of it. Her daily actions are self determined and meaningful and effective and visible and clear.
You get the distinct impression that if she had stayed a mother-wife, she would have suicided, or simply faded away entirely into a mask, and that this retreat from society was her only option for survival.
Which has one wonder why, what is wrong in society and how we can fix it, what paths she is not seeing (e.g. she dismisses an education and career as a solution, but I think that depends a lot on the what; there are careers that involve a lot of isolation in nature, writing and drawing; she sees no option with other people, but you can marry gender queer autistic people who also like homesteading; her children consume her, but she can't conceive of a way to neither abandon them, nor herself, in holding a relationship with them).
It sharply reminds me of older women I know who have gone through terrible pain and whose copes for it seem obviously pathological one day, and like the only logical and valid solution with its own internal coherence and function the next.
And final P.S.: This book is a good reminder of the ultimate rule every older woman will tell you - to always keep some money in this world, as much as you can, that only you can access, no matter how much you love someone and are pushed.
Note: I read the German translation «Eine Hütte für mich allein» by neue frau rororo, translated by Uta Gorides, which was very decent, even though it seemed like a hard book to translate (e.g. due to German having Sie vs. du). Found it as a book someone had discarded in a train station, and am so glad I did. Even the finding of it felt magical. In Britain, this book was apparently released as «Gaining Ground», rather than the original «Abra» (which is an understandable title, but I also very much get why publishers changed it, and think they were wise to).
August 3, 2020
read in '82 and again in '13
July 3, 2022
So good, but the ending was uneventful and a bit infuriating. Beautiful written, though. Great imagery. I was right there with the main character in her little cabin in the woods.
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