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Somebody Loves You
A teacher asked me a question, and I opened my mouth as a sort of formality but closed it softly, knowing with perfect certainty that nothing would ever come out again.
Ruby gives up talking at a young age. Her mother isn’t always there to notice; she comes and goes and goes and comes, until, one day, she doesn’t. Silence becomes Ruby’s refuge, sheltering her from the weather of her mother’s mental illness and a pressurized suburban atmosphere.
Plangent, deft, and sparkling with wry humour, Somebody Loves You is a moving exploration of how we choose or refuse to tell the stories that shape us.
Ruby gives up talking at a young age. Her mother isn’t always there to notice; she comes and goes and goes and comes, until, one day, she doesn’t. Silence becomes Ruby’s refuge, sheltering her from the weather of her mother’s mental illness and a pressurized suburban atmosphere.
Plangent, deft, and sparkling with wry humour, Somebody Loves You is a moving exploration of how we choose or refuse to tell the stories that shape us.
176 pages, Paperback
First published November 16, 2021
59 people are currently reading
3488 people want to read
About the author
Mona Arshi
8 books39 followersMona Arshi worked as a Human rights lawyer at Liberty before she started writing poetry. Her debut collection Small Hands won the Forward Prize for best first collection in 2015. Mona’s second collection ‘Dear Big Gods’ was published in 2019 (both books published by Liverpool University Press’s Pavilion Poetry list). She has taught and mentored extensively including the Arvon/Jerwood mentorship Programme and the Rebecca Swift Women’s Poetry Prize. Mona has judged both the Forward and TS Eliot prizes as well as the National Poetry Competition . She makes regular appearances on radio and has been commissioned to write both poems and short stories. Her poems and interviews have been published in The Times, The Guardian, Granta and The Times of India as well as on the London Underground. She is currently writer in Residence at Cley Marshes with the Norfolk Wildlife Trust. Her debut novel Somebody Loves You will be published with And Other Stories in Autumn 2021. She has recently been appointed Honorary Professor at the University of Liverpool. Mona is currently editing a book of black and Asian poetry ‘Nature Matters’ with Karen McCarthy Woolf which will be published in Spring 2023 by Faber books.
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October 5, 2022
05.10.22 Now Shortlisted for the 2022 Goldsmiths Prize
Longlisted for the Republic of Consciousness Prize 2022 Book 3/10
Published by And other Stories, a small press that has quite a few interesting titles on my TBR.
Audiobook narrated by the author.
I am terrible at writing reviews these days. I have maybe 10 minutes to say something about this novel and I know it deserves more. Again, I discovered a beautiful novel with the help of ROFC prize.
The short novel is the story of a young girl, Ruby, who is forced to grow up with a mother suffering from mental illness. She takes refuge in silence, refusing to speak form early childhood. It is a story of mental health, family, assault in its many forms. It is both sad and funny, beautifully written and poetic. The author previously wrote poetry and it is visible in her 1st novel.
Longlisted for the Republic of Consciousness Prize 2022 Book 3/10
Published by And other Stories, a small press that has quite a few interesting titles on my TBR.
Audiobook narrated by the author.
I am terrible at writing reviews these days. I have maybe 10 minutes to say something about this novel and I know it deserves more. Again, I discovered a beautiful novel with the help of ROFC prize.
The short novel is the story of a young girl, Ruby, who is forced to grow up with a mother suffering from mental illness. She takes refuge in silence, refusing to speak form early childhood. It is a story of mental health, family, assault in its many forms. It is both sad and funny, beautifully written and poetic. The author previously wrote poetry and it is visible in her 1st novel.
March 29, 2022
This is a beautiful novel by poet-turned-author Mona Arshi. The story is told from the perspective of Ruby, a British teenager of Indian descent who is mute. The storytelling is fragmented and episodic, with each short chapter adding another layer to the canvas of the story. Neil, another reviewer, made the observation that seeing the story come together is like watching an artist paint - a beautiful description for this work. The episodes circle around Ruby's family, neighbors, and friends, allowing us to piece together her experience in an immigrant household with a mother who struggles with mental illness. Although the subject matter sounds heavy, the indirect storytelling shows trauma in refraction, not directly, which makes this an interesting and somewhat refreshing reading experience.
October 9, 2022
Now Shortlisted for the 2022 Goldsmiths Prize!
On growing up Indian in the UK, with a mentally unstable mother. Told from the perspective of a daughter gone mute, in ultra short chapters
We are so badly made, us human beings.
Somebody Loves You reminds me a bit of The Discomfort of Evening, with the perspective of someone growing up in a family being torn apart. But less physical and harrowing, besides the sexual abuse narration at the end of the book, than that book.
The story is told in very short chapters, without a traditional plot, which made me think a bit of Magma by Þóra Hjörleifsdóttir, who as mona arshi also wrote poetry before her fiction debut.
Sisters, one morbidly inquisitively called Rania and Ruby, the narrator who stops talking after experiences at school. Their mother is mentally unstable, their father quite aloof in my view, struggling with the whole situation. He gives Ruby advise like: This is an opportunity to be normal, to try on a new persona
Whereupon Ruby thinks about others, but definitely not herself:
Normal hood really suits her
The plot is non-linear, with lapses in health of the mother and detours to the childhood of the girls. Ruby being voluntarily mute gives her excellent qualities as an observer of everyday life in the UK, with racism coming back, and an absolutely harrowing chapter on abuse her sister endures. She also takes action, incriminating a girl, and reflecting on the experience as being worse than illicit sex, because she has no one to share the experience with.
There is no clear cut end or resolution, no easy solutions, but (ironically, with her not speaking) the narrative voice of Ruby definitely made me enjoy this novel.
On growing up Indian in the UK, with a mentally unstable mother. Told from the perspective of a daughter gone mute, in ultra short chapters
We are so badly made, us human beings.
Somebody Loves You reminds me a bit of The Discomfort of Evening, with the perspective of someone growing up in a family being torn apart. But less physical and harrowing, besides the sexual abuse narration at the end of the book, than that book.
The story is told in very short chapters, without a traditional plot, which made me think a bit of Magma by Þóra Hjörleifsdóttir, who as mona arshi also wrote poetry before her fiction debut.
Sisters, one morbidly inquisitively called Rania and Ruby, the narrator who stops talking after experiences at school. Their mother is mentally unstable, their father quite aloof in my view, struggling with the whole situation. He gives Ruby advise like: This is an opportunity to be normal, to try on a new persona
Whereupon Ruby thinks about others, but definitely not herself:
Normal hood really suits her
The plot is non-linear, with lapses in health of the mother and detours to the childhood of the girls. Ruby being voluntarily mute gives her excellent qualities as an observer of everyday life in the UK, with racism coming back, and an absolutely harrowing chapter on abuse her sister endures. She also takes action, incriminating a girl, and reflecting on the experience as being worse than illicit sex, because she has no one to share the experience with.
There is no clear cut end or resolution, no easy solutions, but (ironically, with her not speaking) the narrative voice of Ruby definitely made me enjoy this novel.
February 27, 2025
Now shortlisted for the 2022 Goldsmith’s Prize.
Previously shortlisted for the 2022 Jhalak and longlisted for the Desmond Elliott and Republic of Consciousness Prizes
This book is published by the UK small press And Other Stories under their hugely successful subscription model.
The author Mona Arshi (a human rights lawyer for Liberty and an award winning poet) is best known to me for her spell as writer-in-residence at the nature reserve at the beautiful Cley Marshes in North Norfolk
The imagery, words and sound recording of her poetry and the beauty of the salt marshes is best viewed here : https://www.mutiny.org.uk/shifting-li...
This is her debut novel.
The first 15 or so pages of the book are available here - https://www.andotherstories.org/wp-co... and this gives an excellent sense of the book.
The book is narrated by Ruby, a British Indian girl and tells of her own troubled childhood (including when she stopped speaking), her mother (struggling with mental illness), her more voluble sister Rania and her retiring father – as well as a cast of visiting relatives, the families neighbours and Ruby and Rania’s schoolfriends.
As can be seen from the excerpt the book has both a distinctive structure and writing style. What cannot be judged is the production of the book – the paperback has a beautifully vibrant cover of a garden (fitting for a book where the mother’s mental state is based around her gardening) and French flaps and this quality production seems to me to both match and enhance the beauty of much of the writing.
The structure is a fragmentary one – a series of 60+ short sections from 1-8 pages, each vignette of the life of Ruby and her family, told in a chronological progression best described I think as part approximately linear (at least as its relates to certain sub-storylines) and part recursive (particularly when relating to key incidents in the family’s history – such as the mother’s first mental attack - or to recurring themes such as racism and misogyny).
And the writing is (as might be expected) poetic in nature. The sections are told in first person with Ruby’s silence a key to the novel in allowing her to act as an observer of others, of society (racism, mental illness, family expectations, sexual assault, misogny all play a part in what at times is a disturbing novel), nature and even of herself in a reflective and descriptive prose.
Overall a novel whose beauty of production and writing is matched only by its slowly emerging but powerful themes.
Previously shortlisted for the 2022 Jhalak and longlisted for the Desmond Elliott and Republic of Consciousness Prizes
This book is published by the UK small press And Other Stories under their hugely successful subscription model.
The author Mona Arshi (a human rights lawyer for Liberty and an award winning poet) is best known to me for her spell as writer-in-residence at the nature reserve at the beautiful Cley Marshes in North Norfolk
The imagery, words and sound recording of her poetry and the beauty of the salt marshes is best viewed here : https://www.mutiny.org.uk/shifting-li...
This is her debut novel.
The first 15 or so pages of the book are available here - https://www.andotherstories.org/wp-co... and this gives an excellent sense of the book.
The book is narrated by Ruby, a British Indian girl and tells of her own troubled childhood (including when she stopped speaking), her mother (struggling with mental illness), her more voluble sister Rania and her retiring father – as well as a cast of visiting relatives, the families neighbours and Ruby and Rania’s schoolfriends.
As can be seen from the excerpt the book has both a distinctive structure and writing style. What cannot be judged is the production of the book – the paperback has a beautifully vibrant cover of a garden (fitting for a book where the mother’s mental state is based around her gardening) and French flaps and this quality production seems to me to both match and enhance the beauty of much of the writing.
The structure is a fragmentary one – a series of 60+ short sections from 1-8 pages, each vignette of the life of Ruby and her family, told in a chronological progression best described I think as part approximately linear (at least as its relates to certain sub-storylines) and part recursive (particularly when relating to key incidents in the family’s history – such as the mother’s first mental attack - or to recurring themes such as racism and misogyny).
And the writing is (as might be expected) poetic in nature. The sections are told in first person with Ruby’s silence a key to the novel in allowing her to act as an observer of others, of society (racism, mental illness, family expectations, sexual assault, misogny all play a part in what at times is a disturbing novel), nature and even of herself in a reflective and descriptive prose.
Overall a novel whose beauty of production and writing is matched only by its slowly emerging but powerful themes.
November 13, 2021
In a Nutshell: I tried my best to like this book but it just wasn’t the right fit for me. (Partly because I went for the audiobook. More on this below.)
Story: (I have no idea how to summarise this plot! There is no plot progression!)
The book is written in Ruby’s first person perspective, so it’s kind of ironic that she’s speaking to the reader without speaking to anyone around her. It makes you feel like you are reading the innermost thoughts of a young girl who is misunderstood by all around her.
This is supposed to be a work of literary fiction so I was kind of prepared for the slower pace and character-oriented narrative. Both of which are dominant factors in this novel. But what I didn’t expect was the plot to be randomly structured with short chapters in the form of reminiscences and opinions rather than a linear narrative. This would have worked fabulously had I read it. But when you hear the content, the plot doesn’t make much sense and it takes a while, if at all, to get into it. I still trudged through somehow to the end, hoping for a satisfactory ending if not a happy one. But even that was denied me.
I can make out the quality of the writing. The author has a fair grip on where she wants the story to go, even if it is not directly evident to us. The language is very poetic and the emotions, hard-hitting. There are many complicated themes such as racial diversity, immigrant issues and parent expectations highlighted in the tale. But all these points are moot if the narration doesn’t help you get into the story. The audiobook is read by the author herself, and I’m very sorry to say this, but while she has a clear reading voice, it isn’t exactly conducive to an audiobook. Her tone is slightly hushed and lulling, not exactly the kind to keep you hooked onto a narration of a literary book. I kept tuning out and this 4 hour audiobook took me much longer to complete.
Basically, all my complaints stem from the fact that the audiobook doesn’t really work for this story. It might be a power-packed emotional experience but none of it was apparent in the audio form.
Recommended only if you want to READ a somewhat depressing literary fiction.
My thanks to Saga Egmont Audio and NetGalley for the ALC of “Somebody Loves You”. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the audiobook. Sorry this didn't work out better for me.
***********************
Join me on the Facebook group, Readers Forever! , for more reviews, book-related discussions and fun.
Story: (I have no idea how to summarise this plot! There is no plot progression!)
Ruby has given up talking. Her elder sister, more outgoing and bombastic in her nature, does more than her fair share of it. And even her busy parents talk enough. You see, Ruby defines everyone around her in terms of their quantum of verbosity. And she has decided that she needn’t add more talk to this world. But how does this stance impact those around her?
That’s all I can say. There’s really nothing more to it. The narrative contains Ruby’s interactions with her kith and kin, and her personal thoughts on various topics.
The book is written in Ruby’s first person perspective, so it’s kind of ironic that she’s speaking to the reader without speaking to anyone around her. It makes you feel like you are reading the innermost thoughts of a young girl who is misunderstood by all around her.
This is supposed to be a work of literary fiction so I was kind of prepared for the slower pace and character-oriented narrative. Both of which are dominant factors in this novel. But what I didn’t expect was the plot to be randomly structured with short chapters in the form of reminiscences and opinions rather than a linear narrative. This would have worked fabulously had I read it. But when you hear the content, the plot doesn’t make much sense and it takes a while, if at all, to get into it. I still trudged through somehow to the end, hoping for a satisfactory ending if not a happy one. But even that was denied me.
I can make out the quality of the writing. The author has a fair grip on where she wants the story to go, even if it is not directly evident to us. The language is very poetic and the emotions, hard-hitting. There are many complicated themes such as racial diversity, immigrant issues and parent expectations highlighted in the tale. But all these points are moot if the narration doesn’t help you get into the story. The audiobook is read by the author herself, and I’m very sorry to say this, but while she has a clear reading voice, it isn’t exactly conducive to an audiobook. Her tone is slightly hushed and lulling, not exactly the kind to keep you hooked onto a narration of a literary book. I kept tuning out and this 4 hour audiobook took me much longer to complete.
Basically, all my complaints stem from the fact that the audiobook doesn’t really work for this story. It might be a power-packed emotional experience but none of it was apparent in the audio form.
Recommended only if you want to READ a somewhat depressing literary fiction.
My thanks to Saga Egmont Audio and NetGalley for the ALC of “Somebody Loves You”. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the audiobook. Sorry this didn't work out better for me.
***********************
Join me on the Facebook group, Readers Forever! , for more reviews, book-related discussions and fun.
February 10, 2022
Award-winning poet Mona Arshi’s debut novel’s an unorthodox coming-of-age story, set in the London suburbs during the late seventies through to the early eighties. It’s a fragmented, lyrical piece, primarily presented through the gaze of a British Indian schoolgirl Ruby, sickly from early childhood, she’s grappling with the intricacies of interpreting the actions of the adults surrounding her: from her mother whose mental illness dominates the rhythm of her family’s everyday, to her reticent father, and the array of eccentric female relatives who swoop in from time to time to take over running the house. One day Ruby simply ceases to talk, and remains silent for years to come, choosing instead to observe and document the people she encounters. Her silence somehow transforms her into a repository, someone other people choose to confide in, like a sort of living confessional, allowing her to construct a series of razor-sharp character sketches of her neighbours and schoolfriends. These, together with her memories and thoughts, form the bulk of the narrative, which moves abruptly from scene to scene, imaginative reconstructions of a dead neighbour’s afterlife cheek-by-jowl with accounts of mugdays when her mother retreats to her room, and Ruby’s father tries to find ways to coax her back into action. Ruby’s chief ally’s her ebullient, rebellious sister Rania, whose overflow of words counter Ruby’s lack. It's a book that also explores trauma in myriad forms, from grief to racism to the aftermath of sexual assault and casual misogyny. A narrative that constantly threatens to tip over into the realm of melodrama but instead's saved by the sheer quality of Arshi’s writing, disciplined and laced with striking imagery. She somehow reins in the potentially excessive elements, skilfully negotiating sudden tonal shifts from wryly humorous to sombre and melancholy. Arshi’s also adept at highlighting unlikely instances of beauty or moments of grace, in keeping with the Elizabeth Bishop poem, The Filling Station that inspired Arshi’s choice of title, as did her fascination with the nature and texture of silence. I’m not sure this is an entirely successful piece of writing, there are gaps and uncertainties that could be addressed more directly, but I still found it memorable, incredibly evocative and strangely hypnotic, compelling enough that I read it straight through from cover to cover.
Thanks to Edelweiss and publisher And Other Stories for an ARC
Thanks to Edelweiss and publisher And Other Stories for an ARC
October 5, 2022
Shortlisted for the 2022 Goldsmiths Prize
Shortlisted for the 2022 Jhalak Prize
Longlisted for the 2022 Republic of Consciousness Prize
Longlisted for the 2022 Desmond Elliott Prize
The mother sleeps. Mostly. The foxes still come and go. It’s March but it’s been snowing. Up until last week we were still leaving milk and chicken bones out for them; my father can’t bear the sound of their suffering. Just last week he took us to visit our mother, our feet crunching the icy ground beneath us. They had taken her out of bed, and she was waiting for us patiently, her elbows scrubbed but dry with a bubbly texture. I reached over and touched one with my fingertips.
Mona Arshi's debut novel comes with a stunning cover design from Holly Ovenden and is published by And Other Stories, who have wonderfully described their output as shamelessly literary. We are an independent, not-for-profit publisher of innovative contemporary writing from around the world ... And Other Stories publishes some of the best in contemporary writing, including many translations. We aim to push people’s reading limits and help them discover authors of adventurous and inspiring writing.
The novel's title comes from the closing lines of Elizabeth Bishop's poem Filling Station.
And I emphasise debut novel as Arshi is an established poet, her debut collection winning the Forward Prize for best first collection in 2015. And in 2021 she was
writer-in-residence at the nature reserve in Cley Marshes Wildlife Reserve in North Norfolk:
The novel's text is as lyrical as this background might lead one to expect, starting with the opening chapter, "Eggs", which reads
A man is offering her a bowl. She peers inside and there is an egg nestled in light peat close to the surface. It is a small blue egg – perfect and complete. She gently lifts it out of the bowl and places it in her mouth and the egg, still warm, breaks onto her tongue, makes her retch a little but still she swallows it. She closes then reopens her eyes and a blue bird escapes from her mouth. Then another and another, until the room is filled with their iridescent turquoise feathers and clamour of yellow-black beaks.
A few settle on her head, others perch on her shoulders, but then after a few minutes and for no discernible reason they quickly flit back inside – a hymn of bodies returning as they enter back through her parted lips. Several fly into and penetrate her torso. When the last bird has gone, she closes her mouth and leaves the room.
The next chapter, Foxes, begins with the memorable (and much quoted in reviews, including this) line: The day my sister tried to drag the baby fox into our house was the same day my mother had her first mental breakdown.
The novel is narrated by Ruby, a girl whose mother emigrated from India to the UK. Ruby herself settles, as a young schoolchild, for silence, refusing to speak (the 'Eggs' chapter symbolising the act), as she explains:
The first time I spoke out loud at school I said the word sister and tripped all over it. I tried a second time, and my tongue got caught on the middle-syllable hiss and hovered there. The third time? A teacher asked me a question, and I opened my mouth as a sort of formality but closed it sofly, knowing with perfect certainty that nothing would ever come out again. I was certain about this the next morning and even more certain about it the day following that. I uttered absolutely nothing. It became the most certain thing in my life.
Her and her family's (father, mother and old sister, as well as various relatives) story is told in a series of brief, non-linear, vignettes. Ruby may be silent, but she is a strong willed character (Ruby's Spotify playlist) and her tale includes:
- her mother's mental health issues:
When the garden’s asleep for winter, when there’s nothing to nurture, nothing to fight for or revive on the borders, when my mother has put away her tools and potting soil in our shed, that strange look of blank hunger takes up residence. These are the beginnings of Mugdays. Mugdays start with unpredictable and approximate mornings. Simple things, like getting out of bed and into some fresh clothes, eating and drinking, have to be gently negotiated, navigated and pleaded for.
- the casual racism she experiences (this from a Norfolk-based penpal)
Two days after I turned twelve my pen pal Clare told me we could no longer be friends.
Dear Ruby,
I am really sad and sorry, but my dad has said I have to send you this letter and tell you I’m not allowed to be your pen friend anymore because he found out you’re a Paki. I am feeling sad that you might be sad about this – I am so sad and sorry that we can’t be friends anymore.
From Clare.
There were no kisses. She had carefully underlined the ‘sad’s using a ruler, but there was no pink-lined paper with cutesy animals crowded into the corner, and the perfunctory white envelope which was the repository for this four-line note contained no stickers, tattoos or glitter, and just like that my two-month correspondence with Clare Marjorie Stokely, from Diss, Norfolk, ended.
- her own self-revulsion when, driven by jealousy, she sends a racist letter of her own:
All the way back on the bus ride the empty pocket of my jacket was seeping out its disgust. I felt hot and conspicuous and guilty. But also, I felt exhilarated, powerful and ungovernable – the perfect conditions for psychopathy to flourish. In the windows of the bus my eyes surprised me, looking like cool, glassy pebbles and not the eyes of a frightened cat. I wanted to go home and scrub every part of my body, like the expensive murderesses do in art-house films before they themselves are strangulated by their lovers with their own suede belts or silk scarves. I wanted to be clean, but I also wanted to stay with the filth, stand in the wuthering dirt of it all. I wanted to feel this way; I didn’t want to feel this way
- and the sexual assault of her sister by a neighbour's relative.
A memorable narrator and a beautifully constructed novel. Recommended.
Shortlisted for the 2022 Jhalak Prize
Longlisted for the 2022 Republic of Consciousness Prize
Longlisted for the 2022 Desmond Elliott Prize
The mother sleeps. Mostly. The foxes still come and go. It’s March but it’s been snowing. Up until last week we were still leaving milk and chicken bones out for them; my father can’t bear the sound of their suffering. Just last week he took us to visit our mother, our feet crunching the icy ground beneath us. They had taken her out of bed, and she was waiting for us patiently, her elbows scrubbed but dry with a bubbly texture. I reached over and touched one with my fingertips.
Mona Arshi's debut novel comes with a stunning cover design from Holly Ovenden and is published by And Other Stories, who have wonderfully described their output as shamelessly literary. We are an independent, not-for-profit publisher of innovative contemporary writing from around the world ... And Other Stories publishes some of the best in contemporary writing, including many translations. We aim to push people’s reading limits and help them discover authors of adventurous and inspiring writing.
The novel's title comes from the closing lines of Elizabeth Bishop's poem Filling Station.
And I emphasise debut novel as Arshi is an established poet, her debut collection winning the Forward Prize for best first collection in 2015. And in 2021 she was
writer-in-residence at the nature reserve in Cley Marshes Wildlife Reserve in North Norfolk:
At Cley nature reserve a single raised path separates the salt marshes from the freshwater wetlands, and the shifting sounds of the Norfolk reed. When you begin the walk by the visitor’s centre the traffic from the road fills your ears. Then, as you begin to enter the marshes this recedes to be replaced by the sound of the reeds. Everyone tells you about the big Norfolk skies but in this place the big sky is like a giant dynamic canvas. In your peripheral vision a flicker of a tail wing disturbs your eye, in your central vision a flinty white object is thrown into relief against the blue. Then there are the sounds of Cley as you lose the noise of the road to gently tune in; the reeds hush over you and the reed warblers twitch as you push forwards trying to capture it all. Soon enough you find yourself at the other end, standing on the shingle beach in front of the churning dark waters of the North Sea. When I last visited it was September, a real time of transition. Many migratory birds had already gone and those wintering in Cley were arriving. We spotted geese, the pink-footed kind, arriving from Iceland announcing their arrival. We saw the common graylag but then unexpectedly a kestrel and red shanks. The salt marshes were now lit with samphire but when I’d last visited in July it was sea-lavender.
The novel's text is as lyrical as this background might lead one to expect, starting with the opening chapter, "Eggs", which reads
A man is offering her a bowl. She peers inside and there is an egg nestled in light peat close to the surface. It is a small blue egg – perfect and complete. She gently lifts it out of the bowl and places it in her mouth and the egg, still warm, breaks onto her tongue, makes her retch a little but still she swallows it. She closes then reopens her eyes and a blue bird escapes from her mouth. Then another and another, until the room is filled with their iridescent turquoise feathers and clamour of yellow-black beaks.
A few settle on her head, others perch on her shoulders, but then after a few minutes and for no discernible reason they quickly flit back inside – a hymn of bodies returning as they enter back through her parted lips. Several fly into and penetrate her torso. When the last bird has gone, she closes her mouth and leaves the room.
The next chapter, Foxes, begins with the memorable (and much quoted in reviews, including this) line: The day my sister tried to drag the baby fox into our house was the same day my mother had her first mental breakdown.
The novel is narrated by Ruby, a girl whose mother emigrated from India to the UK. Ruby herself settles, as a young schoolchild, for silence, refusing to speak (the 'Eggs' chapter symbolising the act), as she explains:
The first time I spoke out loud at school I said the word sister and tripped all over it. I tried a second time, and my tongue got caught on the middle-syllable hiss and hovered there. The third time? A teacher asked me a question, and I opened my mouth as a sort of formality but closed it sofly, knowing with perfect certainty that nothing would ever come out again. I was certain about this the next morning and even more certain about it the day following that. I uttered absolutely nothing. It became the most certain thing in my life.
Her and her family's (father, mother and old sister, as well as various relatives) story is told in a series of brief, non-linear, vignettes. Ruby may be silent, but she is a strong willed character (Ruby's Spotify playlist) and her tale includes:
- her mother's mental health issues:
When the garden’s asleep for winter, when there’s nothing to nurture, nothing to fight for or revive on the borders, when my mother has put away her tools and potting soil in our shed, that strange look of blank hunger takes up residence. These are the beginnings of Mugdays. Mugdays start with unpredictable and approximate mornings. Simple things, like getting out of bed and into some fresh clothes, eating and drinking, have to be gently negotiated, navigated and pleaded for.
- the casual racism she experiences (this from a Norfolk-based penpal)
Two days after I turned twelve my pen pal Clare told me we could no longer be friends.
Dear Ruby,
I am really sad and sorry, but my dad has said I have to send you this letter and tell you I’m not allowed to be your pen friend anymore because he found out you’re a Paki. I am feeling sad that you might be sad about this – I am so sad and sorry that we can’t be friends anymore.
From Clare.
There were no kisses. She had carefully underlined the ‘sad’s using a ruler, but there was no pink-lined paper with cutesy animals crowded into the corner, and the perfunctory white envelope which was the repository for this four-line note contained no stickers, tattoos or glitter, and just like that my two-month correspondence with Clare Marjorie Stokely, from Diss, Norfolk, ended.
- her own self-revulsion when, driven by jealousy, she sends a racist letter of her own:
All the way back on the bus ride the empty pocket of my jacket was seeping out its disgust. I felt hot and conspicuous and guilty. But also, I felt exhilarated, powerful and ungovernable – the perfect conditions for psychopathy to flourish. In the windows of the bus my eyes surprised me, looking like cool, glassy pebbles and not the eyes of a frightened cat. I wanted to go home and scrub every part of my body, like the expensive murderesses do in art-house films before they themselves are strangulated by their lovers with their own suede belts or silk scarves. I wanted to be clean, but I also wanted to stay with the filth, stand in the wuthering dirt of it all. I wanted to feel this way; I didn’t want to feel this way
- and the sexual assault of her sister by a neighbour's relative.
A memorable narrator and a beautifully constructed novel. Recommended.
June 23, 2022
I loved this book the way you might love a work of art or an unusual piece of music, without being able to articulate precisely why you love it. There is not much plot to speak of, nor obvious character development, nor is the book thematically forceful. It feels, however, like Mona Arshi poured a piece of her soul, a vital essence, into this work, trimmed away anything resembling excess and left us with 160 pages of short, sharp beauty.
To those familiar with Arshi’s poetry collections — Small Hands and Dear Big Gods — it comes as no surprise that the book resembles a prose-poetry hybrid, told in brief impressionistic snatches, like a series of postcards from childhood. Our young narrator, Ruby, has given up on talking. Her sister Rania is a “normal talker”. Her parents are “normalish talkers” but Ruby is “an expert in the art of solitude and quietness”. It is something she has worked hard at and practised and studied “like a Venetian master glass-blower who can puff up a little bit of white-hot jelly-glass”. This quality of speechlessness gives her an unusual perspective on the world around her — and a tempered relationship to language.
When she hears the word “agony” from the lips of her mother, for example, Ruby observes:
“Of all the ‘a’ words, agony is the worst. I wouldn’t wish that word on my greatest enemy. I wasn’t even that sure what the word meant but it was clear to me there was a sliver of glass in the middle of the brittle ‘o’.”
The novel tackles weighty themes — maternal mental illness, parental neglect, the burdens of gender and of skin colour — but frames and illuminates these through arresting prose and mordant wit. It’s a book that punches you in the gut, but with a stealth and delicacy that may just surprise you.
Pairs well with: Slip of a Fish
Mood: Like a jolt of sunshine
Rating: 9/10
Also on Instagram.
Useful links
Ruby's Spotify playlist
The poem that inspired the book's title
To those familiar with Arshi’s poetry collections — Small Hands and Dear Big Gods — it comes as no surprise that the book resembles a prose-poetry hybrid, told in brief impressionistic snatches, like a series of postcards from childhood. Our young narrator, Ruby, has given up on talking. Her sister Rania is a “normal talker”. Her parents are “normalish talkers” but Ruby is “an expert in the art of solitude and quietness”. It is something she has worked hard at and practised and studied “like a Venetian master glass-blower who can puff up a little bit of white-hot jelly-glass”. This quality of speechlessness gives her an unusual perspective on the world around her — and a tempered relationship to language.
When she hears the word “agony” from the lips of her mother, for example, Ruby observes:
“Of all the ‘a’ words, agony is the worst. I wouldn’t wish that word on my greatest enemy. I wasn’t even that sure what the word meant but it was clear to me there was a sliver of glass in the middle of the brittle ‘o’.”
The novel tackles weighty themes — maternal mental illness, parental neglect, the burdens of gender and of skin colour — but frames and illuminates these through arresting prose and mordant wit. It’s a book that punches you in the gut, but with a stealth and delicacy that may just surprise you.
Pairs well with: Slip of a Fish
Mood: Like a jolt of sunshine
Rating: 9/10
Also on Instagram.
Useful links
Ruby's Spotify playlist
The poem that inspired the book's title
February 23, 2022
Longlisted for the Republic of Consciousness Prize 2022
My third book from the RofC list is a very enjoyable read. It is Arshi's first novel but she has also published two poetry collections.
The book tells the story of the narrator Ruby, a girl from a British Indian family who stops speaking at an early age. It is somewhat episodic, and gradually progresses through Ruby's childhood and adolescence, as she struggles to emerge from the shadow of her extrovert older sister Rania.
I can't really articulate what it was that made the book so engaging, but so far it is my favourite book on the list.
My third book from the RofC list is a very enjoyable read. It is Arshi's first novel but she has also published two poetry collections.
The book tells the story of the narrator Ruby, a girl from a British Indian family who stops speaking at an early age. It is somewhat episodic, and gradually progresses through Ruby's childhood and adolescence, as she struggles to emerge from the shadow of her extrovert older sister Rania.
I can't really articulate what it was that made the book so engaging, but so far it is my favourite book on the list.
November 16, 2021
3.5 Stars
’Silence is the universal refuge, the sequel to all dull discourses and all foolish acts, a balm to our every chagrin, as welcome after satiety as after disappointment; that background which the painter may not daub, be he master or bungler, and which, however awkward a figure we may have made in the foreground, remains ever our inviolable asylum, where no indignity can assail, no personality can disturb us.’ ― Henry David Thoreau
The author, Mona Arshi, was a Human Rights lawyer before publishing ’Small Hands, her poetry collection which won the Forward Prize in 2015. This is her fiction debut, one which focuses on silence, the things that create that belief that we need to keep silent - mental health, family, physical and sexual assault, and more. It is heartbreaking at moments, but beautifully heartfelt and intensely felt by the reader.
I listened to this novel, narrated by the author which made these stories feel that much more authentic and which brought this collection and the portraits of these people vividly to life. This isn’t a light and fluffy collection, it is often profoundly disturbing, but it is, or seems to be a realistic portraiture of the affect that assault, physical violation, mental health have on one’s personal life and family. Memories that can haunt one throughout their lives.
A beautifully written, heartbreaking and powerful story.
Published: 16 Nov 2021
Many thanks for the ARC provided by Saga Egmont Audio
#SomebodyLovesyou #NetGalley
January 30, 2023
Warmth, subtlety, lyricism devoid of mawkishness — these are my recollections of Somebody Loves You (2021). Despite its pastel delicacy, the novel is far from idyllic. Mona Arshi does not retreat from difficult subjects like racism or parent's mental illness. It is a turbulent story, told succinctly, with quaint humour, bewitching nature descriptions and attention to every single word. And it rings so true.
I was taken with the narrator. Ruby calls herself justly an expert in the art of solitude and quietness and this portrayal encapsulates her personality perfectly. I do not know how autobiographical Somebody Loves You is but the narrator's memories are extremely vivid.
I always have a good feeling when I start reading a novel written by a poet and Somebody Loves You was no exception. My hunch did not let me down: the writing is ensnaring and the author has an exquisite ear for the rhythm and waving of prose. Mona Arshi has already published two poetry collections and this is her novelistic debut. A very promising one. Not perfect though and sometimes a bit like Auntie Number One's smoothies, which missed some vital, unreachable, unidentifiable ingredient. But as Ruby's father would say, a beautiful thing is never perfect.
Artwork by Parvez Taj.
I was taken with the narrator. Ruby calls herself justly an expert in the art of solitude and quietness and this portrayal encapsulates her personality perfectly. I do not know how autobiographical Somebody Loves You is but the narrator's memories are extremely vivid.
I always have a good feeling when I start reading a novel written by a poet and Somebody Loves You was no exception. My hunch did not let me down: the writing is ensnaring and the author has an exquisite ear for the rhythm and waving of prose. Mona Arshi has already published two poetry collections and this is her novelistic debut. A very promising one. Not perfect though and sometimes a bit like Auntie Number One's smoothies, which missed some vital, unreachable, unidentifiable ingredient. But as Ruby's father would say, a beautiful thing is never perfect.
Artwork by Parvez Taj.
December 9, 2022
Poets should write novels. This debut novel by British poet Mona Arshi is infused with beautiful lyricism and melancholy. Its title is inspired by the last line of Elizabeth Bishop's poem 'Filling Station' ("Somebody loves us all").
My mother didn’t want me to play with dolls – frivolous and shallow, she called them – and so I never did. But then she didn’t like the way I was content with so little. I never quite understood what I was supposed to settle for instead.
Family, neighbors, school as seen by a child of Indian immigrants in England. A young girl narrator Ruby, her sister Rania, their gentle father, and their mother tormented with mental illness. Her mother's absences while in mental hospital alternate with her obsession with gardening when at home ("the garden was her main distraction from life”). Little Ruby fills the maternal void by constructing the world of her own, silent, observant, dream-like.
My mother didn’t want me to play with dolls – frivolous and shallow, she called them – and so I never did. But then she didn’t like the way I was content with so little. I never quite understood what I was supposed to settle for instead.
Family, neighbors, school as seen by a child of Indian immigrants in England. A young girl narrator Ruby, her sister Rania, their gentle father, and their mother tormented with mental illness. Her mother's absences while in mental hospital alternate with her obsession with gardening when at home ("the garden was her main distraction from life”). Little Ruby fills the maternal void by constructing the world of her own, silent, observant, dream-like.
February 24, 2022
I came to this book due to its inclusion on the 2022 long list for The Republic of Consciousness Prize. This is a prize for small, independent presses and this book is published by And Other Stories who operate a hugely successful subscription model (if you read the ebook like I did, the ending comes as a bit of a surprise because there are still about 30 pages of the book to go, but those are the pages that list all the subscribers). That said, the ending has the feel of an ending, so I was more wondering what was going to happen in the next 30 pages than I was surprised that the book ended where it did.
Somebody Loves You is narrated by Ruby, a young British Indian girl in west London. As an aside, my son is married to a British Indian woman who grew up in suburban London (they now live very close to where this book is set). The structure of the book is almost identical to another book on the Roc long list (The Beasts They Turned Away) in that it consists of a large number of very short vignettes that skip around gradually building up the story as they reveal new things to the reader. The vignettes circle around Ruby’s family and friends. It’s a bit like watching an artist paint. I’ve been doing that quite a bit recently whilst watching “Landscape Artist of the Year” on TV and it always fascinates me how artists can jump from one part of their picture to another in a way that appears random and yet, as you watch them paint, a complete picture comes into view. Reading this book feels a bit like that. Or, perhaps, it feels like the way memory works, jumping, sometimes in ways that feel random, from one event to another.
This is Mona Arshi’s debut novel. She has previously published poetry and that is immediately obvious when you begin reading this book. The very first thing we read is:
”A man is offering her a bowl. She peers inside and there is an egg nestled in light peat close to the surface. It is a small blue egg – perfect and complete. She gently lifts it out of the bowl and places it in her mouth and the egg, still warm, breaks onto her tongue, makes her retch a little but still she swallows it. She closes then reopens her eyes and a blue bird escapes from her mouth. Then another and another, until the room is filled with their iridescent turquoise feathers and clamour of yellow-black beaks.”
So, poetry and painting to make a novel. There’s a lot to like here. Early in the novel, Ruby chooses to stop speaking and this means the novel, written from her perspective, feels a lot more like we are observing. The fragmented nature of the storytelling means that the observations are revealed slowly and carefully. Mental illness, racism (my son and his wife witnessed a instance of casual racism just the other day - they weren’t the victims but the women concerned were talking about Indian people within hearing of an obviously Indian woman), misogyny, sexual assault - these are all things most of us would like to see stopped but which are still clearly prominent.
A beautifully written and powerful novel.
Somebody Loves You is narrated by Ruby, a young British Indian girl in west London. As an aside, my son is married to a British Indian woman who grew up in suburban London (they now live very close to where this book is set). The structure of the book is almost identical to another book on the Roc long list (The Beasts They Turned Away) in that it consists of a large number of very short vignettes that skip around gradually building up the story as they reveal new things to the reader. The vignettes circle around Ruby’s family and friends. It’s a bit like watching an artist paint. I’ve been doing that quite a bit recently whilst watching “Landscape Artist of the Year” on TV and it always fascinates me how artists can jump from one part of their picture to another in a way that appears random and yet, as you watch them paint, a complete picture comes into view. Reading this book feels a bit like that. Or, perhaps, it feels like the way memory works, jumping, sometimes in ways that feel random, from one event to another.
This is Mona Arshi’s debut novel. She has previously published poetry and that is immediately obvious when you begin reading this book. The very first thing we read is:
”A man is offering her a bowl. She peers inside and there is an egg nestled in light peat close to the surface. It is a small blue egg – perfect and complete. She gently lifts it out of the bowl and places it in her mouth and the egg, still warm, breaks onto her tongue, makes her retch a little but still she swallows it. She closes then reopens her eyes and a blue bird escapes from her mouth. Then another and another, until the room is filled with their iridescent turquoise feathers and clamour of yellow-black beaks.”
So, poetry and painting to make a novel. There’s a lot to like here. Early in the novel, Ruby chooses to stop speaking and this means the novel, written from her perspective, feels a lot more like we are observing. The fragmented nature of the storytelling means that the observations are revealed slowly and carefully. Mental illness, racism (my son and his wife witnessed a instance of casual racism just the other day - they weren’t the victims but the women concerned were talking about Indian people within hearing of an obviously Indian woman), misogyny, sexual assault - these are all things most of us would like to see stopped but which are still clearly prominent.
A beautifully written and powerful novel.
October 26, 2022
One thing I like about The Goldsmith’s Prize is that there are a lot of what I call ‘Bob Books’ that is the type of novel with elements that appeal to me: mixed timelines which interconnect, references to underground films and music – not just namedropping, something I hate, but actual descriptions and how the work of art affects the protagonists, coming of age and a playful approach to the text. Somebody Loves You is on the Goldsmiths shortlist and it just screams my name loudly.
The book is narrated by Ruby, the child of Pakistan immigrants who is a selective mute. Her life is not easy as her rebellious sister, Rania, causes a lot of stress for her father and her mother is suffering from a mental breakdown. Then there are the cultural differences plus Ruby’s mutism is not helping. Later on in the book an event happens to Ruby’s sister which gives the book a sinister turn.
For a person who revels in silence, Ruby’s narrative voice is pretty loud and her observations and opinions (bar one occasion) dominate the narrative. Structurally Somebody Loves You is written in the form of vignettes documenting Ruby life from childhood to adolescent non chronologically. As Mona Arshi is a poet, the writing ranges from beautiful to comedic to stark. I can guarantee that the reader will be affected by Mona Arshi’s words. Personally there were many times I just reread passages as they struck me.
Somebody Loves You is a fresh take on coming of age novel but despite the experimental nature it still is a poignant and , at times, a funny read.
The book is narrated by Ruby, the child of Pakistan immigrants who is a selective mute. Her life is not easy as her rebellious sister, Rania, causes a lot of stress for her father and her mother is suffering from a mental breakdown. Then there are the cultural differences plus Ruby’s mutism is not helping. Later on in the book an event happens to Ruby’s sister which gives the book a sinister turn.
For a person who revels in silence, Ruby’s narrative voice is pretty loud and her observations and opinions (bar one occasion) dominate the narrative. Structurally Somebody Loves You is written in the form of vignettes documenting Ruby life from childhood to adolescent non chronologically. As Mona Arshi is a poet, the writing ranges from beautiful to comedic to stark. I can guarantee that the reader will be affected by Mona Arshi’s words. Personally there were many times I just reread passages as they struck me.
Somebody Loves You is a fresh take on coming of age novel but despite the experimental nature it still is a poignant and , at times, a funny read.
February 8, 2023
Format: audiobook
Author: Mona Arshi ~ Title: Somebody Loves You ~ Narrator: Mona Arshi
Content: 4 stars ~ Narration: 5 stars
Complete audiobook review
This is quite a unique work of fiction. Short and powerful vignettes that melt into a novel. Just like pieces of poems, words carefully chosen to sound just right. I’ve read a few similar works, where poems form a novel. But this one is still pretty unique in style.
Through these vignettes author tells us a story about Ruby and her family. Beautiful and sometimes heartbreaking. I didn’t know what to expect. But in the end, I liked it.
Narrated by the author, which is very good. Her voice is calm, and it suits these vignettes.
Thanks to Saga Egmont Audio the for the ARC and the opportunity to listen to this! All opinions are my own.
Author: Mona Arshi ~ Title: Somebody Loves You ~ Narrator: Mona Arshi
Content: 4 stars ~ Narration: 5 stars
Complete audiobook review
This is quite a unique work of fiction. Short and powerful vignettes that melt into a novel. Just like pieces of poems, words carefully chosen to sound just right. I’ve read a few similar works, where poems form a novel. But this one is still pretty unique in style.
Through these vignettes author tells us a story about Ruby and her family. Beautiful and sometimes heartbreaking. I didn’t know what to expect. But in the end, I liked it.
Narrated by the author, which is very good. Her voice is calm, and it suits these vignettes.
Thanks to Saga Egmont Audio the for the ARC and the opportunity to listen to this! All opinions are my own.
December 29, 2021
Beautiful and poetic.
December 10, 2023
this was in the poetry section of the library app, so I was abit surprised and abit disappointed when I started listening, and it wasn't poetry 🙃 but as I listened on, the story started to engage me more 🙂
I enjoyed the book, and am not sure this review will do it justice. it was expected back at the library swiftly, and I felt I read it too quickly as a consequence, without much time to pause and process, let alone write notes. so more of a sense review, than a detail review.
the book was both enjoyable, and interesting. interesting in the story, and in the shape and form of it. it read both like a novel/novella, and potentially like a collection of short stories and/or journal/diary entries. is a word for this vignettes? and in form it was largely prose, but with a poetic bent to it... and in some places read like poetry.
the story(s) had a containedness, a beauty, a sorrow, a humour... and alot more. and also contained alot! family relationships, generational perspectives and relationships, young people growing up, mental health, gender, sexuality, racialised experiences, social and societal norms played out and enforced in school environments, difficult home environments, vulnerability to external abuse, food, love, death, gardening and foxes 😃
it felt like a very layered experience, wrt the content and structure... there were depths of experience explored, and at the same time a lighter touch and focal point skillfully maintained, bringing us back to/keeping us held to a nicely balanced line/level throughout the book 😊😍
4.5 🌟🌟🌟🌟 💖
accessed as a library audiobook, read by the author 😊♥
❗️♥️ postscript...
for me also there was a really stand out single sentence that conveyed/tapped into alot wrt the experience of Lyme disease 💔🕷🦌
and I think this was likely not the only example of words pared down to a small number that conveyed alot of/about an experience.
and likely not the only experience that is rarely included in literature to be acknowledged and met with compassion and a simplicity that held alot more depth ♥️
I enjoyed the book, and am not sure this review will do it justice. it was expected back at the library swiftly, and I felt I read it too quickly as a consequence, without much time to pause and process, let alone write notes. so more of a sense review, than a detail review.
the book was both enjoyable, and interesting. interesting in the story, and in the shape and form of it. it read both like a novel/novella, and potentially like a collection of short stories and/or journal/diary entries. is a word for this vignettes? and in form it was largely prose, but with a poetic bent to it... and in some places read like poetry.
the story(s) had a containedness, a beauty, a sorrow, a humour... and alot more. and also contained alot! family relationships, generational perspectives and relationships, young people growing up, mental health, gender, sexuality, racialised experiences, social and societal norms played out and enforced in school environments, difficult home environments, vulnerability to external abuse, food, love, death, gardening and foxes 😃
it felt like a very layered experience, wrt the content and structure... there were depths of experience explored, and at the same time a lighter touch and focal point skillfully maintained, bringing us back to/keeping us held to a nicely balanced line/level throughout the book 😊😍
4.5 🌟🌟🌟🌟 💖
accessed as a library audiobook, read by the author 😊♥
❗️♥️ postscript...
for me also there was a really stand out single sentence that conveyed/tapped into alot wrt the experience of Lyme disease 💔🕷🦌
and I think this was likely not the only example of words pared down to a small number that conveyed alot of/about an experience.
and likely not the only experience that is rarely included in literature to be acknowledged and met with compassion and a simplicity that held alot more depth ♥️
August 27, 2021
I'm surprised by how much I enjoyed this hybrid novel about a South Asian girl's life in England told in short vignettes. Surprised because I usually read genre and because I wouldn't think I would enjoy the short glimpses of memory, bur Arshi is a powerful writer, and the disjointed memories actually seemed more realistic for how a child would make sense of their life.
March 15, 2022
I read this as part of the 2022 Republic of Consciousness Prize.
I can’t explain why I liked this book so much, but I did like it. It is a prose poem narrated by a young girl who gives up talking and her older, tougher sister, their mentally ill mother, and their friends. It’s a story of a girl’s life, a child of immigrants story, a bit of an immigrant story. It is sad, but humorous at times, and the writing is lovely.
Highly recommend.
I can’t explain why I liked this book so much, but I did like it. It is a prose poem narrated by a young girl who gives up talking and her older, tougher sister, their mentally ill mother, and their friends. It’s a story of a girl’s life, a child of immigrants story, a bit of an immigrant story. It is sad, but humorous at times, and the writing is lovely.
Highly recommend.
February 21, 2022
“Artful Scenes from a Troubled Childhood” would be the too on-the-nose title for this episodic and poetic work, and I wouldn’t recommend the change. It would however at least have the merit of describing the dichotomy between the lovely style and the disquieting subject matter of Mona Arshi’s debut novel, now longlisted for the 2022 best UK/Irish small press award, given by the Republic of Consciousness.
Ruby, growing up in London with parents who immigrated from India, does not speak. The novel’s opening prose-poem both informs the reader of this fact and brings us right into its style: “a blue bird escapes from her mouth. Then another and another, until the room is filled with their iridescent turquoise feathers and clamour of yellow-black beaks. A few settle on her head, others perch on her shoulders, but then after a few minutes and for no discernible reason they quickly flit back inside – a hymn of bodies returning as they enter back through her parted lips. Several fly into and penetrate her torso. When the last bird has gone, she closes her mouth and leaves the room.”
“No discernible reason” may put the cause of Ruby’s silence a bit strongly. There is racism from adults and children both, dehumanizing its target. Probably even more damaging in her youngest years is the fact that her mother suffers from mental illness and depression. Frequently hospitalized, and not a reliable source of comfort when not, her mother’s absences and pained presences greatly affect Ruby.
If the use of language offers no comfort, there is the more primal sense of touch, and Ruby does lean on this. For one episode of time as a child she writes words on her skin, and has her friend David write her words for her: “I would stretch the skin on my torso taut as canvas on a frame and he would feed the tip of the pen and copy the patterns and the curlicued script and when his mouth was very near my navel I would touch the top of his hair lightly with my hand.” As a teenager, she seeks communication with another friend this way as well: “I move carefully towards her and lay myself down on her still body and she strokes my hair and we stay like this for a long time. I couldn’t conceive of anything better in the universe than lying on her lovely body like this her heart fluttering underneath mine our fingers threaded together, our breath as fast as kittens.”
The novel offers no resolution or solution. The episodes, up to last (“They had taken her out of bed, and she was waiting for us patiently, her elbows scrubbed but dry with a bubbly texture. I reached over and touched one with my fingertips”), continue the general state of affairs until simply stopping to be told. If this were a plot-driven novel that might be a problem, but then, it’s not. It’s a poem-driven novel, with a voiceless notable voice.
Ruby, growing up in London with parents who immigrated from India, does not speak. The novel’s opening prose-poem both informs the reader of this fact and brings us right into its style: “a blue bird escapes from her mouth. Then another and another, until the room is filled with their iridescent turquoise feathers and clamour of yellow-black beaks. A few settle on her head, others perch on her shoulders, but then after a few minutes and for no discernible reason they quickly flit back inside – a hymn of bodies returning as they enter back through her parted lips. Several fly into and penetrate her torso. When the last bird has gone, she closes her mouth and leaves the room.”
“No discernible reason” may put the cause of Ruby’s silence a bit strongly. There is racism from adults and children both, dehumanizing its target. Probably even more damaging in her youngest years is the fact that her mother suffers from mental illness and depression. Frequently hospitalized, and not a reliable source of comfort when not, her mother’s absences and pained presences greatly affect Ruby.
When I first heard the word agony from the mouth of my mother I was halfway up the stairs and it had escaped from underneath my parents’ bedroom door. It was as if some unknown force had passed me on the staircase; I felt winded and had to quickly grab hold of the bannister to steady myself.
Of all the ‘a’ words, agony is the worst. I wouldn’t wish that word on my greatest enemy. I wasn’t even that sure what the word meant but it was clear to me there was a sliver of glass in the middle of the brittle ‘o’. Agony was the point of no return, no greater anguish could befall you when reached it, and there was no coming back from the edge of its abyss – which was another ‘a’ word.
If the use of language offers no comfort, there is the more primal sense of touch, and Ruby does lean on this. For one episode of time as a child she writes words on her skin, and has her friend David write her words for her: “I would stretch the skin on my torso taut as canvas on a frame and he would feed the tip of the pen and copy the patterns and the curlicued script and when his mouth was very near my navel I would touch the top of his hair lightly with my hand.” As a teenager, she seeks communication with another friend this way as well: “I move carefully towards her and lay myself down on her still body and she strokes my hair and we stay like this for a long time. I couldn’t conceive of anything better in the universe than lying on her lovely body like this her heart fluttering underneath mine our fingers threaded together, our breath as fast as kittens.”
The novel offers no resolution or solution. The episodes, up to last (“They had taken her out of bed, and she was waiting for us patiently, her elbows scrubbed but dry with a bubbly texture. I reached over and touched one with my fingertips”), continue the general state of affairs until simply stopping to be told. If this were a plot-driven novel that might be a problem, but then, it’s not. It’s a poem-driven novel, with a voiceless notable voice.
October 19, 2023
It is probably unfair of me to rate this book because it is so far removed from what gives me reading pleasure. The subject is dark and keeps getting darker; I like an arc that bends toward redemption. The style I would characterize as creative-writing-class-ambitious, a form of prose I always find distancing.
I bought the book, I’m not ashamed to say, exclusively for its cover, which drew me from across a bookstore and made me wonder, What sort of story could be represented by such an image? The title, Somebody Loves You, was equally cryptic. I was forced to enter the reading experience without much in the way of preconceptions. One clue, a groaner, was that the author was a poet trying her hand for the first time at novel writing.
Now, I recently read quite a fine novel written by a poet, The Manningtree Witches, so I wasn’t immediately put off by this knowledge. But this book has many of the characteristics I dread finding in novels written by poets: it is episodic, revealing itself in a series of brief vignettes not much driven by a plot; and it is written in a precise but reticent language designed to conceal as much as it reveals. These are fine qualities in poetry, but I don’t love them in a novel. They might work with connected short fiction, and one might almost place this work in that category.
Turning to what’s going on. The episodes are nearly all written from the point of view of an Indian-British girl. Her father is a hand-wringing sort; she has a brash and cynical older sister; a mother who is desperately sad and periodically psychotic; and a few supportive neighbors, family nembers, and would-be friends, all of whom drift in and out of the picture without having much of an impact. Lacking parents able to engage with her effectively, Ruby grows up withdrawn to an extreme degree—she stops speaking voluntarily at an early age and sticks with it throughout the book, expressing the distress she feels in indirect ways. She is an observant and analytical child, within the limits of her understanding. Although she does well in school, she receives little mentorship and there is no one really to act as a tour guide to the world. Toward the end of the book she experiences a trauma at second hand that pitches her over into some kind of breakdown, not fully clarified.
It is all unrelievedly depressing and the beauty of the author’s prose was little consolation. Tragedy—never my favorite thing—can be redeemed for me if it carries with it grand themes and a sense of universality; but small, personal tragedy carried relentlessly to its end always leaves me feeling as if my time has been a bit wasted. That’s just a personal bias of mine, which is why I feel guilty rating this book.
The cover is indeed gorgeous, as is the book’s design and the quality of the materials used to make it. The publisher has an unusual business model, seeking subscribers to defray the production costs. But I came away feeling that the very beauty of the object was evidence of amateurishness because a cover design is supposed to guide the reader’s expectations about the content and this one really didn’t.
I bought the book, I’m not ashamed to say, exclusively for its cover, which drew me from across a bookstore and made me wonder, What sort of story could be represented by such an image? The title, Somebody Loves You, was equally cryptic. I was forced to enter the reading experience without much in the way of preconceptions. One clue, a groaner, was that the author was a poet trying her hand for the first time at novel writing.
Now, I recently read quite a fine novel written by a poet, The Manningtree Witches, so I wasn’t immediately put off by this knowledge. But this book has many of the characteristics I dread finding in novels written by poets: it is episodic, revealing itself in a series of brief vignettes not much driven by a plot; and it is written in a precise but reticent language designed to conceal as much as it reveals. These are fine qualities in poetry, but I don’t love them in a novel. They might work with connected short fiction, and one might almost place this work in that category.
Turning to what’s going on. The episodes are nearly all written from the point of view of an Indian-British girl. Her father is a hand-wringing sort; she has a brash and cynical older sister; a mother who is desperately sad and periodically psychotic; and a few supportive neighbors, family nembers, and would-be friends, all of whom drift in and out of the picture without having much of an impact. Lacking parents able to engage with her effectively, Ruby grows up withdrawn to an extreme degree—she stops speaking voluntarily at an early age and sticks with it throughout the book, expressing the distress she feels in indirect ways. She is an observant and analytical child, within the limits of her understanding. Although she does well in school, she receives little mentorship and there is no one really to act as a tour guide to the world. Toward the end of the book she experiences a trauma at second hand that pitches her over into some kind of breakdown, not fully clarified.
It is all unrelievedly depressing and the beauty of the author’s prose was little consolation. Tragedy—never my favorite thing—can be redeemed for me if it carries with it grand themes and a sense of universality; but small, personal tragedy carried relentlessly to its end always leaves me feeling as if my time has been a bit wasted. That’s just a personal bias of mine, which is why I feel guilty rating this book.
The cover is indeed gorgeous, as is the book’s design and the quality of the materials used to make it. The publisher has an unusual business model, seeking subscribers to defray the production costs. But I came away feeling that the very beauty of the object was evidence of amateurishness because a cover design is supposed to guide the reader’s expectations about the content and this one really didn’t.
November 28, 2022
Protagonist Ruby is born to a mother with mental illness. The storyline follows Ruby’s life with her family, especially her relationship with her two sisters. Ruby does not speak. It is a lyrically written novella. It felt a bit rushed, and there are few explanations for the characters’ motivations, so some of their actions are puzzling. I liked it enough to read another book by this author.
May 7, 2022
Somebody Loves You
is a lyrical tale of madness, trauma, and love. There’s a hypnotic cadence to the writing, a rhythmic lull accompanies the striking imagery, and the beats in between carry echoes of silent melancholy. As the reader stays enchanted, violence creeps in without noise, and the following moments of reflection and deconstructions prance in tandem with agony and muted rage. Short but biting observations on the female experience — the rubrics of desire and violence entrenched in misogyny — and brief snippets of racism, colourism, and mental-illness thread the scattered vignettes of Ruby’s life into an unflinching, yet mesmerising, portrait of all the spoken and unspoken.
February 24, 2022
I read this in Kindle but now want a physical copy of this beautiful little book.
Ruby gives up talking when she's quite young. It just doesn't seem to be of value. We learn about Ruby through short sketches of her life as she grows, with a few digressions to relate things mostly associated with her mother's mental illness. Ruby is Indian (India Indian, not Native American). She, her sister Rania, her mother, and her father live in the UK. Ruby's grandmother lives in India and makes an occassional appearance when her daughter, Ruby's mom, is slipping away again. It always helps, but grandmother will only stay for short periods. Other relatives show up on occassion to help. Ruby's father is a glass half full kinda guy. He's always sure things aren't that bad or will soon improve, even though they rarely do. What helps Ruby's mom the most is gardening. The neighbor to the right has a great garden and helps Ruby's mom to become quite skilled. There are foxes who sometimes wreck havoc on the garden but Ruby's mom won't let them be killed.
Rania, like Ruby, is quite smart but she's no fading violet. Rania is what is called a "pistol." As a young child, she is into blood. She loves helping when the young neighbor David has nose bleeds. In her teens, she goes to great ends to be in the party set - even to making Ruby (and Ruby's friend) go to a party so the parents will let her go. But a new neighbor, son of the neighbor to the right who died, corners her. Ruby tries hard to help her through the experience.
Through these short sketches we see the world as the very observant Ruby does -- the racism, the pull of social status, mean and nice teachers, and much more. This is the author's first novel but she is a poet and it shows.
This is one of the 10 books on the longlist of the 2022 UK Republic of Consciousness Prize. I appreciated how gracefully and with some degree of humor the author has drawn Ruby in the otherwise difficult situations of her life.
Ruby gives up talking when she's quite young. It just doesn't seem to be of value. We learn about Ruby through short sketches of her life as she grows, with a few digressions to relate things mostly associated with her mother's mental illness. Ruby is Indian (India Indian, not Native American). She, her sister Rania, her mother, and her father live in the UK. Ruby's grandmother lives in India and makes an occassional appearance when her daughter, Ruby's mom, is slipping away again. It always helps, but grandmother will only stay for short periods. Other relatives show up on occassion to help. Ruby's father is a glass half full kinda guy. He's always sure things aren't that bad or will soon improve, even though they rarely do. What helps Ruby's mom the most is gardening. The neighbor to the right has a great garden and helps Ruby's mom to become quite skilled. There are foxes who sometimes wreck havoc on the garden but Ruby's mom won't let them be killed.
Rania, like Ruby, is quite smart but she's no fading violet. Rania is what is called a "pistol." As a young child, she is into blood. She loves helping when the young neighbor David has nose bleeds. In her teens, she goes to great ends to be in the party set - even to making Ruby (and Ruby's friend) go to a party so the parents will let her go. But a new neighbor, son of the neighbor to the right who died, corners her. Ruby tries hard to help her through the experience.
Through these short sketches we see the world as the very observant Ruby does -- the racism, the pull of social status, mean and nice teachers, and much more. This is the author's first novel but she is a poet and it shows.
This is one of the 10 books on the longlist of the 2022 UK Republic of Consciousness Prize. I appreciated how gracefully and with some degree of humor the author has drawn Ruby in the otherwise difficult situations of her life.
November 28, 2021
Thank you so much to Netgalley and Saga Egmont Audio for providing me with this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
This was a book very different form what I am used to as a reader, and I have to say that It felt really nice to change it up. I am not used to non/fiction, for some reason I really never resignate with the stories, but this one made me feel like I was in our main character’s shoes.
It is quite a heartwarming story in which we are inside of this girl’s head as she takes us along her journey.
The audiobook was exceptional, the narrator made me feel like I was in the story and not outside from it. It was sad and harsh at times so it really got to me.
Even tho this was a good one, I do feel like it would not be for everyone. The pacing did felt slow at times and like we were stuck in time a bit. That is one of the reasons why I wasn’t able to give it a higher rating. However, the writing was so beautifully done that made me just keep listening.
Overall it was a great read to disconnect and live through someone else’s eyes!
#SomebodyLovesyou #NetGalley.
This was a book very different form what I am used to as a reader, and I have to say that It felt really nice to change it up. I am not used to non/fiction, for some reason I really never resignate with the stories, but this one made me feel like I was in our main character’s shoes.
It is quite a heartwarming story in which we are inside of this girl’s head as she takes us along her journey.
The audiobook was exceptional, the narrator made me feel like I was in the story and not outside from it. It was sad and harsh at times so it really got to me.
Even tho this was a good one, I do feel like it would not be for everyone. The pacing did felt slow at times and like we were stuck in time a bit. That is one of the reasons why I wasn’t able to give it a higher rating. However, the writing was so beautifully done that made me just keep listening.
Overall it was a great read to disconnect and live through someone else’s eyes!
#SomebodyLovesyou #NetGalley.
dnf
February 20, 2022DNF @ 25%
June 29, 2022
Don’t let this fun, bright and cheery looking cover fool you, this book may appear like a “frolicking, forestry adventure“, but what lies inside, is an intricately woven tale, exploring both the freedoms and limitation of love, language and communication.
Somebody Loves You follows a non-linear “plot” that encompasses everything from; death, deterioration of mental health, sexuality and discrimination, of a young -voluntarily mute, Indian girl called Ruby, as she observes, navigates and reflects on her early childhood upbringing, in the UK.
There is so much that can be said from the silence that Ruby chooses to live by. Mainly that her perspective on the world around her -People, places, the environment and atmosphere in general, are so much more heightened and vividly drawn. Especially when it comes to her fraught and -in some ways, emotionally distant relationship towards her mother.
This was definitely different to my usual reading go to (as I tend to stick to the ol’ fiction) but it felt good to shake things up -and definitely made me want to read more from authors of south Asian decent. So if you have any recommendations, please hit me up!
3 stars
P.S thanks again to the publishers for sending me a copy to review!
https://www.instagram.com/dylankakoulli/
Somebody Loves You follows a non-linear “plot” that encompasses everything from; death, deterioration of mental health, sexuality and discrimination, of a young -voluntarily mute, Indian girl called Ruby, as she observes, navigates and reflects on her early childhood upbringing, in the UK.
There is so much that can be said from the silence that Ruby chooses to live by. Mainly that her perspective on the world around her -People, places, the environment and atmosphere in general, are so much more heightened and vividly drawn. Especially when it comes to her fraught and -in some ways, emotionally distant relationship towards her mother.
This was definitely different to my usual reading go to (as I tend to stick to the ol’ fiction) but it felt good to shake things up -and definitely made me want to read more from authors of south Asian decent. So if you have any recommendations, please hit me up!
3 stars
P.S thanks again to the publishers for sending me a copy to review!
https://www.instagram.com/dylankakoulli/
January 23, 2022
Somebody Loves You is, on the surface, deceptively simple: Ruby, a young girl who has given up speech and exists in a quiet world of her own making, shuffles through childhood memories, making beautiful vignettes of piecemeal moments – chapters are often only a page or two long, and the scenes jump back and forth through time. In some ways, this is an intimate story of a family and its struggles, and the relationship between Ruby and her sister is particularly poignantly depicted.
However, like Natasha Brown’s novel, this book is no simple domestic drama. The forces that press down on Ruby and her family are elemental in scope, and there are moments where the universe seems to crack and split and everything at once pours out. The shadows of racism, of mental illness, of suppressed trauma, thicken and swirl around the edges of the story, and it is an immensely powerful piece of work. But there is also quiet beauty, lines of poetic prose which delicately enter the veins, so subtle and true and precise that even though the book is short, I spent a long time on each section, immersing myself in the words.
This is a book that throbs and hums with the power of language. The fact that Ruby, who does not speak, is the one to lead us through it, left me with a really strong sense of both sadness (the ones whose voices are most worth listening to are so often the ones who are unheard) and also hope: powerful words don’t have to be loud and brash, they can be quiet and beautiful and all the more meaningful for that. I can guarantee I will be rereading this book, as I feel I have barely scratched the surface, and that it will have something more to offer on each reading. I can’t recommend it enough.
However, like Natasha Brown’s novel, this book is no simple domestic drama. The forces that press down on Ruby and her family are elemental in scope, and there are moments where the universe seems to crack and split and everything at once pours out. The shadows of racism, of mental illness, of suppressed trauma, thicken and swirl around the edges of the story, and it is an immensely powerful piece of work. But there is also quiet beauty, lines of poetic prose which delicately enter the veins, so subtle and true and precise that even though the book is short, I spent a long time on each section, immersing myself in the words.
This is a book that throbs and hums with the power of language. The fact that Ruby, who does not speak, is the one to lead us through it, left me with a really strong sense of both sadness (the ones whose voices are most worth listening to are so often the ones who are unheard) and also hope: powerful words don’t have to be loud and brash, they can be quiet and beautiful and all the more meaningful for that. I can guarantee I will be rereading this book, as I feel I have barely scratched the surface, and that it will have something more to offer on each reading. I can’t recommend it enough.
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