Shortlisted for Women’s Prize for Fiction 2024, Soldier Sailor is incredible and so relatable that I had to put it down after I read the first couple of chapters. If I were to write a book about my experience of being a mother, I would write this one (of course, without the incredible literary talent that Clair Kilroy has). The writing is hypnotic, making you feel like you walk in someone else’s dream and you can’t move much, you are dragged around by a plot that you can not control. How being a new mother felt to me. 

There is not much of a story, the book is a stream of consciousness, going back and forth in time, without an apparent aim. The narrator, Soldier, is a new mother who struggles with the guilt of feeling that she is not enough for her child (Sailor), even if she loves him powerfully, she feels she can not give him what he needs and tries to abandon him. The story throws you headfirst into this raw, unfiltered experience of this new mother, isolated and shrunk to the confines of her apartment and the constant needs Sailor has. 

Kilroy has no intent to romanticise motherhood, but to expose the often-silenced struggle faced by many women in the early stages of parenthood. Unfolding as a monologue from Soldier to Sailor, the novel has a singular focus on the crushing isolation that motherhood brings. Soldier’s past life, her job, and her social circle all fade into the background, replaced by the relentless demands of caring for a baby. The external world becomes a distant dream, amplifying Soldier’s sense of being trapped within the monotony of diaper changes and sleepless nights.

You never know where you are in time with this novel. While this might confuse some readers and make them feel lost, if you give up the need for a straight timeline and a plot, you can experience this book viscerally rather than rationally. However, some parts of the books might resonate with most parents, as they refer to the unbalanced distribution of efforts of caring for the child between women and men. Soldier’s husband is only present in the narrative in the most tense moments, during arguments, or moments where she lashes out, exhausted, alone, and ignored by him and society, trying to wake him up, make him understand the impossible loneliness and helplessness that comes with caring for a small child. 

Kilroy’s criticism of patriarchy and its impact on women is on point and may raise your heartbeat. Kilroy highlights a crucial message through this: the societal exploration that women take on the primary caregiving role, while the impact of fatherhood is often minimised. While this does not apply to all families, I believe it does to most, however. Soldier carries the weight of motherhood alone and shares her experience with her son through the book, asking hi, and urging him to do better when he is an adult.  

Besides, the ever-present exhaustion Soldier experiences, which you can feel as you read along, becomes a metaphor for the emotional toll of new motherhood. Kilroy’s visceral descriptions of sleep deprivation and the physical demands of caring for a baby paint a picture of a woman pushed to her limits. The exhaustion becomes a constant companion, a reminder of the immense sacrifice motherhood entails. One of the most powerful scenes for me was the part where Sailor had a fever, and woke up in the middle of the night, struggling to bring down his fever while he threw up the meds, she desperately took him out for a stroll by the sea. The line between real and surreal blurs in these scenes and she almost drowns with the baby, accidentally getting too close to the shore while the tide is up.

Soldier’s internal monologue carries the weight of self-doubt. As a new mother, we are riddled with guilt from the moment we give birth to our children. One of my favourite books on child-rearing is “We F*ck Them Up”, which shows that there is no path a parent takes that doesn’t affect their children, so the only thing we can do is our best, which will depend on our context and resources (emotional, physical, financial). So, we question all the decisions we make, from what we feed them, to the sleep routines, to whatever else we choose to do to raise them. It doesn’t help that the internet and social media are ready to mom-shame women at every turn, even unintentionally (just search articles on co-sleeping, the conflicting articles are mind-numbing). The lack of external validation, the societal pressure to be a perfect mother, and the sheer exhaustion all contribute to this gnawing feeling of inadequacy new mothers have.

Soldier Sailor is not a celebration of motherhood. You will be disappointed if you read this book with that in mind. I could see criticism on GR made by women who want to show that motherhood is not all dark. But I don’t think Kilroy intended to present it so either. The moments of tenderness that Soldier have with Sailor, the love she constantly expresses for him, and an all-encompassing, self-sacrificing love, are heartwarming and show that there is no love like a mother’s love.  The book is a call for open dialogue about the realities of early parenthood, particularly the isolation and self-doubt that can plague new mothers. We need to talk about the beauty of being a mother but also acknowledge the unseen sacrifices women make and challenge the imbalanced expectations placed on mothers. The society we built, where we do not have “a village” to support us, is hostile to mothers. Ultimately, the novel serves as a powerful reminder of the strength and resilience it takes to navigate the demanding yet extraordinary journey of motherhood.