louzr's reviews
133 reviews

read: 09/09/23 - 09/09/23 | spoilers!
I always gravitate to books about grief, finding it the most intimidating emotion, and this story painted it so beautifully. The entire book is filled with quotes to pick from, and, although short, the entire thing was a lump-in-the-throat sort of read for me. The initial grief, the avoidance, the indulgence, the moving on; all of it hurt just as equally.
I will note my favourite line, however, as:

"By the side of the road was a young dead fox, eyes open, stuck frozen to the grass, looking more still-born than road-killed."

It has stuck with me ever since I read it.
A brief and beautiful read.

read: 13/08/23 - 09/09/23 | spoilers!
This book had many amazing attributes. The plot is immediately gripping. Its metaphor is enhanced by its realism and the horrifying fact that the fiction of this book does not seem too far-fetched from a modern-day prison system. We are met with many facts to enhance the plot points via footnotes, which I think Adjei-Brenyah uses very effectively at times.

In fact, the most stand-out moment of the book for me was when, during a scene of police brutality, we see a footnote and look down to read "*Don't look down. Help me. Please. Help me." The technique, though a feature used explicitly to break the fourth wall, felt incredibly immersive.
The book makes us ask many questions. Who deserves to be incarcerated? What level of punishment is justifiable? When do the enforcers of punishment become morally equal to those they are punishing? When do WE become morally equal to those we are punishing?

Many aspects were explored during this story, and as educational and informative as they were, it became a bit of a fault for the book. There were a tad too many perspectives, which meant time was taken away from primary characters that lead to a sense of emotional shallowness to the book. The ending was a stomach punch, yet I felt it could have been weighted by more time spent with our main characters.
The pacing was also off at times. The book took me some time to get through, and the main plot point of the book, stated in the blurb itself, is our two main characters fighting, yet I feel like we take far too long to get to even a mention of it. Despite the title and the blurb, I feel as though the book may have actually benefitted from not telling us the aspect of the 'all-stars' before reading; the initial premise of prisoners fighting for freedom was interesting enough to capture an audience. It just felt a little underwhelming to know the major plot twist of the book yet spend forever waiting for it.
Nevertheless, the majority of this book was great. I loved the different narrative voices, I enjoyed the creative uses of footnotes. Its commentaries of systematic racism, over-consumption, and the relationship of power and abuse, were well-spoken and gripping. It was wonderful in its political voice, I just wished for a little more substance and emotion with the character side of things.

read: 30/07/23 - 02/08/23
The prose was, as always from Armfield, intoxicating. The stories were gothic and weird. The themes were intriguing. As with all short story collections, some didn't stick out as much as others, hence the four stars, yet, overall, I loved this book.

read: 06/07/23 - 12/07/23 | spoilers!
I think, when it comes to media, there are two categories: media for the affected and media for the unaffected. When you create something for the affected, you create something too exact and personal for the unaffected to understand. When you create something for the unaffected, you create something too vague and 'educational' for the affected to relate to. This book is so unapologetically the former, and I adored it.

By the time we reach the end of this book, we realise that the main character is, in fact, the janitor who has created an alternate reality to live and cope in, and that this is the reality we, as the reader, follow. It is an ingenious simulation of heavy maladaptive daydreaming and the way trauma manifests in the brain.
It was incredible to see how effortlessly symptoms and flaws of these coping mechanisms were weaved in to the story. How the janitor restarts his music after being interrupted so he can reset his alternate reality. How Jake's parents get older throughout the evening, because the janitor's parents are now dead, and it's hard to recall them as just one age. How our main character cannot decipher whether the childhood photos are of her or of Jake, because, as we learn, they are the same person. These little moments are added in the movie adaptation, too: Lucy's jumper constantly changing colours, the song the janitor is listening to suddenly playing through the car radio, the dog shaking for far too long because it's not doing so naturally.
It isn't a leap to realise that, though never explicitly said, the janitor has repressed something to the literal basement of his mind and this reality is a distraction from it, yet it's no longer working, and that's where our book begins.
"I'm thinking of ending things. Once this thought arrives, it stays. It sticks. It lingers. It dominates."
Of course, our main character is talking about breaking up with Jake, but when we realise they are the same mind, the narrative becomes a very accurate depiction of dealing with suicidal thoughts, and how these thoughts have permeated our janitor's coping mechanism. Slowly, horrifically, bit by bit, these thoughts take over the narrative until they blend into one and the book ends with suicide. The title is just one of many things that is layered in this book, and it is so gripping to watch everything you read unravel to mean something else.

This book perfectly blends horror and pain, and was an amazing representation of what it feels like to lose yourself in a coping mechanism.