Written by Elizaveta Kolesova, edited by Cheyenne Holborough and Sadia Aktar

The UK publishing houses continued to release books even during the first coronavirus lockdown and this year, the world has seen many new novels from brilliant female authors of different nationalities and cultural backgrounds, let’s discuss some of them.

“The Vanishing Half” by Brit Bennet

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The novel is about the phenomenon of “white passing” in the United States in the last century, when people of multiracial ancestry and fair skin tried to assimilate with the white community to avoid discrimination. One of the protagonists of the novel decides to break all connections with her family in order to “become white”.

“The Other Passenger” by Louis Candlish

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The theme of wealth inequality, which has become the basis of many classic novels, does not lose its relevance nowadays. The thriller “The Other Passenger” destroys the illusion of the seemingly perfect life of Londoners: many of them spend their best years in debt and working low-paid jobs. Sometimes this despair drives people to commit crimes.

“If I Had Your Face” by Francesca Cha

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Modern South Korea is obsessed with rigid beauty standards that push young women to undergo dangerous and expensive plastic surgery. The author compares her protagonists with little mermaids who walked on whetted blades but were “able to dance like no human has ever danced before”.

“The First Woman” by Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi

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What is it like to be a woman in Idi Amin’s Uganda during the regime of one of the cruellest dictators in history, in a country raging with corruption and war, and where tribal laws still reign. The heroines try not to lose their identity in a staunchly patriarchal society.

Studying the origins of indigenous feminism, the author refers to African folklore, stories about the first women who walked the Earth.

“Burnt Sugar” by Anvi Doshi

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It is a powerful novel about the painful and complicated relationship between mother and daughter. The story is set in the Indian city of Pune and shows us the extreme poverty of life in the ashrams, contrasted with wealthy Indian society.

“Sisters” by Daisy Johnson

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“Sisters” is a dark gothic thriller about mysterious and harmful relationships between two sisters, September and July. The author’s narrative style turns even descriptions of domestic everyday life into chilling episodes which can be compared to horror stories.

“The Liar’s Dictionary” by Eley Williams

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It is a novel with two parallel storylines: Victorian London of 1899 and modern London of our time. The events take place at a publishing house, Swansby, which is occupied with producing a dictionary.

One of the most distinguishing features of this novel is its brave and experimental language: the author takes a creative approach and uses dictionary terms as a part of the narration. 

One of the few good things to come out of this time we’re spending tucked away in our homes is the huge amount of creative content being released. Sure, movie theatres are closed and sadly so are traditional theatres, but I am finding that many artists are building up an arsenal of work, ready to be released when we can share a public space safely again. Until then, other platforms (even TV networks) are using this time to unify, but also diversify by releasing unique content. Female protagonists are becoming increasingly powerful and complicated – as seen in the Queen’s Gambit. Refugees are being shown as more than just victims such as in His House. It seems as though we have moved past a time of politically correct and into a time of bespoke storytelling.

In this short series of writing I seek to explore the social necessity of writing inclusive characters. In this time of global crisis, it is easy to recognize that many of us have never felt more isolated, we are missing our families, we feel like we’re losing parts of our identity. Some of us are losing our identities due to lack of routine.  At other times we quite literally lose our identity because even the most familiar people look like strangers to us because of the necessity of wearing a face mask.  For the first part of this series I would like to take a look at His House, directed by Remi Weeks. Halloween has come and gone, and with it the memories (and sometimes nightmares) of many horror movies have come and gone as well. His House, on the other hand, has stuck in my mind and transcends the horror genre entirely. The movie follows a young Sudanese refugee couple that arrives in London. The culture shock for the couple and lack of empathy from the UK immigration office is a tension that carries from the beginning to the end of the film. I’ve never seen a film that so perfectly balances drama and horror before—the script swings effortlessly between each of these moods and explores a very believable and heart-breaking story of asylum.  The film also heavily explores identity and the reality of having to give up everything and start over, while also feeling completely alienated. Bol and his wife Rial are incredibly grateful when they are given asylum in the UK after an obviously stressful interrogation period. The ‘home’ they’re given on an estate is derelict with abandoned filthy furniture, countless holes in the walls and pests. The couple is immediately elated and their first question to the council manager is “Is this whole place ours?”. Bol very quickly pushes himself to assimilate by going to the barber and then the pub while his wife struggles to leave the house. The story touches on a very real pressure that exists for immigrants (especially refugees) to quickly assimilate into the society they enter. It is evident that Bol and Rial are both suffering from trauma, and yet they are told to be “good” as to not further the bad reputation of the refugees. The psychological state of this vulnerable couple is overlooked and the obvious trauma they are suffering from is ignored. It isn’t long before Bol’s past begins to literally haunt him and there is a battle between his mental torments and the necessity to continue being an upstanding tenant as to not put their asylum at risk. It’s evident that the director of His House did an incredible amount of research and put so much care into telling a story of trauma, identity, and the often overlooked struggle of being an immigrant.

Written by Alexandra Hakli

Edited by Amy Barlow

I have a secret and it always follows me. It started off as something so small, something to ignore that you could write on a post-it note and forget about once it fell off the wall. It was barely even a whisper, no bigger than an atom. Until it wasn’t anymore. Until it went from being smaller than an atom, to being the enormous shadow that would hang over me wherever I went. I would feel happy only for it to tell me I don’t deserve it, I would want to confide in others only for it to say to me that they would never understand, I’d want to eat and it would ask me, “Haven’t you looked in the mirror? You’ve definitely had enough.”

I can feel it on my back when I can’t get up in the morning and when my mum calls me, “Come on, don’t you have class today?” I can feel it breathe on my neck when I’m happy, and clasp my neck when I’m scared. It shouts at me when I’m lonely that I’m destined to be alone and whispers to me, “Don’t wake up,” when I sleep at night. Its cackling pierces my ears as my sobbing attempts to deafen them.

Often, I’m asked by people:

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you okay?”

“What’s up with you today?”

“You’re acting strange?”

“Why are you being so weird?”

Strange. Weird. Wrong. Okay. The voice tells me that I’m not okay because there is something wrong with me and that what’s wrong with me is both weird and strange. Although, I do have another secret that I keep. This secret asks me, “So, on a scale of 1 to 10 how have you been feeling these past 2 weeks? 10 being the best and 1 being the worst,” and I answer the first time,

“I would say about a 3,” my first secret chimes in to punish me,

“What’s the point in getting help if you’re just going to lie? You might as well stop now, it’s not like they’ll actually be able to help someone who’s this much of a mess.” This secret would tell me otherwise, however. It would tell me that none of the things I’ve been through is my fault. It’s not my fault that person hurt me or that I didn’t get the grade or that someone didn’t show they cared for me enough. Why would it be my fault? So, this secret doesn’t follow me but instead, it saves me. It laughs with me when I’m happy and it hugs me when I’m scared. It tells me my mum is in the living room when I’m lonely and whispers, “Sweet dreams,” when I sleep at night. It gets a tissue so I can dry my tears.

Over time, this secret, much like the first, has begun to grow and instead of being a shadow, it walks beside me like a friend. Sometimes, it’s busy or I lose it while I’m walking but it finds me again and whenever it does. I’m certain that things aren’t always cheery and bright I know that there will always be moments where things feel good. Even if that good moment is just for a single second. Any amount of good, is great.

I talked to a friend today and they asked me, “Hey, how have you been lately? I know things are kind of rough right now but good or bad, how are you?” For once I didn’t hear my first secret speak to me so this time, I could speak without the weight of it sitting with me, the guilt of its existence resting on my shoulders. I told them,

“Things have been rough lately but right now, I’m doing good. What about you?”

Written by Cheyenne Holborough and edited by Sadia Aktar, Elizaveta Kolesova and Cheyenne Holborough