As someone who reads a lot of books, I find it harder and harder to be surprised and enthralled with each new read completed. Stories that explore love, romance and family can often be repetitive, sometimes even predictable. This month’s novel was far from any of those things and left me lying in bed, AirPods in, unable to press pause on the audio.
Sara Jafari’sThe Mismatch was published by Penguin in 2021. It’s been on my list ever since, and I’m only sorry I’ve just got around to reading it. The book is at its heart a romance, but it also offers insightful musings on identity, religion and class, alongside many other poignant themes. The story jumps back and forward in time, following Soraya’s life in the 2010s and her mother Neda’s, spanning the latter third of the 20th Century. Through a cross-generational narrative, Jafari explores how these two women navigate their first loves and first heartbreaks, as well as wrestling with their identities as British-Iranian women.
We first meet Soraya at the end of her studies where she stands on the brink of adult life. As a result of her strict upbringing and Muslim faith, she is yet to have sex, engage in a romantic relationship, or have her first kiss. She is plagued by the fear that Allah is watching her, mostly instilled (and often used as a threat) by her family. On deciding that she must engage in ‘kissing practice’ to prepare her for adulthood, she starts to date Magnus who on the surface appears to be a typical rugby lad. On the outside, he is a player and completely not her type – perfect for some meaningless experimentation. However, in classic rom-com style, Soraya quickly discovers that there is much more to him than meets the eye.
In the same way that Soraya’s chapters explore her burgeoning romance with Magnus and her coming-of-age story, Neda’s story documents her own upbringing and her eventual marriage to Soraya’s father, Hussain. Beginning with life in 70s Iran, a place alive with political and social change, Jafari carefully depicts the complexities of being a Muslim woman and the simultaneous joys and challenges that it presents. Neda chooses to wear a Hijab, unlike so many women in Iran at the time who see them as a threat to women’s liberation. This interesting look at feminism and how it can mean different things to different women was really refreshing, especially for the romance genre. In the same way that Soraya wrestles with her identity as a woman in modern-day Britain, Neda faces the same challenges throughout her life in Iran and later in the UK too.
I’ve seen this book compared to Sally Rooney’s Normal People, and I can certainly see the similarities. Jafari writes scenes of love tenderly and with intimacy, and I found myself holding my breath across multiple pages in fear of disturbing the story. While love is the central theme of the novel and is brought to life masterfully, it’s the messier ongoings in the background that make it exceptional. The Mismatch depicts stories of addiction, abuse, toxic masculinity and misogyny, all while highlighting incredible friendships, fraught familial relationships and love in all its glory. There’s so much to be said about this book and I enjoyed every page, particularly the audio version which is beautifully read by Ajjaz Awad and Afsaneh Dehrouyeh.
If you’re looking for a page-turning romance that offers more than just surface-level appeal, this is the book for you. I adored Sara Jafari’s debut and can’t wait to read more from this author. Support indie bookshops by buying The Mismatchhere.
Words: Beth Barker
Beth Barker is a writer and blogger from Blackpool, now working in Manchester. She also co-hosts Up North Books, a podcast celebrating books and writers from the North of England.
Beth wanted to contribute a monthly review to NRTH LASS in order to shine a light on Northern women writing great books. The North is very much underrepresented in publishing and she hopes a monthly review throughout 2021 will showcase the talent Northern women have to offer.
For more book reviews and insights on publishing in the North, follow Beth on Instagram and Twitter.
The other day, I put forward the offer to write a piece for International Women’s Day. I had just finished The Female Eunuch and purchased The Feminine Mystique. I was feeling, once again, that I could put into words that very unique, but also somewhat universal concept of what it is to be a woman.
I wrote my first On Being a Woman essay this time last year. This was fuelled by a seething anger and profound devastation following the murder of Sarah Everard. It discussed violence against women, sexual harassment and how there are consistent attempts to silence both the female voice and female truth. This essay, one year on, isn’t necessarily intended to be a reflection. It will not say look how far we’ve come because at the moment this is not how I feel. What I feel is boredom; not apathy or fatalism but sheer boredom. A sense that as many famous placards so often read: I can’t believe I still have to protest this shit.
I am bored of being angry and I am bored of being conceived as boring. A stuck record. That outspoken one who won’t leave things alone. That girl who ruins other people’s fun. (I distinctly remember a mutual acquaintance telling me they were off to see Fifty Shades of Grey and she hadn’t wanted to tell me because I’d ruin it with my feminism.) I am bored of hearing that it’s not all men. I am bored of the patriarchy and I am bored of the perception that being a feminist is undesirable; that if I define myself this way I am purely here to ruin your fun. That I hate men and long for a world without them. That I’m complaining about solved problems and conceived notions. That I should bloody well recognise that we’ve never had it so good (and then, consequently, shut up).
*
Germaine Greer infuriates a lot of people. Germaine Greer infuriates me. There are many reasons why this is the case, which in recent years has a lot to do with her attitudes towards inclusivity. At this point I’d like to make a full disclaimer: I do not intend to discuss this, I intend to focus on the fact that I have recently read The Female Eunuch and how I feel about that particular work. I propose taking a Roland Barthes-esque approach here; a focus purely on the text and less on the author.
The Female Eunuch is provocative. It’s pretty provocative now so when it hit shelves in 1972 it was even more so. It has to be read in context, which at times I struggled to do. It also took me quite a long time to read, which for me is never a good sign. As a twenty-first century reader I found that some of the arguments Greer made lacked a certain nuance. There’s a whole chapter on the womb (that ever present menace in the female anatomy), which felt like it ended with her telling me to just suck it up; if you want equality with men you can’t let a silly little thing like bleeding once a month get in the way. For me, being equal is not akin to being the same. It is possible to treat others equally, with the same levels of dignity, respect and worth whilst acknowledging difference, whether that be anatomical, social or cultural. This was gripe number one.
Number two came in the form of her appearing extremely critical of women in general, implying that as we are complicit in the patriarchy we are basically digging our own graves. Literally. I became more sympathetic to Greer’s discussions in the final few chapters on male violence towards women, but again Greer implies that part of the problem here is that within every woman is a masochist willing the event to happen. Feminism, like anything, is difficult. Not everyone is going to get on. Women are people too(!) and people don’t always see eye to eye, I get that, believe me. However, much feminist theory starts from the point that women are the largest underclass and they just haven’t realised yet. In order to achieve revolution (whether that be class, race or gender based) the oppressed class must become aware of their oppression and identify their oppressors. No one is ever going to get on with everyone, but as long as there is criticism and infighting within the oppressed group, their oppressors have nothing to fear. My main problem though is that in the book’s final pages I wasn’t left with any hope – no solutions, no breaks in the cloud – just a simple question: What will you do?
Become pissed off apparently. Greer pushes boundaries, which has invited scrutiny recently, but she’s been infuriating people for much longer than this for one simple reason: she’s a woman who has no qualms complaining and making people listen to her opinions. Those opinions may be questionable, but they are opinions, not facts, and I couldn’t begin to tell you the amount of questionable man’s opinions I’ve had to listen to over the years, often with no dissenting voice in the room. Everyone (women and men included) finds it easier to silence the female voice than the male’s. And this is what I am bored of.
I finished The Female Eunuch and said that it just didn’t feel relevant anymore. This is unfair. It is relevant because had it not been written then all the feminist writers I read today would not have had one of the cornerstones to this cannon. Also, a lot of the ideas are still applicable. Violence towards women is still an epidemic. The pressure from the patriarchy to look and behave a certain way is still there, only now there are more voices expressing dissent.
*
I know that generally I have an innate desire to please. I write these kinds of pieces and desperately try to justify myself so as not to come across as difficult. I want my arguments watertight, factual, backed up with truth and statistics so as not to appear too emotional. Because as a woman, that’s where they dismiss you with the most ease, with the notion that you are simply hysterical.
As I write and voice my complaints I feel guilty. There are privileges I have that many women do not. The point of International Women’s Day has been to celebrate women’s achievements, not bring a downer on the whole thing with negative pieces such as this one. However, I shouldn’t feel guilty. I am not ruining anything, not playing the cynic or negating the marvellous things women achieve on a daily basis, but I am realistic. International Women’s Day is great but sometimes it feels like there’s a manipulation of this event into yet another capitalist machine that simply exists to placate women. You’ve got your day, what more do you want?
In the Victorian period women had to put up with such nonsense as the ‘wandering womb’, then came Freud and the idea that what us women were in fact suffering with was ‘penis envy’. Then Mid-Century capitalism told us that we had it all, what could we possibly want with feeling discontent? Extra measures were put in place to shield the middle-class housewife from the horrors of the world; we were placed in protective bubbles made up of laundry, hoovering and decent homemade meals and then they wondered why many felt trapped. How long is it going to take for it to be universally accepted that what is wrong is patriarchal systems and the incessant insistence of men to seek to define us.
Let women tell you what the problem is. When we visit doctors don’t tell women that the pain they are feeling is simply in their heads. Let women tell you why they are afraid to walk alone in the dark as opposed to simply exclaiming that it’s nonsense women feel this way because it’s not all men. Let women run for parliament without fear, let women make policy, enact change and have a say in the communities they participate in. Let women lead in areas where they are most affected and where they have the most expertise. Let it be the right person for the job, not the right man. Let us examine our language and reveal how ingrained the patriarchy actually is. Let women have autonomy over their own bodies and let women tell you no without fear of the repercussions. Let yourself take all women seriously, not just your wife, mother, grandmother, sister. Let yourself extend respect to women beyond your direct understanding; those of different races, ages, classes, abilities and cultures.
*
Yet again I feel the record is stuck. This essay arose from the reading of seminal feminist literature and the hope that I would see how far society had progressed from the days of Germaine Greer and her female eunuch. I think feminism has progressed. I’m not too sure about society.
When women are still being murdered by strangers in public places at an alarming rate I find this difficult to believe. When even more women are being murdered by loved ones in the place they call home I find it harder still. When convictions for rape remain so alarmingly low and when truly representative statistics for all the above crimes remain so hard to come by I continue to feel despair. When I see and read that globally those who suffer most at the hands of the climate crisis and war are women and children I struggle to see the progress. Inequality for me is acting as if someone or something has less worth than you and ultimately I believe this still happens for women, especially in a global sense. Things have advanced somewhat in the West but there are still complexities. If it was solved I wouldn’t be writing this alongside countless others who are arguing similar points. Progress is not victory, but the small victories are important so that you know it’s worth continuing.
I am going to end this piece with a reading list. I am angry and I know I deploy a certain amount of wilful ignorance so that I am able to live my life day-by-day without internally combusting, however I dislike the notion that there is no hope. Hope for me is not expectation, it holds no guarantees and no disappointments. It is faith. I have faith that as long as women keep using the voices they have; those unique, compassionate, angry, intelligent, hopeful voices, that there will continue to be small victories. There will continue to be small victories that are big victories for those they directly affect, forming great triumphs on the road to a world that will continue to get better.
After all, no one suggests to me that my womb has found its way into my brain anymore so things must really be looking up. (Although I cannot speak for all women on this point, it’s probably still happening somewhere.)
Further Reading for Hopeful Futures:
Invisible Women – Caroline Criado Perez
My Life on the Road – Gloria Steinem
The Most of Nora Ephron – Nora Ephron
All We Can Save: Truth, Courage and Solutions for the Climate Crisis – Edited by Ayana Elizabeth Johnson & Katharine K. Wilkinson
Difficult Women – Helen Lewis
Sharp – Michelle Dean
By the Light of My Father’s Smile – Alice Walker
Cassandra Speaks – Elizabeth Lesser
The Pursuit of Love – Nancy Mitford
Decisions and Dissents of Ruth Bader Ginsburg – Penguin Liberty Collection
Things I Don’t Want to Know – Deborah Levy
The Beauty Myth, Promiscuities & Vagina – (All) Naomi Wolf
The Feminine Mystique – Betty Friedan
Let Me Tell You What I Mean – Joan Didion
The Female Eunuch – Germaine Greer (if you dare…)
Saffron Rain lives and writes in Stockport. She was born and raised around Manchester, only moving away to get her degree and subsequent MA in English Lit in Sheffield. During this time she wrote ardently on the North, particularly female writers and filmmakers.
Her preferred form is the personal essay and she enjoys writing about topics that she connects to on a personal level. Some of these have appeared in independent publications and she shares longer pieces on her own blog. She loves to read, particularly women, and will take any opportunity to crowbar Joan Didion into a conversation.
“We bring talented women together to create a space where they can shine, whilst raising money and awareness for issues affecting women”
Kim McBride
SuppHER is a Manchester-based supper club powered by women, which has been running events around the city for the past two years.
Founders Anna Søgaard, sous chef at Erst and Kim McBride, former sommelier at Erst and The Creameries and now support worker in the Social Care sector, wanted to create a platform for celebrating female talent in the hospitality industry, whilst also using their skills to raise money for charities supporting women.
We recently caught up with Anna and Kim to find out about creating spaces for women in hospitality, supporting communities and what people can expect from their upcoming International Women’s Day event.
A: When Kim and I met while working at Erst, we would often speak about issues affecting women in our community. Eventually we decided to throw a charity dinner to support Trafford rape crisis which is where Kim was volunteering at the time. We wanted to use our skills to bring people together over food and wine and shed light on the issues we cared about while trying to make a difference in any way we could. Later on, SuppHER grew into the collaborative events that they are now that allows us to showcase the many female talents in hospitality.
You donate your profits to a number of women’s charities, can you tell us a bit about the charities that you’re raising funds for?
K: We donate predominantly to small, local women’s charities. When we started SuppHER I was volunteering for Trafford Rape Crisis and just wanted to tell the world about the amazing work that they do, that’s why TRC were the first charity that we donated to. Since then, we have raised money for MASH, who support sex workers in Manchester with provisions, counselling, a needle exchange and so much more. We have donated to Women for Women International who support female survivors of war to rebuild their lives; HostNation UK who are a refugee-befriending charity and our IWD event will raise money for Manchester Women’s Aid who support victims of Domestic Abuse.
One of the main goals of SuppHER is to create a space for women, who are the some of the women you would like to platform?
A: After the first couple of supper clubs we hosted, we had a huge outpour of women contacting us asking if they could get involved. I think that says everything about the women in our industry. They all wanted an opportunity to support not only the women struggling in our community, but also each other. We were so overwhelmed by it and that’s when SuppHER became collaborative dinners. It’s amazing getting to show people how much female talent our industry has. Women in general are so often overlooked and don’t get the same exposure that men do in hospitality.
Can you tell us about the supper clubs you have hosted to date?
K: SuppHER started out as just me and Anna serving 15 guests at Trove but it instantly grew when women in hospitality offered to help out. The wonderful Maya from Breadflower and incredibly talented Jane Walton volunteered at our second event and then women wanted to collaborate with us from Where The Light Gets In, The Creameries, Flawd, Erst and so many other fabulous restaurants and bars in Manchester. As SuppHER has grown we have managed to maintain the initial ethos; we bring talented women together to create a space where they can shine, whilst raising money and awareness for issues affecting women.
What can people expect from your upcoming International Women’s Day supper club?
A: This will be our first all day event. We’ll be hosting a series of hour long workshops with some of our favourite local creatives. Then in the evening we will be serving a four-course dinner with wine pairings. We’ve put together an incredible line up of chefs in Manchester doing amazing things. They’ll each be doing a course. I’m extremely excited for this menu. Anna Carmichael, Zara Hussain, Caroline Martins and I have put a lot of thought into how we can make this one extra special. And Kim has put together a wine list along with two other talented women in wine, Meg Williams and Emily-Rose Lucas. Well be showcasing some very exciting wines made by some pretty impressive women. All of our profits for this event will go to women’s aid.
Can you tell us about the workshops at your supper clubs as well?
K: At our event for International Women’s Day, we have an afternoon of workshops planned by some of our favourite female creatives in Manchester at the minute. At 11am Hannah Elizabeth Flowers is hosting a wreath making workshop using gorgeous dried flowers, at 1pm Kat Wood is hosting a printing with plants cyanotype workshop, at 2.30pm Meg Beamish is teaching a group to make their own plant pots and at 4.30pm Jo Payne from Platt Fields Market Garden is going to teach her group to save tomato seeds, sow them and grow them.
Hospitality is often presented as a male-dominated industry, but there are many talented women within it, do you think supper clubs such as SuppHer have the power to reset the balance?
A: Our hope is that SuppHER and other women-led projects like this will have an impact on the imbalance in power in our industry. We would love for it to have a ripple effect and that exposure will lead to more women in senior roles in food and wine. Until we have more women leading kitchens and restaurants, the industry continues to be a place of inequality that is built from the male view point which simply isn’t sustainable.
What can we expect next from SuppHER?
Honestly, who knows?! We have more exciting supper clubs in the planning for later in the year and we sell wines for local delivery through our website. We both really just want to keep on supporting women and perhaps we will start taking SuppHER outside of Manchester soon too.
While so far, this column has been used as a space to spotlight and celebrate new books by Northern women, I’m excited to take a slightly different approach in the year ahead. Platforming fresh voices remains an integral part of these reviews, but I’m also interested in sharing some iconic books written over the last century that I think are essential to the Northern literary canon.
This month’s pick marks the first of those: Pat Barker’sBlow Your House Down. Best known for her First World War trilogy, the third instalment of which won the Booker Prize, and more recently her feminist takes on ancient tales, I find this book often slides under the radar. I’ve pushed this into many hands since reading it, and every one of those people loved it, so I decided it was time to give this book its rightful spot in the NRTH LASS library.
Blow Your House Down was published in 1984 and follows the lives of a group of sex workers living in the North of England. Loosely based on the Yorkshire Ripper murders, the story is driven by a killer who roams the streets and targets vulnerable women. Despite the risk of death now associated with their jobs, they have children to feed and rent to pay – life must carry on. Like most sensationalised serial killer sagas, documentation of Peter Sutcliffe’s crimes often focuses on the man himself and the brutality of his murders. While fictional, Barker’s narrative places priority on the victims of such crimes and restores agency to the women impacted by the violence inflicted.
The working-class women in Pat Barker’s books are powerful, tender and complex, and Blow Your House Down is no different. Her intensive use of dialogue captures this brilliantly, crafting conscious and believable conversations between the characters. She incorporates a distinctive Northern dialect without patronisation and creates women worth falling in love with on the page. Written in the midst of Second Wave Feminism, Barker’s novel speaks strongly to the idea that sex work is work, and women who partake in such activity should be viewed no less than any other. During the Ripper investigation, prostitution was vilified by police and the media, and Sutcliffe’s victims were blamed in part for their own death. Blow Your House Down represents the multiplicitous perspectives of women and exposes the bigotry of this narrative.
Despite the grim circumstances faced by the women in this novel, the fierceness of their friendship is undeniable. They are comrades in arms, there for each other at every turn and brought together to fight against a common enemy. The women understand the danger posed to them by a patriarchal society and go to extreme lengths to ensure each other’s survival. This is demonstrated when another woman is savagely murdered by the killer, and her lover embarks on a mission to avenge her death – whatever it takes. The characters in this book fear the worst, but in friendship, they become more powerful than ever.
Above all, Blow Your House Down is a deeply honest representation of what it is to be a woman in a society rife with violent men. It highlights how minority groups are exposed to further risk, how working-class women suffer at the hands of men and how sex workers are blamed when men act out. The impact of this book is immense, and despite being written in the 80s, its social commentary remains more relevant than ever.
If you’re a fan of literary crime narratives with a strong message at their core, you will adore this touching and nerve-wrenching novel. Buy it here to support the indie bookshop community.
Beth Barker is a writer and blogger from Blackpool, and co-host of Up North Books, a podcast celebrating books and writers from the North of England.
Beth wanted to contribute a monthly review to NRTH LASS in order to shine a light on Northern women writing great books. The North is very much underrepresented in publishing and she hopes a monthly review throughout 2021 will showcase the talent Northern women have to offer.
For more book reviews and insights on publishing in the North, follow Beth on Instagram and Twitter.
This week we talk to Manchester-based creatives Laura Frances Heitzman and Foxanne about navigating freelance life, female friendships and working in North.
Laura (L), Foxanne (R)
Lovely to speak with you both, can you tell us a bit about yourselves, what you do and how did you meet?
L: I’m from Manchester, I’m a freelance illustrator, mural artist and designer. I currently work from home, but I’m hoping to get into a really cool studio sometime soon.
F: I’m also from Manchester, I’m an artist, illustrator, designer, just an all round creative gal. I always find it weird to introduce myself, if its creative, I’ll give it a go! I currently work from a studio and my little doggo studio assistant, Luna, comes with me.
L: We met online through Instagram. We slid into each others DM’s!
F: A few weeks after meeting on Instagram, we realised we both lived down the road from each other, such a small world!
Laura’s Feminist Calendar inspired by the people and places of Manchester
The podcast sounds like a great idea, how did you come to the decision to make one?
L: Well, we realised we had so much to talk about. We were always talking in depth about the creative industry as we are both freelance designers, problems we’ve faced and great things that have happened to us. We also had loads in common and talked a lot about our lives and realised we were having a LOT of deep chats, so we thought why not have these conversations on a podcast.
F: We wanted to try something new together and we feel like we could help people who are just starting out in the industry. We’re both very open, sometimes too open haha! With being very present on social media, I’ve gotten used to speaking to an audience on my Instagram stories, but I felt like we had a lot to say so long-form content felt like the next step. I’d wanted to start a podcast for a few years now but after a deep FaceTime chat with Laura we both thought it would be nice to do it together.
What would you like listeners to get out of the podcast?
F: When I’m in the studio by myself I stick podcasts on so I feel like I’m not by myself. Working for yourself can be quite lonely. I find educational podcasts super helpful, but sometimes it can be very info heavy, I struggle with my attention, I can’t casually listen to informational podcasts, I have to actively listen to them. But I wanted to create something that is Laura and I waffling about our lives and our careers with little educational tips that people can subconsciously take in.
L: For me, podcasts help me to feel less alone whilst I’m working at home by myself because being self employed can be really lonely. It would be really lovely to know that we could be that for other people in the same situation. We want to be as honest as possible, and for people to know that they will get full transparency when they listen to the podcast so it can be comforting to know that it isn’t all rosey and we have ups and downs too.
Design by Foxanne
What have been some of the positives and drawbacks of making a podcast?
L: For me, I feel like the biggest drawback is the time it takes to plan, produce and edit etc. Its very time consuming but it’s definitely going to be worth it for sure. I’d say the most positive thing is being able to connect with so many people. We’ve already connected with lots of creatives and business owners, and that list is only going to grow, especially when we get more guests on board.
F: Following on from Laura, the content creation and the planning is very time consuming as we produce, film, plan edit, schedule everything ourselves. Me and Laura are chatting everyday on voice notes about our lives or the podcast. Because we spend so much time together now I really think it has helped our friendship blossom. Crazy to think we only met each other in real life less than a year ago! The positives are definitely meeting so many people through it. The community we are already building through our podcast honestly makes the long nights and frantic FaceTime calls worth it. I couldn’t of chosen a better friend to go on this journey with.
What individual perspectives do you bring to the podcast?
L: We both have different design backgrounds. I studied fashion design at university whereas Foxanne studied contemporary art. I worked in the industry as a designer working for a supplier for two years before going freelance, and Foxanne went straight into freelancing so its great we have those different experiences.
F: Laura creates sassy illustrations of powerful women in fashion, which she then sells products in her shop, whereas I focus more on typography and funky random illustrations and I work with a lot of businesses on their branding, product design, surface pattern design etc. With us both coming from different starting points, Laura with her fashion and me with my painting and contemporary art I think we both give different perspectives. I’ve never worked ‘in industry’ so I find myself invalidating my skill which we’ve found a lot of freelance artists who have never worked in industry feel the same way too. It’s great to have us both share our own views on things.
A design from Laura’s newly launched Feminist Calendar
Outside of that, what are you both currently working on?
L: I’m working on some new products for my shop. I’m also booking in for lots of markets around Manchester too, I want to make sure I have at least one booked every weekend because I love meeting customers and other small business owners, its great to get that social element to the job. I’m working on some t-shirt designs with a new brand that’s soon-to-launch in the next couple of months, I cant wait to share what we’ve been working on soon. I also have a potential mural design in a bakery which is really exciting.
F: I’ve recently shut my online shop after two years to focus on client work. So scary yet so exciting. I’m currently working on my rebrand for my business and I’ve got a few branding projects for clients on the go plus repeat pattern designs for some international clients. I’m also trying to learn how to create art for me again, a big switch up in styles is happening. Its all go go go in the world of Foxanne at the mo!
Both Manchester-based, what are some of your favourite things about the city?
L: Where do I start! I just love it here. It’s a very friendly city, I’d say. Most northern cities are I think. There’s a very arty vibe in Manchester which I love, the street art is incredible. There are loads of really cool independent businesses here. The Northern Quarter is my favourite, there’s so many cool bars, restaurants, coffee shops, vintage shops and boutiques there. I just love it, its amazing.
F: I don’t think I could ever move out of Manchester, when I have days out in different cities by the end of the day I just want to get back here. I love the people, omg the people are so nice! I think Laura has summed it up nicely, there’s something for everyone. There’s so many people from all sorts of walks of life and we all have lobby chats over a nice cold pint of craft beer.
Laura, you recently created illustrated calendar depicting a range of women in different parts of the city, do you find Manchester an inspiring place, creatively speaking?
L: Yes, I feel like every time I walk around town I feel inspired. Like I said earlier, there’s so much street art and there’s so many fabulous people wearing fabulous clothes too, everyone is encouraged to be an individual here. I love the architecture too, which is why I really enjoyed creating the illustrations for the calendar.
How about you Foxanne?
F: Manchester forever inspires me. Manchester celebrates art like no other city (imo). Nothing ever stays the same, I’ve lived here all my life but each time I go into town I always see something new.
Where do you think are some of the best creative places to hang out or work in Manchester?
F: Kiera and Aimie who founded the Feel Good club are amazing. I used to go to the Freelance Fridays they used to host when they had less than 10k followers. What they have built is amazing and if you are in Manchester do go and visit! Everywhere in Manchester is so inclusive and so calming, I suffer with social anxiety but whenever I go anywhere in Manchester I feel like people get it? Myself and Laura have our face-to-face meetings in Sale Foodhall, they always have cool independent food places and they allow doggos. So my little Rescue staffy luna comes along.
What’s next for you both?
L: We actually just released a podcast episode about our goals for 2022. Personally, I want to focus on growing my mural and window art portfolio this year, along with growing my shop and working on a consistent income for myself so I have more stability.
F: I’m really manifesting big things for 2022. This is a big goal of ours but we would love to do a live show of one of our podcasts and have a panel of guests on. How cool would that be????!! Personally, I plan to work with some big brands and add those to my portfolio, I would love to go back to my routes of painting and do some murals, but 2022 is going to be about making money, making friends and building a community we can be proud of.
You can listen, like and subscribe to Laura and Roxanne’s podcast here, and check out their work here and here.
This week we talk to Kohenoor Kamal, a designer and illustrator from the North West on the highs and lows of freelancing, what sparks creativity and her favourite spots for inspiration across the North.
Can I start by asking you a little about yourself, where are you from and what do you do?
Hey Jenna! I’m an illustrator and designer based in the North West of England. I have been freelancing for a few years now and enjoy making bright, colourful works, which are influenced by my passion for colour, texture and detail.
I grew up in a Bangladeshi household surrounded by delicious Bengali food as well as the beautiful culture that comes with it. I think a lot of this has had huge influence on my work, from the intricate and detailed clothes my family wear to the food that my dad (a chef) cooks.
Growing up with a traditional Asian background as a first generation Bengali meant that I grew up with a lot of pressure and expectation of what kind of career I should have been looking at. The kind of person that I am always wanted to reject these expectations and pursue my own path of working in the creative industry.
I had many battles with my family about them supporting me on this journey and I think they found it quite difficult to accept that I wanted to pursue this venture as they are from a working class background and their main focus was to make ends meet. I think since then I have been very fortunate that they have been able to witness my passion for creating art and the work that I have been able to get off the back of this, which I am grateful for.
When did you decide that you wanted to be a designer and illustrator?
I have always been a creative person, but it was only when I went to university that I felt like I could use that creativity and work within the creative field. The good thing about the university that I went to was that I was able to explore different specialisms outside of design, some of those things included animation, illustration, photography and art direction.
At university I felt like I had the tools and knowledge on how I could pursue working as a designer and illustrator. Even though I had trained and studied within the realm of graphic design, I always had an interest in subjects outside of this, especially illustration. I would go on to embedding this into projects using my knowledge of design principles and experimenting with how I could play around with this hybrid of specialisms and use creative problem solving to answer briefs and produce artwork.
My course emphasised the integration of the contextual nature behind projects and this framework helped form the decisions behind my work, such as thinking about how I can make a meaningful impact with a design with the consideration of aesthetics too. In the past, I would make pieces of work that were visually appealing, but I think this extra consideration has helped me make more meaningful pieces of work.
How did you go about getting into the creative industries?
I think the key thing for me was integrating myself into the creative scene, particularly going to events (even virtual ones) and talking to different people. I used to find this nerve wracking, so to help me get out of my comfort zone I asked a friend if they would want to attend events with me to make things a little less anxiety inducing.
Social media has played a huge part in where I am now and the kind of work that I have been able to get. Whether that’s posting new work on Instagram or connecting with different pages that promote people’s work or creative resources where I have shared my own personal experiences on how I got into the industry.
How would you define your design style?
My design style is a combination of things , I like to embed texture into my work wherever I can as well as using bright and engaging colours. I have also incorporated illustrative features into my work to resonate with my differing creative qualities that I enjoy working on and combining all of these lovely things.
What projects are you working on at the moment?
At the moment, I’m working on a number of projects whilst I have the availability. Last year, I was juggling a number of projects, which was really exciting but also quite time consuming so I am now focusing on developing and experimenting with illustrations of food, portraits and animation.
I have a project that I did early on in the year with Root-ED and I was able to exhibit some of these food illustrations. Here, I illustrated an array of key ingredients featured in recipes which people had contributed to them. After doing this project I played around with more of this in my spare time, such as illustrating a recipe card of my own, which includes the ingredients to a special recipe of mine which my parents had taught me.
Animation has also been something that I have been playing around more with since working with Leeds Inspired to help them produce Call to Action artwork for their grants and website. There is something very fun about working out the logistics behind simple graphics and figuring out how to make something move fluidly.
What have been some of the career high and lows so far?
I am proud of the fact that I have been able to establish a career in an industry which can be quite cut throat especially having had obstacles in my way and out of my control, such as finishing my degree throughout the first lockdown and graduating into a pandemic, which left me and many of my peers with so much anxiety and uncertainty about whether we would be able to pursue this.
I’ve also been able to transition from one industry to another as well as be able to go back and forth between the two. With illustration and design, for a good amount of time I didn’t think I’d be able to pursue any illustration-based work but I think this was more about my lack of self-esteem. With time I’ve started trusting my process and seeing the engagement that I’ve received has proved that I can do both.
Something that I didn’t expect from working as a freelancer, is how much work can fluctuate from one extreme to another and managing my own expectations and setting boundaries. It can make me quite anxious when there are periods where it’s very quiet because it feels as though I won’t pick up any more work, but something that I’ve learnt is to look at this in a more positive light and utilise this time by working on more personal projects and refining my skills.
Also, I didn’t expect how reliant I would be on social media for getting new clients and also putting myself out there. It can be a double edged sword using social media as a freelancer and in your spare time, as well as the blurred lines between being on Instagram all the time and checking how much engagement you might get on a post or stories. I think it can become quite consuming when you fall into that state and I know that many people, myself included, still feel this way. But, I’m still thankful for having access to things like Instagram and Twitter where, even though I don’t have that many followers, I’ve been able to find so many more creative friends who are dotted all over the place.
I think another aspect I’m really quite proud of is the fact that I’ve been able to transition from one creative industry to another as although I studied a graphic design union, I actually wanted to study illustration but I wasn’t able to get onto this course at my university so I made use of what things I could learn on my course and then carried this through to what I was actually passionate about and I ended up creating this sort of hybrid of illustration work, which has subtle tones of design principles behind it and I think that’s what makes my work stand out. I’ve always found it tough to pinpoint myself because I have this multidisciplinary practice, which is inspired by so many different creative fields and it’s hard to say oh yes I’m this one particular thing but I think that’s just the nature of creativity.
What inspires you as a designer?
I feel like at the moment I am fluctuating between lots of different things I would love to work on or people I would like to work with. I have always admired the work of Studio Moross and I have been following the work of Aries Moross since I was in college. I love their use of experimental components using colour and texture. As well as this I love the work of Sha’an d’Anthes. The friends that I have made over the course of this journey have also played a large part into what I’m inspired by as the work they do motivates me to see the kinds of things that they are getting up to.
What would be your ideal project to work on?
My ideal project at the moment would be to work with more musicians. Whether that’s in the capacity of producing albums or single artwork or being able to work on print-based ephemera, as I have always had a passion for tactile things such as screen printing and making things with my hands. I think something that I’ve found since making the transition to making more work digitally, using programs such as Procreate, is that I don’t use many handmade processes anymore but this used to be something that was the key focus behind my work.
Could you tell us a bit more about the poster you created for In Good Company Leeds’ poster campaign?
Being able to work with Laura Wellington, my good friend George Brown and Kate Phipps on producing this poster design, as well as being able to see it large-scale plastered all over the UK to celebrate key workers — this poster design was probably one of the most exciting projects that I worked on last year.
I wanted to highlight some of these key workers and I illustrated a few people from mine and George’s family who are key workers. For example, I included a small illustration of my mum into this project and as a nod to many key workers who have worked really hard throughout the pandemic. In the design I wanted to portray a sense of empowerment and feeling proud that these people have worked really hard, and all sorts of colours are used to make it eye-catching so it could be visible in a variety of environments. I’ve actually had nurses, paramedics and teachers get in touch saying thank you for being part of the design.
At the time, George and I had just graduated from the same course and while both of us are very passionate about the work that we do, we were finding it hard to land design roles and jobs because of the uncertainty during the pandemic, so we were really grateful to have this opportunity to work with Laura and to make this poster design because it’s not often you get to go straight from university to having your work displayed on a mass scale, whilst also raising money for a good cause.
How has the North shaped you both personally and professionally?
I think the people have definitely had a huge influence over who I am today. I have met so many wonderful creative people in all kinds of industries and being able to learn about different people’s perspectives has only helped me become more open minded as a person as well being there to push me when I’ve needed it to pursue a project that I’ve wanted to do and put off.
As well as this, going to university in Leeds where there is an amazing network of creative people as well as the city in itself. I regularly go to exhibitions and meet up with creatives who are based there. Leeds has been the apex for a lot of things for me and I consider it a second home for me just as it has allowed me to find the confidence I needed to push the boundaries of what I could make and beyond.
Where are some of your favourite places in the North?
There’s too many to count but some of my favourite things to do in the North include popping into local independents to do some work and also catching some downtime with friends. Some of my favourite restaurants in the North can include Bundobust, Cafe 164 and Rudy’s Pizza as well as galleries such as The Whitworth and Yorkshire Sculpture Park, where I go to get inspiration for new work.
What do you like to do outside of work?
This is a tough one as a lot of the things I love doing surround creativity in some form or another. I think my favourite thing is to go exploring or to see friends. Working as a freelancer, I find that often I’m either swamped with work or I have much quieter periods, so I like to use the most of my time to catch up with friends and go to galleries, cinemas and restaurants. I also enjoy cooking when I can. I grew up with Bengali food with my dad being a chef and I think that’s where I get my love for food from, I find it the most soothing thing to do when I feel stressed.
In the autumn of 2021, the latest Sarah Moss arrived on the shelves of bookshops all over the country. While The Fell is much like any of her previous novels – suspenseful, meditative and intelligent – it feels entirely unique. Set in 2020, this is the first book I’ve read that directly tackles the enduring pandemic and its impact on life as we once knew it. Spoiler alert: it’s an absolute literary masterpiece.
The Fell is polyphonic, and while it’s narrated in third-person, it very much captures the inner thoughts of the novel’s key characters. Kate is the instigator of the story – a middle-aged woman who can no longer bear the two-week quarantine she has been placed under. While her son Matt plays his console upstairs, she slips out into the evening dusk for a quick solitary walk, something she has always done. Her neighbour Alice sees her leave, but against the advice of the home secretary during a time of suspicion and hostility, she says nothing. Despite hoping that no one will ever find out about her momentary escape into the great outdoors, Kate soon comes into trouble and incites an entire rescue operation.
Under any other circumstances, a plot like this might sound wholly mundane and even a little boring. But that really is the beauty of it. Amidst lockdown after lockdown, the most ordinary activities became a major event. One of my favourite things about The Fell is how Moss captures the intensity of isolation, crafting stream of consciousness narrations that, much like the experiences themselves, are pretty unbearable to read.
“Dust we are and to dust we shall return, well get on with it then, wouldn’t it be better sometimes just to do the returning than spend your life cowering away, weeks and months ticking by like this, not as if there weren’t epidemics then too, the original inhabitants, but they got on with it, didn’t they, people died and they were sad but they didn’t wall themselves up, they didn’t stop educating the children and forbid music, the living were allowed to live if you can call it that, Victorian mining, not that they lived long but maybe length isn’t how you want to measure it.”
Through characters like Kate and Alice, her elderly neighbour, Moss intelligently explores the varying nuances of experience during the pandemic. Their perspectives are multiplicitous. They understand the need for a lockdown and masks and social distancing, but they’re still frustrated by it. They know why regulations are in place, but they still criticise the messaging used by lawmakers and the media.
That was one aspect of the novel which I particularly enjoyed. Moss’ reflections on the language of the pandemic, phrases like ‘social distancing’ picked apart for their nonsensical nature. Looking back at the book now, especially since hearing the revelations of Downing Street ‘work events’, her characters’ critique of certain rules hits hard. The author exposes the stupidity of bans on walking, mentioning how the police flew drones and spent countless hours chasing people back indoors with the threat of fines or arrests. The Peak District setting makes the plot particularly poignant – these characters have an affinity with the natural world, and their lives completely change when that’s taken away from them.
As well as exploring one community’s experience of pandemic life, The Fell also celebrates the camaraderie, friendship and compassion witnessed throughout. As much as it is a criticism of transient rules and our desperation to break them, it is also a testament to the relationships that pulled us through. Neighbours support each other, both practically and emotionally, and even during their worst moments, the community pulls together for survival.
Sarah Moss is a champion of a writer. If you loved the dark and powerful narratives of Ghost Wall and Summerwater, you’re bound to enjoy the latest in her unmissable lineup.
The Fell was published by Picador in 2021, and you can purchase it here.
Words: Beth Barker
Beth Barker is a writer and blogger from Blackpool, now working in Manchester. She also co-hosts Up North Books, a podcast celebrating books and writers from the North of England.
Beth wanted to contribute a monthly review to NRTH LASS in order to shine a light on Northern women writing great books. The North is very much underrepresented in publishing and she hopes a monthly review throughout 2021 will showcase the talent Northern women have to offer.
For more book reviews and insights on publishing in the North, follow Beth on Instagram and Twitter.
2021 was an incredible year of publishing for women. From the Northern writers making their mark on the Women’s Prize Futures Award to the authors dominating 2021’s Portico Prize Shortlist, there’s no doubting the talent that continues to emerge from our region.
Creating a list like this isn’t always the easiest task. While Northern women are still drastically underrepresented in literary publishing, narrowing our selection down to such a small number this time was the most challenging part.
We’ll continue to share the latest publications throughout the coming months, but for now, here are 10 books by northern women to read in 2022.
From the author of prize-winning Saltwater comes Milk Teeth, one of our most anticipated books of 2022. A story about love, identity and sensuality, Andrews’ next novel feels like the natural progression from her debut. Centred around a young woman from the North of England, Milk Teeth is set to be another powerful tale about taking up space, navigating the world and the people we meet along the way.
If you’re into literary biographies, cultish creativity and the world of alternative music, you’re going to love Ten Thousand Apologies. Co-written by singer Lias Saoudi and the acclaimed Yorkshire-based author Adelle Stripe, the book offers an in-depth exploration of the UK’s most notorious cult band – Fat White Family. Promising lucidity, humour and a definitive account of the era, this seems to be a must-read for music enthusiasts and culture fiends alike.
For avid non-fiction readers comes a disruptive, powerful and influential read from Bradford-born writer Suhaiymah Manzoor-Khan: Tangled in Terror. In a bid to unpack the intrinsic narratives of Islamophobia from our history, society and daily lives, the book shows that until the most marginalised Muslims are safe, nobody is safe. If you’re passionate about current affairs, political meditations and looking past the surface level story, this is definitely one for your reading list.
January marks the publication of the long-anticipated debut from writer Lauren Brown. Hands, a memoir that offers ‘an anxious mind unpicked’, explores a whole host of themes alongside a central desire to uncover the roots of compulsive skin-picking. In the process, the book’s weaving narratives take readers on a journey through a young woman’s life, presenting joy, healing and a love song to the North.
Fitzcarraldo Editions are constantly serving up fresh and thought-provoking literature for their readership to enjoy, and 2022 is no different. York-based Daisy Hildyard’s Emergencyarrives in April, a novel about the dissolving boundaries between all life on earth. Stuck at home alone under lockdown, a woman recounts her 1990s childhood in rural Yorkshire. Dubbed as a reinvention of the pastoral novel for the climate change era, this one is undoubtedly topping our TBRs.
When Danielle Jawando’s powerful And the Stars Were Burning Brightly was published in 2020, it took the YA book world by storm. This year marks the arrival of her next novel, a powerful coming-of-age story about chance encounters, injustice and how the choices we make can completely change our future. When Our Worlds Collided explores the deep-rooted prejudice that exists within the police, media and our society today.
From the prize-winning author of the inimitable Treats and Supper Club comes The Odyssey, a book that promises a satire of modern life. Lara Williams’ latest novel follows Ingrid, a luxury cruise ship worker who is selected for the employee mentorship scheme that pushes her further than she thought possible. Exploring themes of class, consumer capitalism and unexpected voyages, this book is certainly set to cause a stir this spring.
Lovers of crime, take note: Manchester-based Stephanie Sowden’s debut is on its way. Set in modern America, this suspenseful story centres on Reeta Doe, who wakes up in hospital to be told she is responsible for the brutal murder of two women. She cannot answer the FBI’s questions – her only hope is Carol, a journalist who must follow the trail of devastation Reeta left in her wake. If you can’t get enough of a thriller, After Everything You Did is definitely one for the list.
Pragya Agarwal’s non-fiction work is some of the best there is, especially if you appreciate well-researched, fact-driven mediations alongside personal reflections. After the success of (M)otherhood: On the Choices of Being a Woman in 2021, this year offers Hysterical: The Gendered Nature of Emotions. Casting her astute gaze to another angle of feminist thought, the behavioural scientist sets out to chart how emotions really came to be so gendered.
After the storm of a debut that was Ariadne comes Jennifer Saint’s next mythological rewriting, this time bringing the tragic heroine Elektra to life. While focusing on the origins of the Trojan War and the dreadful curse blighting the House of Atreus, Saint is set to take readers on another female-dominated Greek adventure. If you enjoy the likes of Madeleine Millar, Pat Barker and Natalie Haynes, you’ll want to add this one to your 2022 stack.
Beth Barker is a writer and blogger from Blackpool, now working in Manchester. She also co-hosts Up North Books, a podcast celebrating books and writers from the North of England.
Beth wanted to contribute a monthly review to NRTH LASS in order to shine a light on Northern women writing great books. The North is very much underrepresented in publishing and she hopes a monthly review throughout 2021 will showcase the talent Northern women have to offer.
For more book reviews and insights on publishing in the North, follow Beth on Instagram and Twitter.
There is a distinct comfort in knowing that certain people are still around. A reassurance in knowing that there are people out there who see the world in ways that seem familiar to oneself. A relief that there are those who are able to put into words those things that at the time you are not capable of doing. When we lose these people, known intimately to us or not, then we are left with a certain empty feeling; not simply as a result of the physical yet metaphorical ‘hole’ they leave behind, but also the emptiness of knowing that we are losing a certain viewpoint on the world, one which we found to be sound, wise and safe.
I am reliably informed that a request to write this piece arrived shortly after the news broke, during which time I had received several messages from friends, enquiring as to my wellbeing and sending me love. Due to my complete ignorance of the current facts this was strange, but it being the 23rd December, a welcome addition to the festive period. Six days have since elapsed in which several paragraphs have been discarded after numerous failed reworks; my only success coming in the form of a few (potentially) throwaway sentences. Instead, on this, the sixth day, I have reread two collections of essays; Slouching Towards Bethlehemand The White Album, in the full knowledge that it is only once I feel comforted that I will be able to find my own words.
*
Several times over the past week I have been posed with one striking question: How does one go about writing a tribute to someone who is so immortal? Although I will gladly take any opportunity to crowbar the name ‘Joan Didion’ into any conversation, I have been consistently struck these past seven days with the futility that lies in trying to write about her life. She did it for us. If you require an obituary, read Where I Was From. Social critique: Slouching Towards Bethlehem. Intimate glances into the author’s psyche: The White Album. Advice on how to grieve such a loss: The Year of Magical Thinking. When talking to a friend yesterday there were three words I returned to over and over and over again: she’s eulogised herself.
I am unable to tell you anything about Joan Didion that Joan Didion has not already told us. It is impossible to write a legacy without simply using her own words. I do not mean that the odd quote here and there is useful in understanding her life, rather I mean it quite literally. Everything she wrote is so well crafted, so intimate, so personal and so subtly powerful that it would be wasteful of me to attempt anything new. Her legacy is a unique one, in that it is she who lays the most claim to it.
Five years ago, I experienced a grief so intense I felt I had lost my personality. I knew there were many things I had just lost in the space of three days, perhaps most importantly to me, a unique viewpoint on the world. Upon my uncle’s death there were certain people who wrote about his life, his work, whatever legacy it was he had left behind and I hated it. I do not remember much from those first few weeks and did not put pen to paper aside from once; in the haze of my memories I distinctly remember writing down how strange it is that when one dies we no longer have control over who we are. How it is so easy to be interpreted, reimagined and redefined. This scared me. The only thing I wanted was for him to be able to speak for himself. To lay claim to his own legacy. To fashion his own eulogy.
Joan Didion taught me about grief. The Year of Magical Thinking was avoided for as long as I still had other Didion to read. There was something within my being that knew that once I began her account on how to navigate unimaginable loss, the one I had felt would have some more finality. I knew that through the reading I would be moving closer to some kind of acceptance. It took me three years but it made me feel sane. I was acutely struck by the moment in which she is urged to remove John’s clothes and shoes, a task she logically understands but is unable to comprehend and therefore do. What will he do when he comes back, she wonders, as upon his return he will most certainly need both his clothes and his shoes. When you know exactly how this madness feels, someone writing it down and having the courage to publish makes you feel the sanest person in the world.
*
It was my closest school friend who introduced me to Joan. (Not personally, although it’s often felt that way.) As I’ve shared before, he had taken a work-related trip to the States and returned with an edition of Slouching Towards Bethlehem, which he promptly leant to me uttering the words, “you’re a woman who can’t help but include herself in her writing, you’ll like her.” At the risk of cliche, our first encounter was transformative. I didn’t simply like Joan Didion, as my friend had suggested, I was completely enamoured.
The first words I ever read of Joan Didion’s attributed suicide, divorce and prickly dread to the Santa Ana winds. She said they worked on the nerves, disrupted your breathing and helped hillsides to spontaneously combust. We are being told this as a prelude to a story about Lucille Miller, a thirty-four year old woman who was tried and convicted of murdering her husband on Banyan Street in the middle of the night via their 1964 Volkswagen. This is extraordinary journalism and even in my ignorance, with that first paragraph I was able to see that for her, place matters. It influences everything; lives, language, loves. It determines our attitudes and our destinies. It soothes us or it works on the nerves. It shapes our identities. It is not a mere backdrop for the players on this stage, rather a character within its own right, an integral part of the action, a plot device waiting to pounce.
Time and time again Joan’s own words have been used to describe her: a place belongs to the person who claims it the hardest. Although she is using this in relation to James Jones and how for her, he lays claim to Hawaii, the words unsurprisingly are the only ones that can do justice to what she was to California. I have never been to California, but in the California of my mind’s eye it is Joan Didion’s. It is sun-kissed, sixties hedonism and it is the Manson Family Murders. It is Jim Morrison arriving late, or not at all, to record with the Doors. It is San Francisco, Los Angeles, Sacramento and inevitable wildfires. It is a land where rain is a mystery, water a fascination, rattlesnakes a certainty. It is endless highways, the Pacific Ocean, car travel and the Beverly Hills Hotel. It is synthetic light, migraines, dinner parties and endless absurdities. It is one Pan Am flight from Honolulu and it is the final frontier. It is now, thanks to Joan Didion, one of my greatest obsessions. A mystery so intimate to me I wonder if I ever need go.
*
For days I have been attempting to vocalise how Joan’s writing actually makes me feel. I have come up with nothing aside from feelings of being overwhelmed. I am always overwhelmed by emotion, neither sad nor happy. As I write I come to realise that she encapsulates a certain melancholy; a word that for me evokes feelings of desolation, emptiness and heartache alongside a certain comfort or reassurance.
I have turned to Joan’s writing for consolation many times over the past two years. More frequently than not, the center has not been holding. I have turned to Joan as her work reminds me that there is a universality in chaos, in dread, in the impending sense of the end of the world. Generation after generation has stood on the precipice of the world collapsing in on itself and remarkably, every time, it does not.
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There is much uniqueness in Joan Didion’s writing but there are two things I find particularly striking. The first is her ability to explore some of the most mundane things with such intricacy that they become the most exciting and enchanting things in the world. The essays Holy Water and Bureaucrats are excellent examples of this. In one, she visits the Operations Control Center for the California State Water Project and in another Caltrans, the California Department of Transportation’s Operation Center. Neither of these are particularly exciting places yet as Didion notes the minutiae in their workings and how her own thoughts and feelings interact with these places they become sensational. I knew when I was gripped to an essay on ‘the 42 mile loop’ that I was reading a writer like no other.
The second is her capacity to include so much intricacy in the sensational that they in turn become mundane. As in Some Dreamers of the Golden Dream, (the story chronicling Lucille Miller and the death of her husband) where we are told that after Miller has given birth following her incarceration her elder daughter came to take the new baby home in a white dress with pink ribbons. We are consistently brought back down to earth. Told something suddenly, in an often offhand manner, that changes the whole feeling. This could happen to you. This could happen to anyone. One day you sit down to dinner, and life as you know it ends.
*
Reading Joan Didion did not make me want to become a writer. Reading Joan Didion assured me that I am a writer and taught me why. Why I Write is one of the most sensible things I have ever read. Why I Write taught me to unlearn everything I thought I knew about grammar. Told me to treat each sentence as if it were a melody, adding the rests and the short notes wherever I felt they should be. She taught me that writing is an art form, and that whenever I shift the structure of a sentence, I change it in the same dramatic manner as taking a photograph from an entirely different angle. She spoke to us often of her own doubts and reassured us that everyone has the feeling that they are sometimes simply passing as the person they think they are or would like to be.
In the preface to Slouching Towards Bethlehem Didion claims that there is one thing we always need to remember: ‘writers are always selling someone out.’ I reread this yesterday and, as always, was amused until I began to wonder who is it I am selling out by writing this piece. I still don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if it’s Joan, I’m selling out what she actually meant, what her true point was through some well-meant misinterpretation. I am, however, more inclined to believe that in this instance the person really being sold out is myself. Never will my (currently unfinished) novel land in the aged yet eccentrically expressive hands of the remarkable Ms Didion. Never will I be able to express to her how it was she who helped me make sense of my burning desire to work things out through the written word; that need to grasp a permeance in the midst of chaos.
Maybe I am selling myself out through what I now feel has become some kind of intellectual love letter to a woman born generations before myself, on the other side of the world, in a place I have never been, with whom I feel I have such a strong connection purely due to her exceptional command of the written word. Joan Didion taught me that there is a place in fact for women’s voices and that there is a place in journalism for the personal essay. Order can be found in the deepest disorder. Life is always there, even in the midst of grief. Nothing objective is interesting.
Remember what it was to be me: that is always the point.
Joan Didion
1934-2021
Saffron Rain lives and writes in Stockport. She was born and raised around Manchester, only moving away to get her degree and subsequent MA in English Lit in Sheffield. During this time she wrote ardently on the North, particularly female writers and filmmakers.
Her preferred form is the personal essay and she enjoys writing about topics that she connects to on a personal level. Some of these have appeared in independent publications and she shares longer pieces on her own blog. She loves to read, particularly women, and will take any opportunity to crowbar Joan Didion into a conversation.
Beth Barker’s final book review for 2021 comes in the form of Abundance: Nature in Recovery, a collection of literary essays by Karen Lloyd, a writer from the Lake District in the North of England.
As we entered the autumn season, the shelves of bookshops were flooded with fresh literary talent. One book that stood out was Abundance: Nature in Recovery, a collection of literary essays by Karen Lloyd. With the climate crisis becoming increasingly urgent, the publication of this book felt particularly important and necessary.
Abundance is a work of art in which the literary and natural worlds collide. For many, nature writing can be overwhelming, but Lloyd’s writing is refreshingly accessible. The book’s purpose is to explore abundance and loss, in part concerning itself with the damage done to our environment. Lloyd writes:
“When I turn on the news or read a newspaper, I am assailed by all the losses in the natural world. The natural world is being flushed out.”
The book opens with a bold question: what kind of future will our children and grandchildren have on this planet? The reader gets the feeling that in this book, we’re going to find out. Throughout several essays, signifiers of change are explored, from the toxic algal blooms in the Lake District National Park to the ferocious Storm Desmond and floods that ensued. While these events and occurrences draw our attention to the ever-pressing ecological crisis, causing us to dwell on them is not the author’s intention.
“Something in my neural pathways blocks me when I try (admittedly not very hard) to imagine what things will be like for my boys – for my two young adult sons – and for their one-day families. Will they have families? Is it OK to continue having families?”
Abundance, I believe, is a book partly about hope and partly about seeing things in a new light. Told through joyous narratives that weave between well-researched facts and personal experiences, Lloyd’s essays provide a manifesto for change. She believes the solution to our problem is to reconnect with and repair our relationship to the earth – to encourage the alignment of humans and the natural world. As well as documenting the disasters we face, Lloyd also draws our attention to the incredible work done by conservationists and calls for education reforms to make natural education a priority.
Among other things, Lloyd’s work exudes a pure love for nature and what it has to offer us as individuals, communities and as an entire species. Whether it’s wolves, whopper swans, damselflies or beavers, these essays are full of passionate explorations of the world around us. Wild swimming and woodland hikes remind us that there is so much beauty to enjoy outside of our echo chamber – seeing it might just change our perspective entirely. “Let’s seed the idea of return through the seeding of languages that wander through the world. If we want it, all we need to do is imagine it into being: 3… 2… 1… go. Hearts and minds. What you don’t love, you can’t save. Save what you love.”
Karen Lloyd is a writer and environmental activist from the Lake District. Abundance: Nature in Recovery was published in September by Bloomsbury. You can purchase it here.
Words: Beth Barker
Beth Barker is a writer and blogger from Blackpool. She is the co-host of Up North Books, a podcast celebrating books and writers from the North of England.
Beth wanted to contribute a monthly review to NRTH LASS in order to shine a light on Northern women writing great books. The North is very much underrepresented in publishing and she hopes a monthly review throughout 2021 will showcase the talent Northern women have to offer.
For more book reviews and insights on publishing in the North, follow Beth on Instagram and Twitter.
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