Such a contrast to Mary Costello's Academy Street. This too is about a woman struggling with her sense of difference and alienation, her struggles to cope. She retreats to her deceased grandmother's rural home. Baume's depiction of the turmoil of this young artist is compellingly real and I became immersed in her emotional journey as she tries to find meaning in her existence amongst the natural world.

This time I finished a novel by Sara Baume, which sounds like I deserve a pat on the back, as if I’ve taken a bullet so none of you need read A Line Made By Walking, but in actuality is an indication of how much I loved this novel. It’s so good I’m even half compelled to give her debut another crack.

While it took me nearly five days to finish A Line Made By Walking – a long time, at least for me, for a 300-page book – that’s not because I found it a chore. Rather I was sick for a couple of days and this isn’t the sort of novel you can read while your thoughts are centred on your bowel movements (not that any of you needed to know that). The point is, I was never not fully engaged in Frankie’s daily communion with her thoughts. If it isn’t already clear from my carefully slap-dashed observations above Frankie is someone who thinks a great deal, about art, about the world, about her own mental health. This is a novel that belies plot for a narrative that evokes isolation and loneliness and the struggle to express yourself when your musings are a mix of sharply observed truths about the world – Frankie’s insights are very quotable – and a confused mess of paranoia and insecurity. In amongst all this, and the real highlight of the book, are Frankie’s many references to artworks mostly installations that (a) were educational – I googled a bunch of them – and (b) acted as a calming influence on Frankie, focussing her on the now. I could probably make a banal and obvious statement about art and mental health and how the two are linked but I think Sara Baume does that fine enough.

You should certainly read this wonderful, articulate, eclectic and intimate novel. I won’t be forgetting Frankie in a hurry.

Clearly very thoughtfully and artistically crafted, but also depressing and not an enjoyable read. I finished it, but am not sure if I would recommend it. It is, at the end of the day, a novel about depression, and a very well written one.

I have been trying to decide what to write about this book, I loved it so much. I found myself relating to (the main character) Frankie more often than not. I underlined and marked so many different passages. I found myself chuckling out loud on multiple occasions. Sara Baume's style of writing is beautiful and so witty, even though most often she is describing her struggle with depression. And how appropriate it was that I started reading this on the first anniversary of my grandmother's passing, as my family is trying to sell her home (which is partially the premise of this story).
I found myself realizing that not much happens in this book, not much action or suspense, but that was not at all a bad thing. The story still moves along quite well, I didn't want to put it down. I also didn't want it to end, so I put off reading the last chapter. Word of advise - I found that the narrator often references points shared earlier in the story, which told me I really needed to pay attention to really get it all.
Her references to works of art throughout the book was also wonderful. I felt like I was back in my college art classes, and I felt it really added to the story. If you appreciate art, I think you'll appreciate this aspect of the book.
And the nature writing! Though some a bit sad, I enjoyed how she wove "her wilderness" into the story, her descriptions.
I would definitely recommend this book to others. I have several friends in mind to share it with!

Eerily reflects my life-long struggle with depression. Highly recommend!

We need to talk about how good this book is. I don’t know what’s going on over there but young Irish writers are blowing my mind.

This book is like someone cracked open my head on a bad day and tipped out all my anxious thoughts. Very well-written and apt, but not always easy to read.

A miserable book, with bright spots of blandness. The writing is fine, but not beautiful. I don’t empathize with the character, but maybe reading her will germinate understanding of someone else. I am interested in the character’s mother. She might have been worth reading. If you like art, you might be interested in the character’s memories and connections of art works. If you are already skeptical of art (especially performance art that seems self-serving), those parts of the book will make things worse.

No plot. I was interestingly compelled to continue reading to see if things got better.