First, thanks to NetGalley and publisher Farrar, Straus, and Giroux for the chance to read this book. 

This is definitely a story that needs to be told, BUT, it should come with some strong trigger warnings. Rape, abuse, drug use, child neglect, are all present and some in pretty vivid detail. This book is grim. Unrelentingly sad and just grim. BUT, the little sparkles of light here and there keep it from being too depressing.

This is the story of Marina, a girl being raised by an unprepared and self-absorbed single mother; of Alex, an unwanted baby who was severely abused as a toddler/child, and Willie, a boy who is abused and teased and has some diminished capacity. All these situations collide with huge force and tragic results. I could hardly stand to read about one more abuse. However, the friendship between Alex and Marina was such a bright spot, such an important event for both of them and I liked the way that was treated.

I did appreciate the tool of using the Filipino folklore of an avenging aswang who has been attached to Marina's family for generations, sort of an avenging angel. That technique allowed the aswang to view Marina's life as looking into her memory, so it put a step of removal between her and the reader (but it still was a harsh life). The goal of the aswang is to complete the main driving goal of the life it moves into - determining what that is  becomes very important....and thus the view of Marina's past and intentions.

While I am aware that this kind of harsh life is suffered by many, this gritty story really brought all the heartache and sadness and depression to the top. I can't say it was an enjoyable read, but it was illuminating.

I made a mistake when I first picked up this book, and that was deciding I could read it while absolutely exhausted and waiting for the women’s Australian Open final to finally start (go, Ash Barty!). I decided I was being unfair to the story — this sounded exactly like the kind of book I’d love and deserved more than a half-awake reader — so I decided to give the book another go the next day with a fresh start. And I’m so, so glad I did, because this was a tremendous read. It’s a slow book that needs to be savored, not a book you can power through while your eyelids are demanding to close and your brain feels a bit fuzzy. 

 

The storyline in this book is brilliant; threads are woven together elegantly. And all the (heartbreaking) happenings are talked about unflinchingly. It’s not an easy book to read, but it’s not meant to be. The topics covered here are hard, but they’re real. And the whisper of mythology in the background adds to a haunting sense — both by the aswang, a creature from Filipino folklore, and what’s happening to the characters inside these pages. Everything is rough and vulgar and falling apart, but it’s written about in such beautiful fashion, which almost makes what’s happening worse. It creates intricacies to the mundane. 

 

As much as I was able to really get into the book, it still took me a little time to do so on my second start. Once I was about 15 percent of the way through, I found a rhythm, and some of the issues I was having with the writing no longer bothered me. In general, I think I had a love-hate relationship with some of the writing. (Well, maybe more like love-dislike.) There were times I was left stunned by Melissa Chadburn’s writing — its musicality, its boldness, its almost onomatopoeia-like energy — but there were other times I felt like I could skip two pages of prose and not really miss much of the story. Some brilliant writing felt bogged down by six other very good lines, which lessened some of the impact for me. It feels weird to say a book was overwrought with beautiful language and imagery, but this occasionally felt like the case. 

 

This book is jam-packed with heart and longing, and the languid and descriptive writing does well to create an atmosphere that matches the plot. There’s an interesting sense of timelessness, which makes it clear that this book could really be written at any point in our history. These struggles are human and are happening all around us — and they’ll continue to do so with the broken societal structures in place. This is a heart-rending tale of life and all its ugliness, but it’s also a beautiful story of family and humanity. 

 

Special thanks to NetGalley; Farrar, Straus and Giroux; and Melissa Chadburn for proving me with an ARC of this book in exchange for my honest review.