Book Review: "The Bass Rock" by Evie Wyld
“The Bass Rock” by Evie Wyld
Synopsis: The lives of three women weave together across centuries in this dazzling new novel.
Sarah, accused of being a witch, is fleeing for her life.
Ruth, in the aftermath of World War II, is navigating a new marriage and the strange waters of the local community.
Six decades later, Viv, still mourning the death of her father, is cataloging Ruth's belongings in Ruth's now-empty house.
As each woman's story unfolds, it becomes increasingly clear that their choices are circumscribed, in ways big and small, by the men who seek to control them. But in sisterhood there is also the possibility of survival and a new way of life. Intricately crafted and compulsively readable, The Bass Rock burns bright with love and fury--a devastating indictment of violence against women and an empowering portrait of their resilience through the ages.
Rating (out of 5): 4.5
Review: From the reviews of this book, I was unsure if I’d be drawn to the structure—I don’t always love multiple narrators. In fact, despite having significantly less interest in one of the narratives, I found this book so entirely absorbing that I sat in a tepid bathtub for two hours finishing it this weekend: I simply forgot to keep filling the tub with hot water.
Be forewarned coming in that the plot is dark, and centers on violence of all kinds perpetrated against women. One of the narratives has a gaslighting subplot that filled me with rage. It’s been noted elsewhere that from a less talented author, the relentless violence could be unbearable. Wyld manages to alternate the brutality with gorgeous prose and humor.
The Scottish countryside is the perfect setting for this book, with its foreboding atmosphere. The contemporary narrative has Viv clearing out and cataloguing her late grandmother’s home, encountering the literal and figurative ghosts of her family’s past. Viv is a Fleabag-esque mess: often falling apart, but also charming and redeeming.
Her grandmother Ruth’s chapters, set 70 years prior, unspool a complicated family history full of repression and secrets—a newcomer to both a family, and a town, that are less than welcoming.
The third narrative, a young woman on the run from being persecuted as a witch, are much more brief interludes, but are particularly brutal and as I said, couldn’t hold my interest in the same way.
The writing is truly masterful, allowing the reader to slowly stitch together how the three narratives intertwine: answering some questions but leaving others partially obscured. While far from heartwarming, this is a brilliant and propulsive book about the quotidian nature of violence.
Trigger Warnings: Violence, sexual violence
TL;DR: A truly brilliant, if brutal book.
If you liked this; try:
“Nothing Can Hurt You” by Nicola Maye Goldberg (Bookshop | Kindle) my review here
“The Glass Hotel” by Emily St. John Mandel (Bookshop | Kindle) my review here
“Sea Wife” by Amity Gaige (Bookshop | Kindle) my review here
If you click on one of the links in this article and make a purchase, She’s Full of Lit may receive a small commission. It doesn’t add anything to your price — we promise! Thanks so much for your support.
