1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Dark, beautiful, brilliant., 16 Dec 2011
This review is from: Somewhere Else, or Even Here (Salt Modern Fiction) (Paperback)
"Somewhere Else, Or Even Here" was awarded the prestigious Scott Prize for short stories by Salt Publishing, and within the first page, you'll see why. This book had me hooked from the opening story, "Sometimes Gulls Kill Other Gulls", which recounts a chilling encounter between two children on a beach. From this brilliant opener, AJ Ashworth leads her readers through a whole series of perfectly-realised worlds, capturing brief but critical moments in the lives of her characters.
There's a lovely contrast between the lyricism of Ashworth's writing style, and the darkness and even tragedy that haunts a lot of the stories she tells. "The Rings of Saturn", where the narrator is slowly losing her husband to Alzheimer's disease, tells the story of slow decline and incremental loss with vividness and even beauty. One of the great delights of this collection is the realisation that these beguilingly lovely stories have actually drawn you into some of the darkest experiences of human existence - the death of children, the imprisonment of parents, the threat of murder.
Ashworth has the gift of sharing the inner worlds of her characters, compelling us to empathise with even the most unlikeable characters, from the angry hormonal teenage boy of "Bone Fire" to the nightmare train passenger of "Bananas". The characters will live in your head long after you've put the book down.
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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
An Impressive Debut., 6 Dec 2011
This review is from: Somewhere Else, or Even Here (Salt Modern Fiction) (Paperback)
This is the debut short story collection of A.J. Ashworth, but you wouldn't realize that from reading it; the writing is assured, subtle and controlled.
On the other hand, you might realize it from the zest, range and diversity of the stories, qualities which are often reined in in later collections by some writers, mainstream publishers preferring uniformity over diversity these days.
The range alone is impressive, in narrative, setting, character, yet the individual lives are securely inhabited, written from the inside, even when written from the opposite gender, as in Bone Fire, in which a troubled teenage boy lights a bonfire in the school basement; also in Trees, in which the son of a jailed paedophile comes to terms with his imposed destiny.
They vary in age too, from a young girl being bullied by a boy on a beach, through a gang of teenage girls ridiculing one of them over her choice of baby's name (interestingly, written in the first person plural for most of its length) to an ageing woman interviewed by a local reporter about her forthcoming golden wedding anniversary as she struggles with her husband's fading memory.
But it's the quality, not just the range, of the writing that's important: the metaphors, often from astronomy, of which Ashworth has evident knowledge, are powerful, but there for a purpose, not decoration but illumination. Likewise the descriptions, adjectival phrases, are spot-on, unexpectedly shedding light or clarity, but not drawing attention to themselves in a show-off way; the reader acknowledges them subliminally, without being distracted from the narrative.
Not least, the endings, open, allowing unexpected developments yet conveying the probable trajectory of cramped lives and limited possibilities. There's a directness to the writing, yet a convincing obliqueness, and if that sounds like a contradiction, all I can say is read them for yourself and you'll see what I mean.
We may be seeing the emergence of a major talent here. Be in at the beginning!
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5.0 out of 5 stars
By the pricking of my thumbs., 15 Dec 2011
This review is from: Somewhere Else, or Even Here (Salt Modern Fiction) (Paperback)
An amazingly mature collection for a debut; I couldn't put the book down until I had finished them all. Each story took me somewhere utterly believable; sometimes willingly, sometimes by the scruff of my neck. By the pricking of my thumbs this is wicked writing! I hope the next collection is on the way.
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