Guest Review (1): We Are All Completely Besides Ourselves

I am now beginning to build a web of people across London, England, and further afield who are embarking on this quest. I love getting emails from you all showcasing the passion to jump on board this quest with me. I'll setting up casual book drinks and discussions where I'll invite those that are reading/have just read the same book on the list, and this'll be a chance to bring books to swap for the next reads. These groups then can have their review of each book included on the blog, as this will open up the blog to a wide range of opinions which will, in time, lead to a vote for who we think should win.

For reviews, I encourage honest in thoughts, whether liked or disliked, this is a open chance to say exactly why this book managed to float you boat or if it's merely nothing more than a good door stop. If able to, please include a photo of you reading the book on your commute, at work, on the sofa at home, in bed etc as this will be a lovely little window into how each book is being read.





Guest Reviewer: Chantal Lyons
Occupation: MSc Environment, Science and Society, UCL

I must begin by confessing to being a bit of a philistine. I rarely read the kind of literary fiction that receives prestigious nominations, and most of my forays into it haven’t left me particularly satisfied (and, I’ll say it, I’ve found much of what I’ve read in the genre to be unbearably pretentious). So I find it interesting, but also heartening, that Karen Joy Fowler’s We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves has been longlisted this year. I read it when it was first published, and apart from its Man Bookerish title, I wouldn’t have pegged it as literary fiction at all. Either my taste must be refining, or the judges have decided to go broader this year. I welcome it.

To the book then. I knew about the twist from a review I’d read for it, but I’m glad it was spoiled for me, because I doubt I would’ve picked the book up otherwise. There’s a lot of Philip Larkin-esque misery stuff (“they f**k you up, your mum and dad”) around these days that simply don’t appeal to me. Fowler’s book, however, is defined by a unique concept that elevates it – and one that’s perfect for an animal lover like me.

Fowler's writing, apart from a few instances of purple prose, is highly immersive, while the humour is dry and well-observed. Once you know exactly why Rosemary Cooke's family is so unusual, the emotional heft comes from discovering in agonising, piecemeal fashion the inevitable yet still hard-hitting revelations of the past. This is a story that simply won't let you go, and will linger long after you've finished it. It poses hard questions and acknowledges that there may never be 'right' answers to them, and thoughtfully explores the consequences of a scientific experiment that really did happen in real life to several American families during the 1960s and 70s.

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves is beautifully written, and bound to make your eyes prick with tears. I particularly appreciated the bittersweet ending, characters’ lives irrevocably blessed, scarred, and changed. Life is never otherwise.