The High House: Shortlisted for the Costa Best Novel Award

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Nun wird erzählt, wie dieses Quartett lebt, wie die Menschen im Dorf nach und nach verschwinden, die Sommertouristen nicht mehr kommen, wie sie sich selbst versorgen, mit allen Problemen, wie der Kälte im Winter, der anstrengenden Nahrungsmittelproduktion und dem sorgsamen Umgang mit den Vorräten, die nicht mehr erzeugt werden können. Die Katastrophe bricht nicht mit einem Paukenschlag ins Leben der Protagonisten ein, sondern es passiert ein ganz langsames Fade-Out. Es scheint fast so, als wäre diese Wohngemeinschaft wieder bei der Gesellschaft der ersten Menschen in Europa angekommen, selbstverständlich mit ein paar Luxusvorräten, wie Antibiotika und Morphium ausgestattet. People might enjoy warm, sunny days in winter, in places where it used to be cold for months at a time. But there is nothing to enjoy about drought, wildfires, worsening storms, heat waves, and rising waters.

The High House by Jessie Greengrass, review: affecting but

A deeply moving novel set in a near-future where a climate crisis is no longer just a possibility but an imminent disaster. Francesca, a scientist, is one of the few to foresee it and has prepared her former holiday home as a sort of ark for herself, her step-daughter Caro, son Pauly and locals Sally and Grandy. This is so grounded in reality and the ordinariness of the lives of this disparate group, that I had to read parts of it through my fingers. The whole complicated system of modernity that had held us up, away from the earth, was crumbling, and we were becoming again what we had used to be: cold, and frightened of the weather, and frightened of the dark. but it was nearly midnight before at last he fell asleep, exhausted, half in and half out of the doorway. I watched him until I was sure he wouldn’t wake, and then I carried him to bed. I put on my pajamas, brushed my teeth, fetched a glass of water, and then, for comfort—his, or mine—I climbed in next to him and, with his small feet pressed against my stomach, I slept too. I poured coffee from the pot, one for each of us, and one for Francesca, who came downstairs in her dressing gown, her eyes puffy and face creased, saying, There was to be an exhibition. There were lots of pictures like his, apparently – of waiters, pastry cooks, valets, bellboys.’And I think that quote has some interesting follow up in this book – a book which is ostensibly very different in fact the author has said (in an inews interview) “I felt strongly that I couldn’t do the same thing again ……. I wanted to write more of a novelly novel.” which the article then goes on to say means “one with a strong plot and characters who bear no direct resemblance to their author.” What will you do? father asked me again, and Francesca said, That’s a pretty stupid question, under the circumstances.

The High House by Jessie Greengrass | Waterstones

Told by , 3 POVs, Caro, Pauly, and Sally, this book is about coming together in the face of fear of extinction and the sacrifice and human effort it takes to survive. Already shortlisted for a Costa Book Award, this novel is both horrifying - and a work of art. Heartbreaking but also heartwarming. As many others are saying it is literally impossible to put down and the combin One of the many any quotes I highlighted in that book (my copy was a forest of post in notes) was one from the narrator’s grandmother: They were silent for a long time then, and I stood very still in the corridor and thought of Pauly, the way his body twitched in his sleep, the tense look he got when Francesca was there, and how it was not hard at all for me to tell if he was happy or not.

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I heard Francesca’s hissed intake of breath. I heard her pause, turn, walk away, and I felt a sudden spasm of guilt. How warm Pauly was in my lap, how comfortable, how soft, and how it must have hurt Francesca then to be in the next room, alone, and to have the truth confirmed: it wasn’t that Pauly didn’t talk at all, but only that he didn’t talk to her. Periods of drought alternate with months of rain. Tent cities of refugees, driven from their homes by floods, are living in the higher altitudes of Britain. One wonders how long people will be able to live when they do not possess traditional survival skills, and weather patterns destroy crops. This theme of loss and of not acting until it is too late also cleverly is reflected in the many relationships in the book – for example between Sal and her Grandy, Caro and Pauly, relationships whole gradual change goes unnoticed until fate or another person forces realisation (for example it takes Francesca’s quizzing of Grandy on the history of the area for Sal to realise how far she drifted from Grandy and her home village while absorbed in University life). It was five hours behind where he and Francesca were, on the east coast of the US, and so it must have been early afternoon for him, but I thought he sounded tired. Perhaps they had been up all night, sat round a table in a conference centre trying yet again to force understanding where it wasn’t welcome. I said, Dad! and heard him sigh. The Stranding is joined on the debut shortlist by Caleb Azumah Nelson’s Open Water, which judges called a “nuanced portrayal of the realities of race today”, poet AK Blakemore’s The Manningtree Witches, set in Essex in 1643 as a puritanical fervour grips the nation, and Emily Itami’s Fault Lines, in which Mizuki, lonely in spite of her family, falls for Kiyoshi and begins an affair.