One collection and two novels down, and Julia Armfield is right up there with Nina Allan as one of the most exciting writers of contemporary (liminal) fiction. Her work doesn’t so much defy labels and marketing plans as point and laugh at them. Describing Private Rites as King Lear meets J.G. Ballard is the thinnest of bromides to the degree that even Armfield acknowledges the apparent influence: “King Lear and his dyke daughters”.

So, yes, it is about three sisters—Isla, Irene and Agnes—who don’t particularly get along, a state of affairs exacerbated by the death of their father, an “architect as cruel as he was revered.”* Against the backdrop of a drowned world (see what I did there) where it never stops raining (I assumed the novel was set in London because I associate wet with England), the squabbling sisters confront the trauma of their strange, lonely, abusive childhood in the glass house their father considered his most outstanding achievement.

Isla, Irene and Agnes are not especially likeable. Isla—a psychologist—frequently doubts herself. Irene is constantly angry. Agnes is distant and aloof. Together, they are a nightmare of back-biting insecurity and regret. Spending time with these three should be unbearable, and, at times, I had to grit my teeth. But, mostly, the character work here is pure artistry because, whatever their failings, you feel sympathy for the sisters—you appreciate that the novel’s villain is their father.

If I were the spoiler-type, I would jump straight to the last twenty pages. I’m sure many other reviewers will (justifiably) give it away because it’s such a curve ball, and whether you enjoy the book will depend partly (maybe entirely) on what you make of those final pages. Processing the denouement took several days, but I eventually decided it was a stroke of genius. That it confused and surprised me—even with the hints sprinkled through the novel—is what ultimately won me over. Armfield does not play it safe.

And that’s why I’ll read whatever Armfield writes. Very few authors are willing to undermine the narrative scaffolding of their novel, to put it all on the line. It’s genuinely thrilling. This is why I read. This!

*Thank you back cover copy.