Sometimes I write about books and I write and write because I
love that book so much and I have SO MUCH to say, and I just want to flail
around a little, and get my thoughts down and feel all the things really
vocally.
& then other times I really love a book, and I want to
write about it, but I don’t know quite why or indeed, how, because I don’t have all that many words at all. I just
want to kind of bask in a little bit, to sit back and feel
and just kind of gesture towards the book and say ‘hey guys, I read this thing
and it was super, and you should read it too, but I can’t talk about it too
much right now because I am too busy feeling.’
This is one of those times, and so this review is shorter
than some, but please know that has zero bearing on my love for this book: I
loved this book.
Carys Bray. It’s
a name you should take note of; it’s a name we’re going to hear a lot of, if
her debut novel A Song for Issy Bradley is
anything to go by.
Honestly, this book is beautiful. I devoured it in an
afternoon, and it left me breathless.
Issy Bradley is 4 when she dies, quite suddenly, from
meningitis. The story that follows is that of her family, and how they come to
terms with losing her.
The Bradley’s are a strict Mormon family. Issy’s Dad, Ian,
is a bishop and believes staunchly that faith should be enough to carry the
family through: losing Issy must be all
part of God’s plan, because what other option is there?
Issy’s Mum though, falls apart.
The other children find their own ways of dealing with both
their sister’s death and their parents reactions to it, and at the same time
try to find a way to keep putting one foot in front of the other, because
however much their Mum might wish it had, life didn’t stop the day Issy died:
Zippy falls in love for the first time, Al is sort of angry, and views the
world with the cynicism of a misunderstood teenage boy and then there’s Jacob.
Little Jacob is only 7. He believes that if he just believes hard enough he can conjure a miracle. So he believes as hard
as he can. His faith is bigger than a mustard seed, maybe even bigger than a
toffee bonbon, and that has to be big enough for the kind of miracle he so
desperately needs, hasn’t it?
Every single member of this beautiful flawed family makes my
heart hurt in different ways.
This book is beautifully written. It made me cry tears that
were utterly unconnected to my hay fever (how high must the pollen count have
been this weekend, my God) and it made me laugh. Carys Bray takes you into the
hearts and minds of a grieving family and shows you with tact and honesty how
life goes on in the midst of utter devastation. You should know, though, that
this isn’t a book about death. Nor is it a book about organised religion,
although it gives an interesting and clever insight into both of those
things. It’s a book about family, and
about love, and about what that really truly means. It’s beautiful.
A Song for Issy Bradley is released
later this month, so I believe. I promise it’s worth a look.
