An autobiographical novel about a young girl growing up in a small Polish village.
Greg (Finite Formulae and Theories of Chance, 2014, etc.) has published several volumes of poetry and been translated into at least five different languages. Her first book of prose, an autobiographical novel (or a fictionalized memoir), was received to great acclaim in the U.K. and was longlisted for the 2017 Man Booker International Prize. The book’s appearance in the U.S. is a great gift. The novel describes Greg’s childhood and early adolescence in a small Polish village in the 1970s and '80s. It is composed of short, vivid chapters that glisten and gleam, clicking one behind the other like pearls on a string. In one, Wiola (as she is called here) anticipates a visit from the pope to their village—really, he will just be driving through, but the village women eagerly prepare bunting to welcome him. Just as the bunting has been finished, however, a crowd of men arrives to destroy it: these are communist times, after all. Greg’s ability to describe moments of great historical, political, and cultural importance through the eyes of a child is wonderful. She remains focused on her young protagonist even as the Soviet Union splinters around her. Even better is Greg’s emphasis on bright, almost otherworldly images that crop up throughout these chapters. Wiola’s father practices taxidermy in his spare time; one day, after completing a project, he falls asleep on the sofa: “The goshawk, with its artificially spread wings, soared above him.” Later, her father dies, but before he does, Wiola notices “the shadow of a queen bee flicker[ing] in the window.” The images give the novel a fairy-tale quality, as does the threat of sexual violence, which echoes throughout several chapters.
Greg’s masterful first novel is charming, seductive, and sinister by turns.