We Pretty Pieces of Flesh (2025)
Why this one?
Another Netgalley upcoming release that caught my attention. In this case two things grabbed me: a recommendation from Eimear McBride, and the fact that it’s set in Doncaster (very close to where I grew up).
Colwill Brown was born and raised in Doncaster, England. She studied in the US, first gaining an MA in English Literature from Boston College, and then an MFA from the University of Texas in Austin. Her writing has appeared in Granta, Prairie Schooner and elsewhere. For fifteen years, she’s lived with ME/CFS. This is her debut novel.
We Pretty Pieces of Flesh will be published by Chatto & Windus in February 2025. Thanks to them and Netgalley for the ARC.
Thoughts, etc.
We Pretty Pieces of Flesh follows three childhood friends (Rach, Kel and Shaz) from their first days at secondary school in Doncaster, through their teenage years together and later years apart, culminating in a reunion night out when potentially explosive secrets simmer under the surface. It’s written in impressively well-rendered local dialect, and is at heart a coming of age story, depicting the ups and downs of the teenage trio, and reflecting on where those years have led them - examining the bonds of friendship and as well as the forces that can tear them apart.
The book seems initially to have Rach as its central character, the slightly better-off member of the trio, but gradually shifts its focus between the three, with our sympathies shifting somewhat in the process. Rach begins seeming like a relative outsider in the school years, but ends up drifting into a life of local normality, remaining in the area as a school teacher, marrying a dubious teenage dropout and (allegedly) voting for Brexit. Kel is the quieter of the bunch in school years, but ends up studying in the US, detached from her home and finding herself struggling with relationships and a fatigue based syndrome that seems to be ME. Shaz starts out as the cockiest of the bunch, popular with the lads and developing a reputation for herself in the process. In a trajectory that seems somewhat fated throughout, she ends up skipping college and struggling through a succession of dead-end jobs in Donny. Her relationship with the others is burdened in later years by a secret that she feels she cannot tell. But she ends up feeling like the heart of the novel, and increasingly becomes the central figure in the later part of the novel.
I wondered at first whether the dialect might prove a little off-putting to some readers, especially those who are unfamiliar with the almost street-by-street nuances in the pronunciation of certain words in South Yorkshire and the surrounding areas. Even as someone who grew up speaking a version of this dialect (now sadly lost, to my eternal regret) it initially took a bit of getting used to. But once you’re in, it lends the whole thing a real momentum and energy. It’s also true to life, clearly written by a local and not by someone who thinks Yorkshire dialect consists entirely of adding 't’ in front of every second word. And there’s considerable fun to be had with it for those attuned to the micro-variations in usage - whether you’re right, reyt or reet says rather a lot about your background!
At times it feels claustrophobically focused on Doncaster (in a good way), and in those teenage years the characters see a trip to the next town as something akin to a lunar voyage. But their horizons slowly broaden, notably Kel’s, although it’s with some irony that her big departure to the US ends in her being mostly housebound due to her illness. I enjoyed this section though, as it suddenly felt like we were thrown into the world of an entirely different novel, making the whole so much richer-feeling as a result. But I also loved the narrowness of focus in much of the rest of the book. I’m not truly attuned to the detail of Donny, but some of the bars and clubs were familiar, as of course is the good old Donny Dome; and more broadly it felt like the world pictured was a very familiar one from my own youth (helped along by the fact that the characters are just a few years younger than me). It is, quite correctly, a book riddled with the stench of Bacardi Breezers and various other favourite sticky alcopop concoctions of the era.
I found a lot to enjoy in this one overall. It’s an incredibly rich book: thematically, aside from its central focus on friendship, it touches on sex, sexuality, class, drugs, friendship, illness, eating disorders, abuse, post-industrial decline, and myriad other topics. It does this with a lightness of touch, as well as an emotional warmth that means it’s never an overly grim read, in spite of that foreboding subject list. Its characters are memorable and relatable, and each develop more layers as the book develops. Its depictions of teenage drama of all stripes is constantly engaging: even as it covers ground we’ve often seen in coming of age novels, it does so with a fresh energy.
Score
9
Another really strong debut that I’m very happy to have stumbled across. I hope this gets the attention it deserves next year.
Next up
More TBR pile action, I think.