Blurb

“It starts as bloating, a hard curvature in my gut that won’t go away. I wonder if it’s my period, but it isn’t the right time. The cramps come slowly at first, like a slowly rising tide, and then grow shorter and sharper, a racing heartbeat.”

When Lia lays an egg she doesn’t know what to do. At her age, it’s impossible to escape the baby question, and all her friends seem to be having children. She feels her heart’s not in it – but all the same, there’s the egg, impossible to ignore, lying in a nest of towels in the living room.

Her partner on tour on the other side of the world and her mother diagnosed with a terminal illness, Lia finds herself torn, unsure whether she’s ready to give up on her songwriting dreams; but time is running out, and she must make one of the biggest decisions of her life.

FLEDGING is for every woman who’s felt weighed down by the baby decision – and paralysed by the fear that She’ll Regret Not Having Them One Day. It’s a call for women to make their own choices, whether that means embracing motherhood or living child-free.

Review

When I first heard about the premise of Rose Diell’s novel, I knew I had to read it. I was delighted to be offered a spot on the blog tour and an advanced reading copy in exchange for an honest review – many thanks to the wonderful Will at Renard Press.

I’m fascinated by ‘the motherhood question’ – ever since I read Sheila Heti’s autofictional novel, Motherhood, I’ve become increasingly aware of just how casually I tumbled into the state of motherhood, assuming it to be the next logical step but not interrogating my decision (barely registering it as a decision at all, in fact). Luckily for me, it was the right decision, but what a strange step to take so lightly, especially for someone like me, who is usually such an overthinker. I have a lot of respect for women who wrestle properly with this question, and I love seeing different explorations in fiction. All this to say, even though I’m a done deal motherhood-wise, this is a topic that really interests me, and this novel had me from the tagline.

Apart from being a fantastic hook, the premise of Lia laying an egg also creates a wonderfully dramatic opening scene. It’s the perfect showcase for the author’s lithe, spare prose, drawing us into the present tense narration and creating an immediate sense of trust in the writing – yes, the situation is outlandish, but we’re in good hands here, we can suspend our disbelief and go with the flow of Lia’s story.

There’s a lovely rhythm to this book, partly created by the natural stages each section describes (Brooding, Hatching, Fledging), but also by the different threads that the author weaves together. As well as her current dilemma, we get snatches of Lia’s past, we learn a little about her long distance relationship with David, her attempts to carve out a career as a songwriter, and, most significantly, her own mother’s illness. There is also a deep focus on Lia’s physical awareness of her body, and the strange pains she suffers – at times, this reminded me slightly of Maddie Mortimer’s excellent novel Maps of Our Spectacular Bodies. Both books share a precision of language and a way of exploring physical and emotional sensation in a way that feels careful, exacting, an unpeeling of thoughts and feelings to get to what is underneath. It’s really clever writing: understated, but beautiful – the sort of writing I trust to dig out the truth.

What I also really admire about Fledging is that it’s exactly as long as it needs to be. That may sound like faint praise, but it isn’t, I promise – it’s got more weight and heft than a short story, (though it reminds me a little of shorter works by Angela Carter and Margaret Atwood, two of my favourite writers) and the three acts create a satisfying narrative arc. It never feels stretched, despite the potential constraints of its allegorical centrepiece, and we get to know Lia in a way that feels nuanced and real. I love that we don’t get offered neat conclusions wrapped up in a bow – life is more complex than that, and individuals need to sift through the mess and the beauty and the chaos of who they are in order to make their own decisions.

This short but powerful book has a kind of mesmerising quality – Lia’s world becomes so vivid that the hook of the ‘wacky’ premise fades into accepted reality, and the beautiful writing takes over. I’d read anything else this author writes, and I highly recommend getting your hands on this wonderful story.

Fledging by Rose Diell is published by Renard Press and is available to purchase here.