Blurb

London, 1990. Zivoin is newly arrived in a strange country. The dependable oldest son, he works all hours of the day and night, sending every penny he can save back to his family. On the news, he watches his homeland, Yugoslavia, slowly fracturing.

Thousands of miles away, in the tropical heat of Uberlândia, Brazil, Alegria prepares to leave behind the country – and the family – she loves dearly. Bright and ambitious, she strives to give her parents the life they deserve, even if it takes her far from them.

A chance meeting throws Alegria and Zivoin together – and for a brief moment, they feel at home. But their journey is just beginning, and what follows will draw them irresistibly across countries and continents, leaving them both forever changed.

The powerful, exhilarating debut novel from an award-winning new voice in fiction, Strangerland is a heartfelt testament to the endurance that has come to define a generation of immigrants. Above all, it is a soaring, emotionally rich story about the power of love to transcend languages, borders and time.

Review

Many thanks to the publisher and the lovely Squadpod for providing me with an advance copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

I was really excited to get my hands on Monika Radojevic’s debut novel, having absolutely loved her short story collection A Beautiful Lack of Consequence, which was published last year. In the short stories, Radojevic’s style is sharp, incisive, experimental, and fiercely feminist, and I felt very much in safe hands as I started reading Strangerland.

The vibe here is slightly different, softened by the beautiful romance at the heart of the novel, but the prose is just as crisp and clever as I was hoping for. It’s writing that carries the reader along, shuts out the world outside, and transports us to the time and place where the characters’ dramas play out – the early 1990s setting and the movement between London, Brazil and Yugoslavia is compelling and absorbing. The main characters, Alegria and Zivoin, based on the author’s own parents, are hugely sympathetic and engaging, and their love story is enough to melt even the most cynical heart. Their attraction to each other and the strength of their feelings as they tentatively begin their relationship really does make you believe in true love.

One thing (among many) that the book does really well is to conjure up the logistical difficulties of moving between countries not only as an immigrant who fears being denied entry, but in the era before mobile phones – so many times in the story, pre-arranged meetings fall through, plans are disrupted and contingencies have to be made, and the characters have to display a resourcefulness that I’m not sure we can fully appreciate or remember nowadays! It creates some very strong moments of tension, and really makes you feel for the characters and the hurdles they have to overcome just to be given a chance at happiness.

I actually found it really refreshing to read a book about two such ‘good’ people. There is a lot of brilliant and very important context in the book about the barriers that immigrants face, the casual but brutal racism encountered every day, the relentlessness of financial constraints and the horrors of encroaching war, but the overall feeling I came away with was one of optimism in spite of it all, a renewed belief that there ARE decent human beings in the world, who deserve good things. And I think we all need that reminder these days! I won’t spoil the ending except to say that initially it surprised me, but when I reflected back, it fitted perfectly, and encompasses all the hope that I think this book offers up, despite the odds. After reading Strangerland, I’m a bigger fan of Monika Radojevic’s writing than ever, and I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Strangerland by Monika Radojevic is out now with Merky Books and is available to purchase here.