I'm torn on this one - how many stars to rate a book which is clearly a stunning and unique work of art but which I really didn't enjoy at all? I've almost never come across this dilemma before. The prose is lyrical and almost palpable in its ability to evoke a sight or a feeling. The setting is majestic; the themes are profound and deftly-handled. But I found myself doing whatever the reading equivalent is of looking squeamishly away from the screen in a cinema far too often for my liking. This is a brutal read - cruelty and misery and suffering and frozen mud are my lasting impressions. The fact that it's brought so vividly alive made it all the less pleasant to immerse myself in. The author has let me witness their world and I don't really know whether to thank them, or ask them politely to leave and never return.
Edit: I meant to mention that as I read on Kindle and therefore hadn't seen the cover, I spent the first 20% of this book assuming the narrator was a boy - it was only when a character insulted Jas by saying she 'couldn't grow tits' that I paused and then started looking for evidence of her being female. It intrigued me.

Such an unusual book - it was creepy, intelligent, full of wisdom and menace. It reminded me of Shirley Jackson, and you cannot get greater praise than that.

I did not enjoy this book. As the title forewarns my dominant reaction to this book was extreme discomfort inflicted by a needling, strident sadism. The comparison that kept creeping into my mind, rather fittingly given the rigid religiosity in this novel, was the Book of Job - endless, needless suffering (mostly for the characters but also for the readers!). The book is well-written, an examination of repressed grief in a cold, fanatically Christian, rural Dutch household. Unable to blame God for the sudden death of their oldest son, the family begin to turn against one another - father against mother, parents against children, brother against sisters. Death creeps into the household, corrupting precious familial rituals. In one shocking scene, the mother ‘got up in the middle of the kitchen, on the stepladder she normally only unfolded to get down the spider’s webs. To every web with a spider in it, she’d say, “Be off with you, old spinster.”...This time she didn’t climb the stepladder to get rid of a spider but to get me out of the web she’d spun herself. “If you don’t take off your coat immediately, I’ll jump.”’ In its narrator, the book is marvellously adept at capturing the warped logic of childhood, the obsessiveness that develops as a coping mechanism against the powerlessness of youth - and how easily that descends into depraved and harmful experimentation. On this, the book has no limits as the protagonist spirals further and further. Yet for all its accomplishments, this is a cruel book. A reader’s reaction to it will be deeply personal and primarily driven by what one believes art should do. This book excels at portraying all the ugliness and depravity that pain unearths, but there is no higher aesthetic goal. I kept searching for a striving toward beauty and meaning, some hint of kindness and redemption, and never found it.

I’ve struggled to make sense of my thoughts after reading The Discomfort of Evening. I’m not sure how to rate and review a book that is so subversive, so painful, and, yes, so incredibly uncomfortable.

The bones of the story surrounds 10 year old Jas and her family who live and work on a dairy farm in rural Netherlands. Her older brother Matthies tragically passes away in an ice skating incident, leaving behind deeply wounded parents, Jas, and her two siblings Obbe and Hannah.

As time passes, each member of the family handles the grief of loosing Matthies uniquely, but both Jas and her mother seem to endure the most psychological damage. Jas’s mother loses interest in food; she becomes thinner and thinner, and more and more reclusive. Jas, who is keenly insightful, constantly worries about her, sinking deeper into her anxieties.

Jas develops coping mechanisms such as hiding herself in her large red coat and refusing to take it off. She engages in self harm and suffers severe constipation as a result of her anxieties and her desperation to main control of her crumbling family. A physical inability to let go, an internal bloating.

I can’t talk about this book without addressing its many controversial and difficult passages. Jas’ infatuation with Hitler, animal abuse, and children’s sexuality which can be read as both assault and incest in separate instances. Many explicit scenes made my stomach turn, and at one point I considered putting the book down and not finishing it. Why would a talented writer fill their otherwise profound book with such graphic, disturbing imagery? I’m still trying to contend with this. The book would have been as effective as a study of grief if specific passages weren’t included. In fact, this would have been a 5 star read for me.

There is no doubt in my mind though: Marieke Lucas Rijneveld is fascinating. Rijneveld is non-binary, grew up and still works on a dairy farm, and I can’t help but wonder what parts of this book might have been borrowed from their childhood. While this book was extremely difficult, in many ways it felt like a new generation in fiction.

A smashing book which deserves the worldwide praise.
The author has written a bare and open wound of a novel. Jas eeks of despair and desolation, it is pure poetry in parts. My notes actually look like oh and eek, such was my feeling of loneliness in such a barren wounded family. Such sorrow. Phew.
I could read this book over and over and have already gifted copies to others. My new copy is not going anywhere, it will stay with me!
Thank you for such a terrific read, a truly exemplary work of fiction.

Enthralling and unsettling this Dutch gem is grim and brutal to its bones and sprinkled with the very blackest of humour. It lives in the head of 10-year-old Jas, a farm-girl whose strict Christian family is rocked by the death of her older brother. The family slowly fractures as the deaths creates new pressures and emphasises old ones. Jas records the cruelties and madnesses of their (and her) grief in the simple, unvarnished language of a child and it hits twice as hard. Jas's own response is to live in her increasingly repellent red coat, finding comfort in its constant embrace even as it shrinks and smells and frays. Her brother hurts himself and others (animals and humans), her mother starves herself. And in the midst of all this darkness Foot and Mouth threatens everything. There is a nastiness to some of the things that happen that many readers will (reasonably) find too much, particularly thoughts and acts of adolescent sexuality. But it is written so well and honestly, an unashamed warts-and-all exploration of grief, rigidity and the seamier sides of human nature with grotesque but vivid descriptions that are brilliantly translated by Michelle Hutchison. It's not perfect, some of the jokes and themes never really hit home and it drifts towards an end but I am eager to see what Rijneveld does next.

After a tragedy occurs the family in this story all appear to fall apart and become deranged. The father is a strict disciplinarian, maybe even an abuser and the mother just retreats further into her own world.
Strangest of all, the children - particularly the eldest girl. She appears to be even more mentally unstable than her siblings. Was this due to the tragedy or were they a totally dysfunctional and mentally unbalanced family just waiting for something to flick the switch? The ending is particularly chilling.
Very well written. I feel the author has been brave with certain aspects of the story.

The writing and translation was good, but not good enough to make up for the disturbing content. Initially I thought the style of writing was very appropriate for children raised on a farm, but then I realised the choice of language was a representation of mental disintegration.This story was depressing, grim and violent. Many thanks to Netgalley for an arc of this book.

Usually it's clear whether I love or loathe a book. But The Discomfort of Evening is hard to quantify. Jas lives on a dairy farm in the Netherlands, and death, disease and sex are never far from sight. But when her brother dies after falling through a frozen lake, the darkness threatens to overwhelm her whole family. Her parents argue, her mother stops eating and her other brother Obbe is angry and hates everything. This book is not afraid to confront awkward and taboo subjects, but it is at times uncomfortable to read. Dark and even savage at times, this is not a light read, but nevertheless an interesting and complex look at grief and the dynamics of family.

This is a deeply disturbing book about the impact of grief on a religious dairy farming family in the Netherlands. The first wave of grief happens when Jas' brother drowns in a skating accident. The family is riven by grief each in their own way. Before the deep chasms left by this have even had the possibility of healing, the family lose all their herd to Foot and Mouth Disease and a second tsunami of grief ensues.

The title is very apt
" According to the pastor, discomfort is good. In discomfort we are real".
This book certainly makes the reader feel "uncomfortable". The visceral descriptions of the things the children do when the grief is diverted into sexuality and how they treat animals are deeply disturbing. Here is human nature "red in tooth and claw" .

The reality is that grief rarely unites a family but does send them careering in opposite directions as each person grieves in their own way. Jas' parents are so deep in their own grief they don't seem to notice what is happening to their children. They don't recognise that Death is stalking Jas and she will try any kind of "magical thinking" to try and evade it. Her fear is translated into extremes.

It is apparent that the author is a poet. Their use of language, even in translation, is extraordinary. Even as the novel stretches the possibilities of the form, and goes beyond what most authors can ever achieve.

Raw, uncompromising and unforgettable. This sort of book comes along rarely and stands out as one of the most extraordinary books I've ever read.

Discomfort doesn't really scratch the surface of this book. I finished reading this a few days ago and I still feel haunted by it.

This book was so unsettling and there were so many times I came close to just not finishing. Truth be told if it wasn't for my already struggling netgalley ratio I might not have. However, I persevered.

I was often struck by way the young narrator describes her grief. Her staccato tone and lack of empathy was both disturbing and powerful.

What I will say is, this book is by no means enjoyable. It's dark intense and claustrophobic. The subject matter is at times hard to tolerate - animal abuse and incest. I've read several reviews that have said the darker subject matter is gratuitous and I did agree whilst reading the book. However, after finishing the book I don't think the ending would have packed the same punch without it. Whilst shocking and unexpected it also seemed inevitable. I too craved the same escape Jas sought.

When all is said and done this is a book that I imagine will stay with me for a long time. Whilst I may not have enjoyed it I think it was well written. And let's be honest a book doesn't need to be enjoyable to be good.

⭐ 1 Star ⭐

Monotonous and muddled. This debut details the all-consuming grief of a family who loses a child. However, it seems to rely more on shock value than creating emotional depth. Instances of pointless repetitive gratuitous violence create the framework for this book. For me, this could have been a visceral novel about rural life for a devoutly religious household caught in poverty, but instead, it is obsessed with its own darkness and degeneracy.

Trigger Warnings: Incest, Child Abuse, Neglect, Sexual Abuse, Animal Abuse, Beastiality, Self Harm, Anti-Semitism, References to Paedophilia, Detailed descriptions of Constipation and Defecation and Multiple References to Hitler.

I received an advance review copy for free via NetGalley. I am leaving this review voluntarily 📚.

This book is probably like marmite. For me it worked. It’s certainly grim but life can be: it’s just one thing after another. With the innocence (or perhaps inexperience) of a child the story is entirely based on the strong narrative voice that combines images and thoughts running together as a family falls apart due to grief alongside trying to grow up. You stay for the images and the thought process which are vivid and arresting, the morbid fascination of what comes next...

I'm aware that this book has received great critical acclaim, but I found it pretty disturbing (and I'm usually hard to disturb!)
The plot is reminiscent of Ian McEwan's The Cement Garden- children left to their own devices develop their own animalistic rituals and explore incestuous sexualities. The rural Scandinavian setting was one I hadn't explored before- I found the descriptions of farming, food and religious interesting, but found myself becoming increasing frustrated when no-one outside the community (teachers, for example) bothered to question the children about their clearly dysfunctional home. I would hesitate to recommend such a bleak, troubling novel to my students, but I look forward to discussing it with other adult readers (at their own risk!)

Disturbing read, for sure .. well written but I had to push myself to re-engage when I had to put it down .. I frankly did not enjoy this child's view because it's a disturbed, sad, household .. at first I almost thought it was dystopian sci fi in some ways .. it could be that circumstances of timing of my reading are stacked against it, with virus and death talk all around , I don't need more! But bn I can tell this is talented writer with eye for relationships and indirect observations ...

PUBLISHER’S DESCRIPTION:
“I asked God if he please couldn't take my brother Matthies instead of my rabbit. 'Amen.'
Ten-year-old Jas has a unique way of experiencing her universe: the feeling of udder ointment on her skin as protection against harsh winters; the texture of green warts, like capers, on migrating toads; the sound of 'blush words' that aren't in the Bible. But when a tragic accident ruptures the family, her curiosity warps into a vortex of increasingly disturbing fantasies - unlocking a darkness that threatens to derail them all."

NO SPOILERS

This is a touching, somewhat beautiful, though disturbing debut novel, which, as I write has been selected for the short list of the Booker International Prize 2020 and deservedly so.

Rijneveld writes in the first person, the tale being told through the thoughts and observations of ten year old Jas up to her being twelve…and what observations! They sometimes seem too advanced for a child but this is no ordinary child and this is no ordinary book. I especially loved the portrayal of the slow decline of her mother which is full of pathos and often, desperation.

Rijneveld’s/Jas’ style flows well and is easy to read; she had me at the first line and not many authors do that.
I did have to frequently remind myself that the jaw dropping naivity of the children was due to their strict, reformist upbringing, at times more cult than religion.

There are scenes which some readers will find uncomfortable, some are very disturbing but none are gratuitous. And whilst the first line had me hooked, the last had me holding my breath. A stunning debut, beautifully written and I assume skillfully translated; I’m crossing my fingers for the Booker!

Thank you to NetGalley and Faber & Faber for the Advanced Reader Copy of the book, which I have voluntarily reviewed.

The Discomfort of Evening by Marieke lucas Rjineveld is an unusual, dark and intense story, depicting in detail a families reaction to grief and loss. Written from the perspective of 10yr old Jas, whose perspective on the world is different from others her age, the novel describes the families distress and the way it impacts upon their relationships, sexuality and responses to economic/social crises large and small (e.g. the migration of toads/mad cows disease). Some of the content, particularly in relation to Jas's sexuality and the children's obsession with death, are very disturbing and difficult to read. There are also times you wonder whether actions taken by adults are sincerely meant or sexually abusive and there are a number of elements so far removed from my culture, that I am unsure if they are typical of a family in the Netherlands with those religious views, or are also abnormal in this context. However, the novel has stayed with me long after reading it, and the characters got under my skin.

Longlisted to International Booker Prize 2020

I tried to read this book multiple times but I failed. It is one of the favourites to make the shortlist according to The Mookse and the Gripes group and that was my motivator to continue. However, the book became more and more disgusting and depressing and I just could not handle it, especially during this Coronavirus pandemic. Having two small kids at home does not help as my anxiety levels went through the roof thinking : What if my toddlers will start to behave like this when they are older. The book contains animal cruelty, exploration of their sexuality by the children and other stuff that I am not willing to read.

While I appreciated the author's ability to capture a child's eye view of the world, especially the main character's physical revulsion at so many of the tastes, smells and sights around her, this book just wasn't for me. I tried three times and just couldn't get past page 60. Because I did not finish, I will not post a review on social media.

This is a really unpleasant book, distasteful and unnecessarily violent. It’s not just dark, but bizarrely dark, and I felt that the author was deliberately setting out to shock the reader. The writing is impressive in its way, but it’s not my way, and it felt more like self-indulgent wallowing in misery rather than an intelligent attempt to explore the ravages of grief. Ten-year-old Jas is devastated, as are all her family, after her brother dies in a tragic accident. Unable to cope, and with no support from her parents or the wider community, she sinks down into increasingly warped behaviours which become ever more difficult to read about. Sexual abuse, aberrant youthful sexual behaviour, animal abuse, incest, violence plus an obsession with defecation – the author piles on the dysfunction and inappropriate behaviour until the overload becomes almost farcical. I couldn’t relate to the characters, not even suffering Jas, as none of them are empathetic in any way. This might be an accurate portrayal of bleak and brutal rural life, but there is nothing here to offset that brutality and engage the reader’s sympathy. Not for me, this one, and in spite of all the accolades it has received, I found it nasty and offensive.