In ‘Summerwater’ Sarah Moss gives us twenty-four hours in the lives and minds of a disparate group of families holidaying far away from anywhere else in a cabin park in the Scottish Highlands. No one is having a good time. The weather is appalling; the cabins are damp and chilly; the neighbours are nosy and the boredom is palpable. Alex risks his life kayaking rather than sitting one moment longer in his cramped family cabin. Lola devises ways of bullying the patent-shoed Violetta. The doctor and his wife drive miles to sit in separate cafés, relieved to have some time apart. Justine runs her daily miles ludicrously early and Becky simulates pleasure in bed, rather more desirous of bacon butties than her fiancé’s attentions! This is a moving, funny, truthful examination of why people behave as they do, what they tolerate, and what they long for.
Moss’s characters always feel real. In this novel, she is particularly good at capturing the awkward teenage years: the inner fury, the exasperation at one’s family, the internal conversations during which parents are annihilated. We are also reminded of another common ‘holidays’ trait: the setting may be grim but the paying adults feel duty bound to stick it out even as they dream of a warm and welcoming home just a few hours away.
Whilst this novel does not have the narrative drive of Moss’s previous work, and may not be enjoyed by those who insist on a traditional story, it is a wonderful observation of familial relationships. In contrast to the human discontent, the surrounding natural world – both above and below ground – is portrayed as wonderfully adaptive and fully functioning, and serves the narrative as welcome interludes between the voices at the park. The reference to ‘The Ballad of Semmerwater’ by Sir William Watson, a poem learnt by Mary as a child, may appear relatively arbitrary other than to link with her mistake of ‘Summerwater’ as she kept on calling it all those years ago. However, it is not too far a stretch to suggest that the mean-spiritedness referenced in the poem also plays out through some Brexit attitudes in the camp. By the end of the novel the reader recognises that the rundown holiday cabins will likely enter folklore too, and for anything other than magical reasons.
My thanks to NetGalley and Pan Macmillan for a copy of this novel in exchange for a fair review.

Location-Scotland, a holiday lodge park in The Trossachs. It’s raining like there’s no tomorrow, some cabin fever setting in as the holiday makers are trapped indoors though a few decide to ‘make the best of it’. The story is told from the perspectives of the occupants of some of the lodges, all in their own little world but also hyper aware of possible prying eyes in the close proximity. They are unknowingly united in their grumbling about the nightly loud music and partying from a cabin of Ukrainians/Romanians/ Polish/ etc, etc which reveals so much about them and their judgemental thoughts.

The characters are vividly depicted and I love the thoughts of some of them such as runner Justine with her dark thinking especially about her husband and Milly fantasising about Don Draper - mmmmm! They are especially funny with their humour tending towards the dark side! There’s an older mum who takes forever to choose a tea bag flavour to the fury of her teenage daughter and a young mum given the gift of a free hour with no clue how to spend it. I love the randomness of their thoughts, some are off the wall but who hasn’t been there??? Between each characters narration there are some beautiful depictions of the natural world such as a deer and a fawn, ants, bats, flora and fauna and this heightens your awareness and you become watchful like the deer and it makes you observe the occupants with a closer eye. It also highlights the isolation of the setting beside a large loch (I imagine Loch Lomond or Loch Katrine) and it adds to the ambience. With separate story the atmosphere intensifies and you realise you are building to a dramatic conclusion. The end is shocking partly because of the peaceful, idyllic setting but you also realise that all the signs are there that something dramatic is about to happen.

Overall, a beautifully written and atmospheric piece if work from the talented Sarah Moss.

Thanks to NetGalley and Pan MacMillan for the ARC.

I thought Ghost Wall, Sarah Moss’s last novel really good and was looking forward to reading Summerwater. Taking place in a Highlands holiday park over a course of one long rainy summer day, the novel focuses on the holidaymakers, couples and families passing the time, waiting for the weather to improve. The blurb promised tensions and I thought it an intriguing premise.

The narrative moves from one holidaymaker to another: wives, husbands, girlfriends, boyfriends, children. A woman in her forties obsessed with running, a retired doctor reminiscing about the past, a sixteen year old boy kayaking on the loch, a young woman fantasising about Don Draper while having sex with her fiancé. To be honest, to me they all sounded the same, self-absorbed, bored, written in the same stream of consciousness style and tone. It felt as if I was reading about a hive mind rather than individual characters with their own individual voices and yet Moss indicates that they come from different social backgrounds and are clearly of different ages and sexes. Interspersed with these narratives are the voices of the local wildlife – a fox looking for food for her cubs, an anthill. The animals feel tension in the air although when something eventually happens, it is rushed.

Unfortunately, I found Summerwater underwhelming. I thought the concept was interesting and there were good thoughts about prejudice, small mindedness, class and privilege - somewhat lost in the repetitive narrative tone. Sadly, not for me.

My thanks to Pan Macmillan, Picador and Netgalley for the opportunity to read and review Summerwater.

Summerwater is a short novel exploring the people at a Scottish cabin park on a single day, with simmering tensions amidst the wet weather. There's various families and children, cooped up indoors; an old couple thinking about the past; a young couple unaware of how each other are feeling; and, as noticed by everyone else, a woman and her daughter who some of the others don't think fits in. As the narrative moves between the perspective of different people and the day goes on, the question is, what will happen by nighttime?

This is an easily immersive novel, that moves quickly between each character, only giving you each person's perspective once. It paints a picture of the similarities and differences between people's mindsets and the way that they all watch each other out of their patio doors, like nosy neighbours but temporary. There's sharp moments of exposure about modern Britain, from xenophobia to environmental concerns, and a sense of privilege amongst the less-than-ideal holidays the characters are having.

Summerwater is a kind of study of the contemporary moment from within a Scottish holiday park, showing lingering judgement and prejudice under the surface. Similarly to Moss' previous novel Ghost Wall, it takes a group of people outside of their usual setting, with a distinct nature backdrop, and observes what happens when they come together.

A holiday park on the edge of a loch in the Trossachs, with 12 different holiday makers from early in the morning one wet day, to the late night ending. The perspectives include a mother of young children, unsure what to do with a free hour, a teenager kayaking round the loch, a woman addicted to running, an elderly doctor caring for his wife, the recollections of the wife, and some of the children.

It's sometimes hard to see where Summerwater is going, the plot is a fairly loose one right up until the end. Every character is fully realised though, and the sense of place throughout the whole novel is incredible. I can visualise the holiday park, the loch, the other nearby loch with the cafe - partly perhaps because I've been to similar places, but also the descriptions given are rich and evocative without being over-done. The rain is almost its own character, pervasive throughout the whole novel. I'm pining for Scotland, even if it would be wet when I got there!

The events at the end of the novel were a genuine shock, something was obviously coming but I found the fact that it was from the perspective of one of the children made it all the more resonant. I've found it hard to forget it since. The first Sarah Moss novel I read was The Tidal Zone, and I've been a fan ever since, but Summerwater has really stuck with me since I finished it a few days ago.

I first came across Sarah Moss’ writing after her novel ‘Ghost Wall’ was longlisted by the Women’s Prize for Fiction in 2019. I absolutely loved how Moss was able to create such an atmospheric and haunting setting in such a short space of time. Summerwater, too, is a short novel but is equally vivid in terms of its sense of place and the characters that inhabit that world.
Set over the course of one dismal and rainy day in a Scottish holiday park, the narrative perspectives switch between several individuals all caught up in their own troubles and conflicts whilst being aware of the prying eyes of the other occupants within the other cabins staring at them as there is little else to do.
Whilst intensely atmospheric and dark there were moments that were hilariously empathetic such as when the mother of two young children is given respite for an hour and does not quite know what to do to utilise every precious second or the young teenage girl who becomes frustrated over her mother deliberating about which flavoured tea bag to choose. Despite these moments of humour, you are aware as a reader of an increasing sense of claustrophobia as the night draws in as well as an increasing sense of proximity to the other characters.
At the end of each chapter Moss switches to a focus on events occurring in the natural world: ants locking themselves in underground or a vixen feeding her young and then hunting. These moments are a sharp juxtaposition and serve to remind us of the proximity of the natural world but also our insignificance within it. Many of the individual characters who we share insights from are consumed with themselves, oblivious to others and at worst racist and ignorant reminding us of the pettiness and selfishness of human beings. The ending, although a sense of anticipation had been building, is shocking and serves to remind us of just how fragile all life is. A wonderfully written and evocative piece that I will no doubt return to again.

Little slices of life,from the inhabitants of a caravan park one rainy day in Scotland.
As always when you have a set of shorter connected stories,you'll enjoy some more than others.
There's humour here,I smiled to myself several times.

For me,it added to the idea that Moss is an author worth taking time to read,but it's not my favourite of her books.

Summerwater is a beautifully structured - almost plotless - story that follows the lives of 12 people in a holiday park in Scotland. Whilst the plot is very minimal, the introduction of a new narrator for each chapter carries the story beautifully and allows the reader to get a real feel for each of the characters and the environment. Moss' writing is feels almost effortless and allows for Summerwater to be both authentic and a treat to read.

Thank you to Picador/Pan Mac for an early copy of Summerwater.

Another tension building, wonderful novel from Sarah Moss.
Set over the course of a single summer day, in a Scottish cabin park by the side of a Loch, where families are cooped up inside due to the bad weather. Narratives flip between the residents starting with the mother of two young children out for her early morning run. During the day families squabble, struggle with grudges and try to over come the claustrophobia of being stuck inside their cabins. Each person and family are wrapped up in their own problems but tensions begin to rise and animosity grows towards one particular family. Simmering tensions increase until at nightfall tragedy strikes.
This is an excellent books, which I read in only a couple of sittings.

Thank you to Pan MacMillan for the review copy on NetGalley! I loved this atmospheric and fast-paced literary novel - it was written with the same care and attention to detail that I've come to expect from Sarah Moss. I loved the isolated setting which avoided being a stereotypical depiction of rural Scotland. I also adore the idea of a temporary community coming together during a disaster and the individual perspectives of different community members all flawed and fully realised in a short chapter each. The novel reminded me of Ali Smith's work in the way it drew on nature and music as interludes to the (sort-of) everyday routines of each of these holiday makers. Overall, I'll be recommending this to customers who are looking for a quick yet poignant read which leaves you questioning your own assumptions.

This short novel is based inside the heads of twelve people who find themselves on a wet, dreary holiday in a group of cabins on the shore of a Scottish loch. The writing style is ‘stream of consciousness’ and the problem at times is that what is going on inside someone’s head is often of less interest to others than to the thinker - it comes across sometimes as rather aimless meandering. The book is clearly building up to some sort of dramatic conclusion, but the pacing is not quite right, with the buildup too long and slow and the drama too late and too short. Having said all that, I did find much of the writing mesmerising once au fait with the style, and Moss has the skill to clearly describe the thoughts and feelings of a very disparate group of people with skill and empathy, making this a book worth reading, but not one of my all time favourites.

It's no secret that I'm a big fan of Sarah Moss; I own all of her books and recommend them at any given opportunity. I think my friends are getting a bit bored of hearing about her! Naturally, when I found out that she had a new book coming out this year, I was clamouring for a copy - so massive thanks to Pan Mac and NetGalley for the ARC.

Summerwater is a swift 200-odd-pager, set during a single rainy day in a Scottish holiday camp. Each chapter sits inside the head of one of the cooped-up holiday makers, who are all trying to make the best of a glum getaway without killing their loved ones. Having been on a number of agonising cottage holidays in my time, this brought back some painful memories! Although the different points of view could be strong stand-alone pieces, they connect together as everyone spies on everyone else, culminating in shared tragedy at the close of the day.

As in her other books - Night Waking and The Tidal Zone particularly come to mind - Moss writes fantastically about the claustrophobia of family, touched with sly social commentary and a dark sense of humour. If you've been a fan of her past work, you'll certainly be a fan of Summerwater.

Actual rating 4.5/5 stars.

Continual rain keeps those vacationing in one of Scotland's loch-edged holiday parks largely indoors. With little to do, tempers fray and force some out to face the misery of the sodden landscape instead. Some run, some kayak, some visit those they shouldn't. Those inside clean, contemplate, make love, eat too much, drink too much. All watch. All wait. Something, something they can not name or even begin to understand, is descending on them all, along with the expanse of clouds above.

This was such a well-constructed novel. Twelve perspectives were each given free reign to provide an account of their day. The trivialities for some were major incidents for others. The quiet joy for one was the sole reason for distemper in another. All differed, but all were also to share in a fate that would bond them, forever. They were unaware of it and so too was the reader, but a curious and ominous air coated all actions and events, leading the tension to rise as the pages were turned.

Despite the diverse differences in all of these characters, Moss made each feel like an authentic and distinct voice, with a small child's innocence conveyed just as well as an elderly lady's onset dementia. I loved exploring each of their characters, as well as the families they belonged to.

The limited page length made this a quick read, but also one's whose focus was anything but. Pages loitered over evocative depictions of landscape and the seeming individual trivialities of each perspective. I just enjoyed just being in the presence of these twelve individuals, as they narrated the petty incidents of their day.

The majority of the novel received nothing but adoration from me but I found the concluding event a little rushed, which stunted this love a little. All came as a surprise and was dealt with just as well as everything preceding it, but I longed for a few additional pages for the full extent of the occurrences to really hit me.

I really enjoyed all the detailed descriptive observations that were given within the narrative. Also liked how the day progressed with each of the perspectives that was introduced.
I did not enjoy the fact that dialogue wasn’t set apart from descriptive sentences as it normally is. It just made me reread the sentences every so often which disturbed the flow of reading.

Certainly a book for a rainy day whilst on a Scottish summer holiday.

12 people are on holiday in cabins based in woods by a Scottish loch, the weather is persistent torrential rain. They range from children to the elderly and Moss presents their thoughts (and lives) in streams of consciousness during one day in the holiday park.

These range from hilarious - the young woman attempting to orgasm with her fiance by thinking about Don Draper (Madmen) but finding her thoughts drifting off to consider whether Italy is fascist and other irrelevancies, to the poignant - a housewife with fragile mental health and an elderly lady who realises she is develping dementia. Overall the effect is sad in the extreme, with little joy in any of the lives depicted, but the different voices are very well done. Each could be a short story on its own and as well as a sense of sadness I was left wanting to know more about each character.

Sarah Moss is a master of evocative writing: The story moves slowly and many passages are very descriptive (which usually bothers me), but the text is still intense and intriguing. For her short novel "Summerwater", she chose a peculiar structure: Over the course of one day, we meet 12 people in different stages of their lives, all of them spending their summer holidays in a Scottish cabin park at a loch. There's a retired couple, there are families with children of different ages, a young engaged couple, and a family with Eastern European roots. In longer vignettes, alternating between viewpoints, we hear about the trials and tribulations of these vacationers, and by them conveying what they think of the others in the park - people they mainly see, but hardly ever talk or even connect to - the isolation of the inhabitants of the cabins becomes clear. And it's mainly the family with the foreign surname who likes to throw noisy parties they are suspicious of - until the tension culminates in a catastrophe.

If you now think that this plot structure does not seem particularly appealing, don't be fooled: The individual stories prove Moss' keen eyes and ears - this woman knows how to write hilarious sex scenes, women trapped in familial duties (Weather falls so, so short compared to this), old people dealing with changes, young kids playing cruel games, teenagers stuck in a cabin with their parents, and, more than anything, nature. Not only are there nature scenes separating the vignettes, there are also great descriptions within the stories full of elements that connect the stories of individual, isolated people who are connected by the setting: The rain, the stones, the trees, the loch. Moss also employs motifs and objects that appear again and again in the different stories, and if you put them together, they point to the tragedy at the end.

The book title refers to The Ballad of Semmerwater by Sir William Watson - one of the characters always misheard the name of the poem as a child. Needless to say, the ballad can be read in the context of "Summerwater", but as this is Sarah Moss, the book isn't a simple re-telling.

A fascinating book, at times contemplative, at times hilarious, and worth reading for Moss' atmospheric prose alone.

Summerwater, the latest novel(la) by Sarah Moss, is set in a cabin park in the Trossachs, where several disparate families are on holiday. Although its ‘action’ is spread over one long (rainy) summer’s day, the novel does not follow a traditional narrative and does not really have a plot – at least, not in the conventional sense. This notwithstanding, it is very tautly structured, and one of its striking characteristics is its formal elegance.

Each of its short chapters is written from the point of view of one of the residents of the different lodges. These chapters are, in turn, separated by brief vignettes (barely a page in length), in which the focus shifts to the natural world. Half-way through the novel, we start revisiting each of the cabins, through the thoughts of a different resident, giving the book a vaguely palindromic feel. The only characters in the story whose viewpoint we do not get to share are, tellingly, the holidaymakers who are seen as outsiders by the rest – a Ukrainian group with a penchant for noisy, boozy parties and an Iraqi war veteran who is staying in a tent in the woods.

Summerwater shares some of its themes with Sarah Moss’s previous novel Ghost Wall. There is an underlying violence, which is only hinted at in the earlier parts of the book and comes to the surface at the end (although not exactly in the way one might expect). There are references to sexual/gender politics and feminist themes, as well as to the issues of racism and xenophobia. Finally, there’s a Hardyesque sense of “deep time” with the eternal cycles of nature serving as the backdrop to the transient tragedies of man. Surprisingly, the novel’s stream of consciousness approach leaves for a healthy streak of humour which balances the novel’s darker aspects.

I must admit that, on the whole, I enjoyed Summerwater less than Ghost Wall. Despite the author’s attempts to differentiate between the characters, the narrative voices seemed too similar, making it difficult to really empathize with the characters. Yet, there’s still much to admire in the book and, at novella length, it never outstays its welcome.

This pre-release download absorbed me completely. The action takes place on one day of a summer holiday in Scotland when the rain is relentless and the occupants of the wooden cabins are shut in with their families. Bored and tetchy children, neurotic and self-absorbed middle-class mothers, hormonal teenagers, fathers either nipping to the pub where there is WiFi or struggling to ‘enjoy’ time with their children, an elderly couple and partying Ukranians with a weakness for thumping bass rhythms and smoking in their wooden cabin, do not make for a happy mix.
They observe each other with some suspicion and much criticism or escape into the rain to run, to go kayaking or just to be outside because they’re on holiday and they have come here to enjoy themselves; right?
Meanwhile vivid observations and beautifully written short commentaries about the natural world, unfazed by rain or people, intersperse the narrative.
The sort of day where nothing happens....until suddenly, it does.
Thank you #NetGalley and #PanMacmillan

Ghost Wall was one of my favourite books from 2018 and I was excited to read Sarah Moss' next piece of work. Her writing has a hypnotic style that lends itself particularly well to this novel. The tempestuous lochside setting and the multiplicity of the voices that narrate the story, along with the interiority of the characters' thoughts and feelings create a vehicle for building terrific tension. In this novel, as in her others, Moss' ability to blend a visceral understanding of her characters with tension that becomes more and more taught as the novel goes on is what makes this book shine.

A series of interweaving stories about each family on a campsite is Scotland. There’s a lot of introspection, lots of different personalities and some strange goings on. Great sense of a very remote place where a disparate group of people are brought together .