- Review of THE MERE
By @daniellegileswriter
-
“I feel no evil in it. No good either. It is vast and old and slow.”
The Mere is a book just saturated with atmosphere. Somehow Giles’ prose manages to seep the dread of this place into your bones with just broad daylight words.

Specifically, “that place” is the fens of 10c Norfolk. Early on, a boy disappears, straying from a group of travelers as they move through the dark, labyrinthine, wetland landscape.
The mere surrounds a small convent, struggling to survive. Wulfrun, a fascinating new inhabitant, seems desperate to locate the boy, but those who would usually like to help (namely our MC, the convent infirmarian Hilda) are hesitant, resistant even, clearly afraid of the landscape. Even in a convent, it is old beliefs and superstitions which guide how the event is handled, and in this we see the shape of medieval politics.

The Mere explores themes of faith, superstition, politics and sexuality. I most enjoyed the depiction of medieval Christianity and folklore – how they layered, how old beliefs died hard, how they mingled, how they had to tolerate each other, how the flowed over and around each other much like the water of the mere, to shape what became of Christianity. This is not the only exploration but it is the one which stood out for me and led my enjoyment of the book.

I was reminded of several other stories in reading Giles’ immersive debut. The tussle for leadership of the convent and the complicated interpersonal relationships was reminiscent of Matrix by Lauren Groff, and the descriptions of the dangerous marshland and the tension between the old folk beliefs and Christianity made me think of Gorse by Sam K Horton.

This character-led novel was packed full of emotion. I really felt for Hilda through the pain she had to endure and felt several of the characters were nuanced and had complicated enough pasts and motives to bring an understanding to their actions under such intense pressure that their conflicting ideologies seemed to bring them.

I loved this book. Dark and brooding, it is a in depth character exploration from a time where the natural world was not trusted and you can't be sure of anything.

I could not give a proper review to this as the formatting wouldn't work on my kindle. Netgalley could not advise but I have since purchased the book.

Thank you so much for the opportunity

Supernaturally strange lesbian horror.
This highly unusual novel weaves horror into a religious medieval setting, at the time when pagan rituals make way for christianity but are still very much part of the daily life. This is the story of the fight between two cultures, using nuns as pawns in a battle much bigger than them. I would say good vs evil, except there's not really a "good" side.

This is a historical novel with subtle mystical undertones. It tells a story of a group of religious nuns in a an isolated monastery in 1990 A.D. Norfolk UK.
The setting admits waterlogged low Land East Anne And fence in the pre-industrial age is atmospheric and spooky. You can imagine the low lying fog and the land being flooded leaving only certain passages above ground that the inhabitants can walk on without getting lost or falling into the water. One of the servant boys goes missing which further adds to the sense of isolation and the creepiness of the novel. The nuns are entirely self-sufficient, although they are pleased by a few male priests eventually even they seem redundant as the women run the monastery entirely
My first feelings about the novel was that “This is a slow burn this book have a feeling it’s got potential so I’m sticking with it”
The writer has a clear easily read writing style. The book is creepy claustrophobic and dark in sections. The atmosphere is described perfectly.
My only criticism might be that their character development is not as detailed as I personally prefer but I’m nevertheless left with a strong memory of the atmosphere of this novel which stands out.
I read a copy of the novel on NetGalley UK in return for an unbiased review. The book was published in the UK on the 3rd of April 2025 by Pan McMillan.
This review will appear on NetGalley UK, Goodreads, StoryGraph, and my book blog bionicSarahS books.wordpress.com. After publication it will also appear on Amazon UK and Waterstones .

A miniaturist masterpiece of dread and hope
—
In Britain, we call the Middle Ages the Dark Ages because the written record is sparser than during the Roman occupation or the Norman era afterwards, but the texts do exist, many of them ecclesiastical. Taking monastic life as the basis of this finely tuned and perfectly wrought historical novel, Giles weaves in folk beliefs and temporal politics (with a small p) to give us this miniaturist masterpiece.

In the fens of East Anglia, a distant abbey is fading into the wetlands. The Abbess rules with a rod of iron, but she cannot overcome the ravages of nature or even the folk beliefs of the lay folk who keep the abbey going. The infirmarium Hilda riles against the Abbess’s iron hold but new entrant Wulfrun—intelligent, widowed, powerful—arrives as the world begins to close in on the abbey and threatens ruin by disease, water and malign magic. Who will win out, or will nature overtake all?

There are no clear heroes or villains in this carefully observed slice of medieval life, but the horror is in the lack of options when things become more and more wrong. No matter what the complex characters try, they are stymied at every turn, until the greatest sacrifices are required. The atmosphere is suitably dank and creepy, with the fens acting as both jailer and monster, and an awful end appears inevitable. Giles plays a long game in this book and never telegraphs exactly where it’s going so the ending, where Giles brings the characters to places that you could not predict exactly, is both well-earned and a perfect coda.

Four and a half stars

I really enjoyed this read, a gripping, mysterious novel set in 990AD in the Norfolk fens – a forbidding and dangerous marshy landscape, in the midst of which is the home of a community of religious sisters.

The thread of the story is held by the infirmarian, Sister Hilda, somewhat on the outside of the group, but knowledgeable of plants and herbs that can treat and heal, and therefore a very necessary member of the community. A new arrival in Sister Wulfrun sends thrills through the group, and the disappearance en-route of a young boy from Wulfrun’s group brings a mystery to be solved.

There are some exciting relationships that build between the characters, and no-one is ever quite sure who really holds the power. The setting and environment are key to the atmosphere of the plot, and are beautifully described. I really enjoyed this read.

I was really absorbed in this book, but I also don't have a whole lot to say about it. The tension within the convent was compelling, the circumstances of famine were STRESSFUL to say the least, and I really enjoyed gothic atmosphere in the unique setting. I'll be honest I didn't really understand what the resolution of the "curse" arc was trying to do, but overall it was still a satisfying read.

Set in the Anglo-Saxon Dark Ages, Mere is a sapphic supernatural mystery. In 990AD Norfolk, a religious community is isolated in a deep, dark marsh. QThe sisters live an austere and brutal life under the leadership of Abbess Sigeburg. Our protagonist, Hilda, is the convent’s infirmarian, a role which sees her often skirt the line between prescribed church doctrine and the old ways. When a child disappears from their community, the mystery sparks panic and suspicion. As further disasters and starvation befall the community, it becomes clear that the beliefs of old merely hide in the shadows, and that the Mere demands a price…
A little slow to start, Mere rewards the reader when it ramps up towards the middle an oppressive frenzy of superstition. Eerie and atmospheric it’s unlike anything else that I have read.

Thank you to NetGalley and PanMacmillan for this advance copy! Mere is out now.

“I thought the marsh a refuge, a home. A place where I walked bright through secret ways. But it is changing, reaching out grasping fingers, grinding impatient teeth”

Mere is a masterpiece, pure and simple. A beautifully written novel that takes it’s time in inflicting horrors and disaster upon the convent and its inhabitants. Much like the mere which serves as it’s title, Giles forces you to wade through the waters of Hilda’s story, sinking deeper into the convent’s secrets and structures as tragedy after tragedy occurs.

I found myself growing consumed within the depths of this story each time I picked it up, until by the final chapters I was overcome with nothing but admiration for the imagery, prose and complicated, and at times frustrating, characters.

I can do little more than encourage you to pick it up.

‘It is not wrong to wish not to suffer.’

This is a novel narrating a landscape (a bit like the recent Historical Fantasy ‘Gorse’ by Sam K. Horton). I spent time living in the area where ‘Mere’ is situated, and completed some research into the history of the environment there, so I’m familiar with its specific kind of dour and dismal character, and appreciate the possibilities it opens up atmospherically for fiction with its brooding mercurial gloom (which is also demonstrated marvellously by Stella Tillyard in ‘The Great Level’):
‘the marsh has fingers and it reaches out above water below water and all those places that are both at once and it shelters those fat clotted leeches dreaming of springblood and beneath them trembling beetle eggs one day to be snapped up by pike sharptooth and there are eels knotted with blacksmith muscle and they could take a man’s hand if they wished’.

The principal delight in Danielle Giles’s writing is its precision. At first, it appears weightless and wispy, effortlessly pitter-pattering like light on fenland water. Perhaps it feels that way because she is writing both about an enigmatic landscape, rendered mysterious both literally and figuratively by mist, but also because she is writing about the Christian god and the faith practised by the women of a medieval convent, which are – by their very nature – ungraspable, ephemeral things. Giles’s tender touch is what I wanted from Lauren Groff’s ‘Matrix’, and what it failed to deliver as I DNF’ed it.

Upon closer study of ‘Mere’, the translucency of Giles’s style cedes to an uncommon intensity, bound to her representation of female queerness, which offers the reader divers episodes, sometimes delightful, sometimes pitiful:
‘I wish we could stay here,’ I say. ‘With no hunger, no thirst. It would be our Eden.’
‘Two Eves,’ muses Wulfrun. ‘One too many.’

The backbone of ‘Mere’ – in my view – is a deep, deep immersion in the character of Hilda, the kind of incarnation-in-prose that not every author can achieve with characterisation. Every personality is distinctive, bold as they take their parts in the playing-out of the convent’s dark decline. I expected Abbess Sigeburg to dominate (‘For all her faults, our Mother Superior has always been able to gather hope to her. It let her raise the convent out of this sodden earth four decades ago, let her bully and trick gold and tithes and relics from whoever would pay’), but it is to Hilda and Wulfrun that the narrative pays its devotion:

‘I can hear Wulfrun’s heartbeat, the soft workings of her muscles and the rushing of her belly. A whole kingdom, inside of her. When she begins to speak, it is a tremble through her and a tremble through me’.

As the plot extricates itself from the mythology of the mere, from omens, from ‘the curse’, from the shattering episodes of violence (‘I am sparrow-weak lamb-meek a kicked cur called to heel and I do not want them to hurt me’), the prose is vivid, the pacing is slow, yet the most exquisite element is revealed to be the tension Giles indites as the descent into unholiness is tallied against the ultimate ascent towards secular redemptive love.
‘I think of foxes and mice. How there is no deadlier time for both than the silence before the leap. The mouse might escape and condemn the fox to starve. Or, the fox might be the victor and crunch sharp bones in sharper teeth. But for the span of a held breath, none know their fate.’

My thanks go to Pan MacMillan for the ARC of this fine debut.

Set in a very isolated abbey on the edge of the Norfolk fens, this novel is cloying, atmospheric, and powerful. Set in the depths of winter, it explores the darkness of nature and humanity, along with elements of the supernatural and horror.

The theme of early medieval Christianity was a strong theme throughout this book, but it was pitched against some juxtaposing themes and beliefs, e.g. the presence of a fen devil and spiritual rituals like the sacrifice of a goat, and the worship of Christ and the power of devotion. There are elements of sapphic romance, something the church has historically been against. This mix of religion provides a powerful exploration of different beliefs of the time.

The nature writing in the novel captures the themes of isolation, bleakness, and the unforgiving nature.

There’s a wide range of characters, from Hilda herself who is the caring and very flawed protagonist, to her assistant, warrior priests, and the outsider Sweet.

Overall, a very powerfully written novel set in a fascinating and unique period of history.

I was drawn to this book for the Norfolk setting as well as the historical period covered but I found that the sense of place wasn't as strong as I'd expected.
I enjoyed the conflict between old beliefs and the new Christianity and also the interpersonal relationships within the setting but at times it did feel a little like a modern story relocated in time.
It kept me guessing throughout however which is always a good thing.

3.75 stars

A convent's battle for survival amidst hunger, power struggles, forbidden intimacies, religious change, environmental and social brutality, and a strange curse. A slow read to start with, but hugely atmospheric.

Thanks to NetGalley, Mantle and Pan Macmillan for the ARC in return for an honest review.

Mere by Danielle Giles is the kind of novel that wraps itself around you like the creeping fog of the Fens—at once beautiful, chilling, and impossible to ignore. Set in 990 AD in an isolated Norfolk monastery, Giles weaves a tale steeped in atmosphere, where pagan superstition clashes with the early roots of Christianity, and where faith is as much a weapon as a comfort.

The story unfolds in a place of eerie quiet and ancient secrets, where every shadow whispers of something older and darker than the cloistered walls can contain. Hilda, the monastery’s infirmarian, is a quietly powerful presence, grounded in knowledge and intuition. As the layers peel back—after the mere claims a young boy—what’s revealed is a tangled web of power, fear, and buried desire.

Sister Wulfrun’s arrival turns the already fragile order on its head. Her presence is electric, and the chemistry between her and Hilda is undeniable, complex, and beautifully drawn. Is Wulfrun divinely touched or dangerously deluded? Giles keeps that tension tight, blurring the lines between holiness and heresy, between devotion and defiance.

I genuinely loved this book. It’s dark and mysterious in all the right ways, with prose that reads like incantation and imagery that lingers long after the final page. I thought the ending might turn one way—it didn’t—and yet, in retrospect, it couldn’t have ended any other. The resolution is quiet, but devastating.

If you enjoy historical fiction that is full of atmosphere, explores faith and power with a deft hand, and doesn’t shy away from the unsettling, Mere is a must-read.

A mesmerising tale rich with mystery and an unsettling atmosphere that seeps beneath your skin.

"Mere" unfolds in a time when ancient rites intertwine with Christianity, revealing a world of survival, power struggles, love, and faith. The author skillfully navigates this cultural tapestry, creating a story that grips you from the very first page. With a deliberate and measured pace, the narrative allows for deep character development and mounting tension, immersing you in the raw isolation of the fens of East Anglia in 990 AD. The sinister allure of the mere enhances this darkly captivating read.

Intense and entrancing, adorned with lyrical prose, the author conjures a fever dream of a tale infused with lingering malice. "Mere" is not just a story; it’s an unforgettable journey that will haunt your thoughts long after you close the book.

A real treat of a book. Set within the walls of a convent, some time around 950 we were given an insight into how the sisters within the convent, led their lives.
The story puts across, very well, how hard life was for them and how they relied on potions and mixtures from wild fruits and flowers as remedies for their times of sickness.
The story really gets across how hard life was for them, especially after the fire they experience. It’s a really atmospheric book and I found myself unable to put it down, wanting to know the outcome for our two main characters particularly. I also learned something from the story! I had no idea that Gippeswyk was a real place but kept thinking it almost had a ring of Ipswich to it.
This is definitely one to read; totally enjoyable.

Set in Norfolk in 990, Mere follows Hilda, an infirmarian (healer) in an isolated convent that’s surrounded by almost impassable marshland.

There’s a darkness to the marshland that results in a fear that permeates the declining convent. When a young boy goes missing on his way to the convent, it seems to set off a curse that has devastating effects. More and more people are lost in the marshland and either dying or coming back with a sickness in their mind that could be possession by the devil or a monster from the old ways under the mere.

On top of this, a series of disasters befall the convent and their futures start to look incredibly bleak. The resulting struggle for power is also a struggle to survive.

Will the most pious leaders of the convent acknowledge the old darkness and the rituals that used to keep it at bay?

I was reminded of several other stories in reading Giles’ immersive debut. The tussle for leadership of the convent and the complicated interpersonal relationships was reminiscent of Matrix by Lauren Groff, and the descriptions of the dangerous marshland and the tension between the old folk beliefs and Christianity made me think of Gorse by Sam K Horton.

This character-led novel was packed full of emotion. I really felt for Hilda through the pain she had to endure and felt several of the characters were nuanced and had complicated enough pasts and motives to bring an understanding to their actions under such intense pressure that their conflicting ideologies seemed to bring them.

A dark and atmospheric novel set in 990AD in a convent built on the edge of the fens in Norfolk. A time when although Christianity is well established the old beliefs and gods still hold some sway in the local population. Struggling to survive, events lead the community to believe that they have been cursed and loyalties and beliefs are tested to their limits. I really enjoyed this novel with its rich and evocative language which took you back to a time of hardship and quickly changing fortunes. The descriptions of the mere and nature made you really feel the cold and wet and creeping dread that slowly builds during the novel. A book of love and loyalty, betrayal and lust, friendship and family but also of the wish to belong. I look forward to more from this author. Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC of this book in return for a honest review.