This is a novel of two interspersing narratives. I liked both strands equally. One is a third-person account of Edith aged 73, living in County Clare, in a property kept on by her after her divorce from an Irish man, with a son in England, and Gunther, a German-born potter with whom she has sex on Thursday evenings. In the second narrative, which is first person, we get a distinct coming-of-age flavour as Edith looks back to the time, before going up to Oxford, when she travelled to Italy to be with her pregnant ballet-dancer older sister in the run-up to the birth of her unwanted child.
The title feels appropriate. There’s a strong sense of environment throughout, both the younger and older Edith like to walk and the observational writing is strong. The Italian sequences of fruit plucked from trees; of a dancer attempting to ignore what is happening to her body as the child grows inside her; of the teenage Edith, aware of her inappropriate too-young clothing; of the male dancers also at the villa gives a headiness throughout which feels rich and sensual and is once again evident in the much older Edith, who is living on her terms, for the first time in her life. To an extent, this Edith has chosen to retreat from the modern world but is ever-aware of the slant her Irish environment puts on that.
It is all very well-written. I did find it, I must admit, hard to reconcile the young Edith with her more mature self without much fill-in between the two time periods which made the switches between the narratives feel not quite as smooth as I hoped
There is much here about belonging. Edith’s often absent mother was unable to settle because of what had happened to her Jewish family, in the next generation Lydia chose to give birth in an environment she did not know to minimise the shame and the potential damage to her dance career caused by her pregnancy. In contemporary Ireland, Edith has a friend who objects to immigrants and finds herself contacted by an unknown family member. Edith’s sense of herself as an outsider both in the Italy of her youth (where she proves herself to be pretty essential) and the Ireland of her later years further brings this theme into both narratives.
There are issues of family, of dependence and autonomy, of the kinesphere, which is the space we inhabit in the world, (and which actually could have worked as an alternative title) and it all comes together strongly in this well-crafted tale.

Ripeness is published in the UK by Picador Books on 22nd May 2025. Many thanks to the publishers and Netgalley for the advance review copy.

Absolutely magical. A change of pace from the other Sarah Moss books I’ve read with a much more upbeat heart and optimistic ending, even as it deals with loss and dispossession. I loved the division between the 1960s Lake Como setting and the Irish contemporary sections – both with a very distinct feel, and adding to the resonance of the other. I also liked the way that contemporary concerns about migration and refugees tied in with the family Holocaust connection, and the Italian story about origin and belonging ran parallel both to Edith’s own attempts to find her place and the appearance of her friend Meabh’s long-lost brother.
This is a slow, contemplative story with wonderful atmosphere and deep resonance. Much as I love Sarah Moss’s writing, her other books have always been gruelling emotionally. This, for all its sadness, was a joy to read.
I'll review on Instagram when the book is released.

I love Sarah Moss's writing and she didn't disappoint with this her latest book.. Set against two time-lines - Edith as a teenager, waiting to go up to Oxford and sent by her mother to Italy to look after her unmarried ballerina sister Lydia as she awaits the birth of her baby, with strict instructions to make a phone call after the birth, which will not only precipitate the baby's adoption but will also have a profound impact on all concerned . The second time line is Edith in old age, now divorced and living in rural Ireland with a younger lover, looking back on her life as she writes a letter to her lost but not forgotten nephew.

This is a multi-layered beautifully nuanced story ; an exploration of family dynamics, identity, belonging and the passage of time. . The story is further enhanced by the interesting use of the first person for the young Edith, and the third person for the older Edith, where her story is conveyed through her thoughts and musings..

A thought-provoking beautifully written book. I would definitely recommend it.

Just finished school Edith is sent to Italy to look after her pregnant sister. She is instructed to help with the birth and then make a phone call.
Many years later and living in Ireland Edith is forced to relive those days and to wonder what happened to the bay boy that was loved but given up.

I've read a number of this author's novels now, plus her memoir, so I was already a fan, but for me Ripeness is a step up. More than a week after finishing it, I can't stop thinking about it, and I'm not even sure I can articulate why - it definitely struck a chord.

In alternating chapters we follow the main character Edith in the present day as an elderly divorcée living on the west coast of Ireland, and as a 17 year old in the 1960s spending part of her enforced gap year (by her parents; too immature to take her place at Oxford just yet) in the north of Italy. She feels like an outsider in both places, for different reasons, and this is one of the strong themes of the novel.

Young Edith has been sent to Italy to support her older sister, Lydia, through the final weeks of her unplanned pregnancy. No initiative or decision-making will be required; the professional ballet dancer will give birth, hand the child over to a French convent, then return to work with her ballet company in London. All Edith has to do is to make the phone call when the baby is born. She does not expect to be so affected by the event or by the child.

Years later in Ireland, Edith has had a good life including a relatively good divorce. She loves her (now adult) child Pat, but had never wanted to give him a sibling. Now living in the former marital holiday cottage, Edith has emerged from the COVID lockdowns back into a life of swimming, long walks, catching up with good friends and sharing regular intimacies with an undemanding lover. Her small village community and simple life suit her and how she wants to live. It's only when the stakes are raised that she's reminded that, despite living in Ireland for 30 or so years, she's still an outsider. An Englishwoman and a Jew in a land of Irish Catholics.

A very subtle change in the literary point of view about one third of the way through made my head spin - questioning what I had already read, and why. In fact I had to turn back a few short chapters to see whether my brain had taken a wrong turn! But no, it was real, and it gradually dawned on me that there was more to this story than meets the eye. Very topical, very current, very clever.

this book had such lightness of touch the sometimes weighty topics it covered. and it covered alot. this woman we are reading of certainly has been through some times in her life and i loved getting to know her here and now but also the life she lived before. how things shape us sometimes without us even taking it on as doing so at the time. and what we will do for those we love and because they are asked by those we love.
this book really let me into a world of a woman who fascinated me from the start.
the writing from Sarah feels like it flowed throughout my heart as i read. i was totally immersed in the characters and story and each words was almost poetical in its fitting amongst the pages. its just felt so full of richness and depth that only a skilled author like i know Sarah to be can bring.
the book gives us Edith who tells her tale in two timelines. one which links to the other in many way. the modern day one is with Edit now divorces so she can get a few years of freedom, she 73 years old and wants HER own time now. she is contacted by a friend who says she been contacted by a man claiming to be her brother. and its about how Edit helps her with that. this also brings up her own past. of a time in Italy when she had to help her own ballet focused sister bring a new born into the world and trust to make sure this baby wasnt kept.
the themes all fit together seamlessly and they are themes of such heartbreak and hope and so many other in between. they all fit though, with Sarah's writing of them they just build us a story and a character you can take your eyes of for a second because you just want to delve into more of.
a perfect book of true skilled writing.

The main protagonist of Ripeness, Edith, is an English lady now in her 70s, and living in Ireland. The novel has a split time-line: the text of a long personal letter Edith is writing for her long-lost nephew about his maternal heritage and birth in the late-60s whose sections are separated by chapters concerning Edith's present-day life, written in the third person. Both sections have wonderful descriptions of the landscape and people she comes across.

The plots of both timelines are intriguing, and 70-odd year-old Edith's emotions and experience of life are reflected in the letter to her nephew. For me, the novel is about so much: family and community, nature versus nurture, and how one's attitude may change as one ages. There is a lot of food for thought in this novel, and it would make an excellent book club choice.

Edith is a complicated woman and the dual narratives of the present where she is in her 70s and her summer as a 17 year old help to show the growth from a more compliant, eager to please teen into an independent, divorced mother of 1 who does more or less as she pleases.

There are a host of supporting characters which helped to show different facets of Edith's personality and I liked that they all had their own struggles. The change in her consciousness of others' thoughts and feelings is very clear when jumping between the narratives. Innocent, unworldly 17-year-old Edith doesn't see or understand the judgment of others in the same way that she does when reflecting back.

I would have liked to learn more about Edith's elusive Maman but equally the story would not have been the same had that been the case.

Always so excited to read a new book by Sarah Moss and I think this is maybe her most accomplished yet. I loved the youthful buzz of Italy with the hot summer and dancing guests. The pregnancy storyline is dark, but sensitively done, that builds towards the themes of identity, belonging, innocence and betrayal. I also enjoyed the older character storyline which is less often seen in fiction. As usual, the writing was stunning!

What an opening scene! What a book! I really enjoyed this quiet, thoughtful story, the characters, the mystery. I would recommend it to anyone, but especially to people who enjoy carefully told family secrets.

Ripeness is Sarah Moss’s latest novel, a family saga spanning decades about family, home, and the decisions that define our lives.

Set in the 1960s, the story begins with young Edith, freshly out of school, journeying to the Italian countryside. Her mother has sent her with clear orders: to support her sister Lydia—a ballet dancer—through the last stages of her pregnancy, assist with the birth, and make a crucial phone call that will determine both the baby's and Lydia's futures. Years later, Edith is contentedly living in Ireland, divorced and reinvigorated by a new chapter in life. When her close friend Maebh hears from a man in America who claims to be her brother, she faces a life-altering choice and turns to Edith for guidance.

I really enjoyed Ripeness. I liked that the novel was split between 60’s Italy and modern Ireland and Edith’s thoughts on both, from her naïvety in Italy as a young woman to a wise older woman, a woman who has seen and understood a lot more than most.

My only criticism of Ripeness would be that it took forever for me to get into properly, especially the first few chapters set in the 1960s, they just felt kind of slow and flat.

The story is very moving and relatable, especially within the themes of feminism, politics, migration, and identity. I liked it a lot!

I’ve read some amazing books by Irish authors this year, and Ripeness is definitely one of them! I loved the dual timelines and especially the main character—a woman in her 70s who still has a boyfriend and a sex life. She was smart, funny, and refreshing. I didn’t love the ending, though—I’m not even sure what happened, or maybe that was the issue: nothing did? Still, I really enjoyed it overall and can’t wait to read more from Sarah Moss.

A young woman waiting for Oxford and her own life to begin is sent to her sister in Italy, who is in the last stages of a confinement she neither wants nor expected. She will improve her Italian language skills and try to fit in with her sister’s friends from the world of ballet, who are enjoying the summer in the borrowed villa, and the barely disguised disapproval of the staff and locals. It is the 1960s, and an unwanted pregnancy cannot be flaunted. This part is written in the first person narrative, and is expertly told from a young woman’s perspective. The present day story is much more knowing and reflective, she is living in Ireland and is happily divorced, but distanced from her own son. There are parallels with the past as someone else arrives from an unhappy start in life, and she must view her own past in a pragmatic way. The structure of the novel is beautifully put together, and her writing is outstanding, drawing the reader into this world she has created, so wonderfully described.

Ripeness by Sarah Moss

In the 1960s, 17 year old Edith travelled from the family farm in Derbyshire to a villa in Italy where her sister was waiting to give birth to a baby who would be given to an order of nuns to be adopted. Now in her 70s and living in County Clare, Ireland, Edith tells the story of that time, and we see her life now.

Exquisite writing and very thought-provoking, this novel was also a great story. I really enjoyed the themes of belonging, migration and families. It had particular resonance for me because I also lived in Ireland for many years and I'm English! I have written and deleted so many sentences here because I'm finding it impossible to capture the greatness of this novel! My only criticism is that I found the opening scene not in keeping with the rest of the book - it seemed to suggest a completely different darker direction for the story. But that's minor compared to the rest of the novel. Very VERY highly recommended.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for an ARC of this book.

I have read a number of books by Sarah Moss and so I was excited to have the opportunity to read this novel before publication courtesy of NetGalley. It did not disappoint. I really enjoyed the two timeframes with one narrator. I thought that it was a very effective and efficient way of seeing a character's life span. I had recently read Sarah Moss's memoir - My Good Bright Wolf and I enjoyed the parallels between her experience of Ireland as an immigrant and Edith's. Sarah Moss is a writer I seek out and will continue to do so. Her books live long in the memory and never fail to engage and entertain.

Edith, an Englishwoman with Jewish heritage, is living in the west of Ireland and recalling the time spent in an Italian villa with her sister Lydia while she awaits the birth of her child. This is a wonderful story with many many layers for Edith but also reflected in the life of her Irish friend Méabh. We are taken from 1960s Italy with holocaust undertones to contemporary Ireland and long lost brothers. Everyone looking to belong.

Well worth the read.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for this ARC. .

In 'Ripeness', Sarah Moss writes from two different time points. The first is in the current day, when Edith, now elderly lives in Ireland, but despite having lived there for many years, is still considered an immigrant. The second is in the 1960's when Edith travels to Italy to help her ballet dancing sister who is hauled up in an Italian villa about to give birth out of wedlock and give the baby away. These two time points interconnect, when Maebh Edith's friend, receives a telephone call from an American man who has identified through a DNA database that her mother was his mother. What initially appeared to be stories from two timepoints, becomes a narrative for Edith's sister's child.

I was initially entranced by Moss's writing style and quickly read the first fifth of the novel. I then started to wonder whether the story had a plot, or was just beautiful writing and as a consequence started to lose interest. However, something made me return to it, and I'm really glad I did. I particularly loved Edith's involvement in the birth of her sister's child and found myself very emotionally invested. For me this made the book. I also really liked the fact that Edith is an opinionated, sprightly older woman, who continues to have a good sex life. Some of Moss's thoughts via Edith did seem like a polemic, but as a fan of Ali Smith, I'm used to these injections. I was also reminded of Ali Smith's writing in the way that Moss wrote about ballet, and the idea that dance can't be written down, but instead has to be passed on, really stayed with me. All in all, I think this is a beautifully written literary novel.

I'm new to Sarah Moss and although I know this book will be big (I keep seeing pictures of it everywhere) but "Ripeness" was a struggle for me. I really enjoyed the part when Edith was younger and sent to stay with her pregnant sister in Italy. This was full of joys and hopes of a young person and the future that lay before them. The second part was difficult to follow as there were lots of very complicated Irish names, and the plot was dull. It did pick up when Maebh discovered she had a half-brother but it wasn't as good.

Moss infuses her fluid stream of consciousness style with compelling characters and evocative settings in this split-timeline story of family, lost and found. The plot is fairly slow, but the storytelling is sensitive and intelligent, with prose as poised as the ballet dancers at the centre of the story.

Perhaps what I love most about Moss' writing is her ability to conjure up a sense of place, and to render emotion through the use of poignant mise en scene. It's transportive, and the effect lingers with you long after close the book.

It's been a while since I've been properly absorbed by a novel, but it turns out Ripeness was just what I was waiting for.

This is an incredible book. Its setting takes you to Lake Como in the mid-sixties and to the West coast of contemporary Ireland, the actual time and place of narration.

The story is told by Edith, now in her seventies and living a simple but comfortable life in a village in rural Ireland. In this first strand of narration, we follow her musings about whatever happens in the world around her. Her thoughts also take us back into the past, when Edith with just seventeen travelled to Lake Como to support her sister during the last weeks of pregnancy and the birth of her baby. This is when the second strand kicks in.

Only at the end of the book it becomes clear that Edith’s thoughts are feeding into a long letter she writes for the nephew who was born during her stay in Italy. Since then, she had no contact with him and does not know where he lives, but still wants to leave this message in her will for the unlikely event that he might find her after her death. Its main focus is the question of identity – his identity – and who defines it, which he might come to question one day. She leaves him with the advice that he has always been the person he really is, that the making of a person is not based on their genes or parental nationality.

The story explores the concept of identity in many ways when she reflects about her mother, who immigrated to England just in time while the rest of her Jewish family died in the camps. She thinks about the hostility the villagers show towards the young men housed in a decrepit hotel now deemed to be adequate home office accommodation, different to the Ukrainians who were welcomed with open arms due to their identity - white, Christian, European. She also ponders her own position as an Englishwoman in Ireland, who – she feels – is tolerated and even liked, but will never be truly one of ‘them’.

Other themes, masterfully and subtly interwoven are questions of motherhood, family relationships, privilege and climate crisis, to mention only the main ones.

I found it incredibly hard to write this review since I didn’t seem to possess the vocabulary to do it justice. This book is exquisitely written, not one word is wasted, it is evocative and subtle, I simply loved it.

I am grateful to NetGalley and Picador for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.