Milk

In this powerful book, the author recounts her experiences as a woman and a new mother while peering back into her past as well as that of the older women in her family and in Ireland. She has long suffered from serious depression and anxiety, which was exacerbated by both the trauma of giving birth and of new motherhood, both of which she is unprepared for. She has an unexpected caesarean without adequate pain relief as the doctor dismissed her statements that she was in excruciating pain, insisting that she could not actually feel anything. Once she was at home with the new baby, her anxiety went through the roof, preventing her from sleep and normal functioning. She also lost part of her identity when she could not focus on the words that have sustained her as a reader, writer, poet.

The book is written in short staccato sentences that jump rapidly from one thought to another. This style heightens the readers understanding of how she feels--there are no long meditative passages here.

In the author's note at the beginning, she states,' I don't call this book fiction, as I at no point intentionally made anything up, but I wouldn't be bold enough to call it fact either. It is what it is, the at times chaotic musings of a woman trying to write her way out of madness..'

That sums it up well. when I was in grad school a few decades ago, I did research on the ideology of motherhood among white suburban US women. Although Alice Kinsella is Irish, and is much younger than the women I interviewed, the issues were the same. Perhaps one day things will change. this book is well worth reading.

Milk highlights the numerous failings of systems which should be there to protect women, but, instead, work against new mothers, leaving them feeling trapped and anxious at a time when there should be the maximum support available.

The structure of Alice Kinsella's work reflects how a new mother's mind jumps here and there, unable to focus on one thing in particular. Sleep deprivation alone can do this, but once you add in the responsibility of caring and feeding a young baby, it's no surprise that more than a bullet point of information can seem overwhelming.

I really enjoyed this account of the author's experience, and whilst I fully agree with the animal rights issues surrounding dairy milk, I felt that part of the book was shoe-horned in, rather than being a natural addition. But, on the whole, I would highly recommend this book.

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

Beautifully written, as is to be expected from a poet! I'ts very interesting to see this generation of young mothers establish themselves and their lives in print and is a worthy addition to the genre

This is an extraordinary telling of the realities of new motherhood, the anxieties it brings and what will keep you up at night. It is raw and honest, confronting things that some women may not even be able to admit to themselves. This is Kinsella opening her arms to all the mothers out there, saying come here and let’s share our experience, and chances are you’ll find similarities and realise you are not as alone as you first felt.
This really is a great memoir, Kinsella’s writing style is disjointed but reflects her state of mind, flickering from thought to thought. She also explores political issues in Ireland and the impact of these on the lives of women.
I thought this was a brilliant and eye opening read into motherhood, and would recommend to many. Definitely a five star read.

Kinsella's debut prose novel is a slippery one to categorise, not just in content, but in form. As she states at the beginning "everything in this book is refutable... I don't call this book fiction, as I at no point intentionally made anything up, but I would not be bold enough to claim it as fact, either". She makes no bones about what the reader is getting here; this is not going to be a straightforward memoir about motherhood. It’s a memoir of sorts, concerned with the author’s first pregnancy and her son’s first months of life. It flits from thought to thought, time to time, narrative slipping away from the reader as it did from the new mother. The result is a compelling and powerful read as well as a deeply personal one.

Kinsella is also a poet, and her mastery of language is on display here. Milk plays with form , italics and brackets slip-sliding around the page. But to the author’s credit, it never feels overdone or pretentious, merely adding to the sense of an anxious brain narrating this work. It really worked for me, in a way that form-bending works often don’t, and the result is a book that feels like a hurricane.

I was slightly apprehensive about reading this one; I am not a mother, and so I worried I would not connect with it. But the depth and breadth of human experience - and female experience - between this pages meant that I needn't have. As well as new motherhood, Kinsella is pre-occupied with a woman's place in a chang(ing)(ed?) Ireland.

Chapters considering the weight of Ireland's history on pregnancy and birth are stirring, infuriating, and profoundly harrowing. The Magadalene Laundries, Mother and Baby Homes and recent Repeal referendum are all on Kinsella’s mind as she waits for her son to be born, and her discussion on the push-pull of feeling “ardently pro-choice…[and wanting] to protect this baby, my baby” is so profound to read; she is articulating long-whispered thoughts and conversations, adding them to the page and not turning away. On a related topic, Kinsella writes with clarity and emotion about her own mental health difficulties and the impact they had on her pregnancy and new motherhood. I am far from a mother, but the way she depicts her brain’s (mal?)functions took my breath away.

Milk is a profoundly beautiful, haunting read that I am still thinking about long after I’ve finished it. It's An ode to Motherhood - Kinsella’s own mother takes centre stage in the novel, and her support of new mum and baby is another topic for discussion that fascinated me. Irish women, more and more, rely on mothers to raise their babies; this arrangement, though common, has its own complexities, and as someone who spent a lot of time with their granny pre-school age, it allowed me to consider that relationship - between me, my mum, and my granny - in a whole new light. The best books reach out from the page and show you something new about yourself, and I think Alice Kinsella has nailed that here. Reading Milk was a profound experience for me. Kinsella has captured the fractured terror and boundless love that motherhood brings to a tee, while still creating a world that will be compelling to any reader, mother or no. A stunning book that deserves to be one of the most lauded of 2023.

A raw description on the life-altering step of becoming a mother, the power of women, and the failings of society experienced by women. Alice Kinsella's debut is a powerful read I had to step away from it for a number of weeks as a lot of the writing resonated with my own experiences. The style of writing takes a bit of adjustment to get used to but the scattergun style captures so beautifully the mind of a new mother. The timeline changes from chapter to chapter described in terms of +/- months of the birth of her child and captures the impact it has on most of all her mind sometimes beautiful and sometimes heartbreaking. Kinsella also portrays the barriers to women in society with a focus on her journey to become a mother.
Fans of Doireann ni Ghriofa's "A Ghost in the throat" will find much to love in this. A wonderful debut.

What does it mean to give birth and be a mother how does it change you and your relationship with the world around you. This book is about modern mother's in Ireland but thinks back to historical representations of mother's, birth and conception.
I found it very easy to relate to and interesting to hear a voice I hadn't heard before. The Irish mother can be used as a cliche and this puts a new modern spin on that.