Review by Mariella Bucci of "Rottenheart" by Kat Dunn

After chomping through Hungerstone and going to Kat Dunn’s author talk in Birmingham Waterstones, I picked up a signed copy of her new novel Rottenheart, a Victorian sapphic retelling of Hamlet with a fun gender-swapped twist. Somehow, despite Hungerstone being a violent vampiric tale, this one felt notably darker, which perhaps makes sense considering the prevalent themes of grief, hysteria and corruption woven through the original play and this Victorian version. 

Something that really stuck with me during Dunn’s talk was the concept of ghosts as the mind becoming an unreliable narrator, conjuring visions that reflect a tormented inner psyche and the terror of no longer being able to trust your own senses. Without spoiling the ending, this certainly comes through clearly in Rottenheart, with Odette’s haunting grief turning her to a revenge-driven shadow of herself, and the tragic Cecilia as she tries to pull her lover back from the brink. 

I particularly enjoyed the disjointed structure of the novel, jumping back and forth in time from either side of Lydia’s death, and how even the villains contained a fraction more nuance and depth compared to those in Hungerstone. My only complaint would be it was a touch long with little action in places, but I suppose that is only accurate to the themes of the original play after all – and here, the hesitation actually makes sense considering the gender-swap, and only adds to the poignancy of Odette’s pain as she rails to be understood by a society that discounts her female perspective over and over again.

About the reviewer

Mariella Bucci is a writer and creative based in the West Midlands. She is drawn to the understanding and analysis of what makes a compelling story in any medium, from her work in the film and television industry to essays and reviews on her Substack, @mariellamusings. Offline, you will most often find her nose-deep in a novel between sets at the gym.

Review by Mariella Bucci of "Hungerstone" by Kat Dunn

I discovered this sapphic retelling of Carmilla by Sheridan le Fanu via a YouTube video by one of my favourite cultural analysis creators Shanspeare, titled "Let Women Eat (Flesh): Cannibalism in Fiction." Within two chapters of reading, I experienced the same voracious hunger for this story that both Shania and the novel’s protagonist, Lenore, cannot quell. 

Dunn has a beautiful and intriguing narrative voice, crafting landscape and character and dialogue in scenes that read like haunting Gothic tapestries. Hungerstone is a Bayeux-like narrative that tracks Lenore’s journey towards reclaiming her power, against the backdrop of a life of people-pleasing and suppressing her deepest desires and wants. Like all good Gothic literature – and it was my specialist subject in my Literature degree – the cast is suitably archetypal, from the villainous husband Henry to the waifish, naive friend Cora. But the star of the show is of course, Carmilla herself. Dunn never uses the word "vampire," but she doesn’t need to. Carmilla is romantic, seductive and transgressive, and you feel the shift from annoyance to empowerment in Lenore from Carmilla’s careful encouragement / manipulation.

The novel is medium-paced, with the plot interspersed by flashbacks to Lenore’s childhood, and the ending is appropriately gory and thoroughly satisfying. Even though I read this in the height of summer, I already feel an autumnal, rain-spattered, candlelit re-read coming – as Dunn surely intended.

About the reviewer

Mariella Bucci is a writer and creative based in the West Midlands. She is drawn to the understanding and analysis of what makes a compelling story in any medium, from her work in the film and television industry to essays and reviews on her Substack, @mariellamusings. Offline, you will most often find her nose-deep in a novel between sets at the gym.

Review by Hannah Kimmins of "Ordinary Saints" by Niamh Ní Mhaoileoin

"The first time I kissed a girl, my brother died": Years after her older brother Ferdia’s tragic death, Jay has moved from her hometown in Ireland and is living in London with her girlfriend, trying to live her most authentic life without religious constriction. However, when her parents inform her that there’s a campaign to canonise Ferdia, she can no longer run away from her grief. What follows is a battle between her brother’s death and her own life. 

Ordinary Saints is anything but ordinary. It is a complex, messy yet measured conversation about the role of religion in society and how it can both bring families together and tear them apart. Jay could also be described by these three words: complex, messy, yet measured. The author never lets you get too close to her, which from my perspective is purposeful - you never fully sympathise with her, or her parents, or even Ferdia. You see all of their beauty and their flaws, and the debate becomes more about the role of religion from a micro and macro lens rather than the morals of the individuals, which helps the reader form their own opinion. The humans are at the heart of the story; not God. 

This is a truly special story, and a truly accomplished debut novel from Niamh Ní Mhaoileoin. Despite the main story being about sainthood, reading it felt overwhelmingly real - like it could happen to you, or a friend, or someone in your community. It also contemplated the relationship between queerness and Catholicism, succeeding in not pitching them against each other, but instead finding where they intersect. Once again, the reader is encouraged to form their own opinions on the characters and concepts within the novel. Do not be mistaken; this novel is not neutral. It has a voice. However, the reader is encouraged to have their own voice too. 

If you’re looking for an original story that will stay with you long after you’ve turned the last page, Ordinary Saints is a modern gem that should not be missed. 

About the reviewer
Hannah Kimmins is a scouse writer and was a Waterstones bookseller for 7 years. She has been reviewing books since she was 15 years old, and continues to live and breathe books. She has a Masters degree in English and is graduating with a Masters in Psychology this year. More than anything else, she loves to learn.