Review by Nancy Dawkins of "In Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens" by Katherine Howey

"Beggin’ pardon, Miss, why’s a respectable young lady like you a-going to the Pleasure Gardens? Don’t you know they has the most prodigious bad reputation, and ain’t no place for a lady unaccompanied?" Katherine Howey’s debut novel, In Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, follows Lucinda, a young soldier’s daughter, who arrives in London in the late 1700s after fleeing the American Revolutionary wars. Lucinda begins, it seems, as a typical historical heroine: naïve, thrown into a new and unfamiliar world, tasked with learning a new job as a seamstress. Her forays into society and the meeting of a wealthy gentlemen may set a reader up to believe that a Cinderella story is about to unfold. Perhaps, after meeting with a few trifling difficulties, Lucinda will get married and all will be tied in a neat Austen-like bow? But who is the mysterious doctor, William Browne, who bursts, singing and swinging, onto the page? 

The realities of being a woman in the eighteenth century, and of the harsh divisions of class in that time, become immediately apparent as Lucinda’s fairytale turns dark. A sudden and misunderstood illness strikes Lucinda, leaving her unable to perform her roles, either as a seamstress, or as an eligible woman in society. What follows for Lucinda is a Dickensian fall through the cracks of London. For a modern reader, it is clear that Lucinda’s illness resembles a chronic disability like M. E. or fibromyalgia, but to her contemporaries in the book, her illness is incomprehensible, appearing fabricated even. In Vauxhall pleasure Garden does not shy away from the traumatic realities of being a young woman, alone and disabled, in times gone by. Lucinda is not a perfect heroine, she is frequently disempowered, doesn’t know where to turn, and chooses the wrong people to trust. Nevertheless, she manages to support herself in inventive ways, and forge friendships and a life, however unconventional. 

In Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens tells a story that is often missing from historical fiction, the story of a woman who did not, and who because of disability could not, follow the paths laid out for women in that time, but who managed to survive. I finished the novel, the first in a series, ready to read the second, wondering what lies ahead for Lucinda; what really happened to William Browne, will Alex Henderson find her at the Inn, and will she see Jem again?

About the reviewer
Nancy Dawkins is a poet and musician from Leicester. Her writing has been published in print and online, including in The Leicester Literary Review and Heroica. She was shortlisted for the inaugural role of Leicester Poet Laureate in 2025, and was longlisted for the Glastonbury Emerging Talent Competition 2024. 

You can read more about In Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens by Katherine Howey on Creative Writing at Leicester here. 

Review by Jonathan Wilkins of "Monstrum" by Lottie Mills

I read Lottie Mills’ debut collection Monstrum in a couple of sittings. The stories are that good! They explore what is monstrous, and what we may perceive as otherness. They challenge the reader and society to re-examine all of our deep rooted assumptions. Every single beautifully crafted story is an eerie, gripping and alluring message to our world. And each is unequivocally strong in its own right, unique but connected through the theme of disability and the monstrous, because Mills shows us that being different doesn’t mean we are worse than what might be perceived as the norm. It might be that Monstrum isn’t for every reader, but it is worth every reader having a go. 

"The Mirror" shows a young girl doing the shopping for her supposedly monstrous mistress. Through her small acts of kindness, she makes the relationship work and rejects this conception of monstrosity. There is an implied sexual relationship in the story, and a poignant ending. 

"The Changeling," the opening story, sticks with the reader long after they finish and we can see why it was a prize winner. It’s a sublime, ethereal tale about deformity and physical change, and asks what are our expectations of what we see as normal. The writing is evocative and clear. 

In "The Cuckoo," as the title implies, we are confronted by a strange child who infiltrates a household, and removes the protagonist from her own life with weird ease. This is psychological horror story demonstrating the terror of being replaced, unseen, unprotected. 

"The Body" features a particularly belligerent attitude towards disability. It is set in a world where you can ask for, or purchase a new body. The main character in this story finds it difficult to let go of her old body and struggles to cope with the physical changes that come with a new non-disabled body. When she uses her old wheelchair, it is a particularly discordant moment. She finds that her new, whole body no longer has the muscle memory her original one had, and she is forced to relearn much of what used to be  habitual, her own "normal." Mills never takes the easy way out. She examines how this is not an easy solution and the myriad struggles that it brings with it. The main character is confronted when others find out about her original disabled body, and the complex relationship she now has with the new body.

Mills has shown the reader a world where inhumanity often comes from the ordinary, and where we can see kindness and warmth in those that we have been taught to fear. The result is a beautifully strong collection of stories that are heartbreaking at times as well as being intellectually rigorous, and written in prose that is so pure that it is almost perfection. Monstrum is a critical, politically sensitive piece of disability literature disguised as gothic nightmare, grotesque theatre. Mills invites us into her darkness, and we cannot escape, demanding we see the beauty, potential, power and provocation flourishing there. It is a dazzling, remarkable debut.

About the reviewer
Jonathan Wilkins is 69. He is married to the gorgeous Annie with two wonderful sons. He was a teacher for twenty years, a Waterstones’ bookseller and coached women’s basketball for over thirty years before taking up writing seriously. Nowadays he takes notes for students with Special Needs at Leicester and Warwick Universities. He has had a work commissioned by the UK Arts Council and several pieces published traditionally as well as on-line. He has had poems in magazines and anthologies, art galleries, studios, museums and at Huddersfield Railway Station. He loves writing poetry. For his MA, he wrote a crime novel, Utrecht Snow. He followed it up with Utrecht Rain, and is now writing a third part. He is currently writing a crime series, Poppy Knows Best, set at the end of the Great War and into the early 1920s.