It’s been a moment since I’ve done one of these.
And I want to address something first. Someone asked me why I never tell people the books to avoid, the ones I don’t like or thought were rubbish. It’s quite simple really.
I do.
Ask me in person to tell you about books I didn’t enjoy or thought were crap etc and boy, get ready because I’m about to go off.
But I don’t need to put that on the internet. The Internet is already full of enough garbage fire. No more negativity needed thank you very much.
So I’m not ‘lying’ about reading shitty books. Trust me there’s loads. What I am doing is omitting. Not adding to the garbage fire. That shit smells bad enough already.
And that leads us nicely onto Gallant, by one V.E Schwab.
Olivia Prior has always been alone. No friends at all, no family to speak of and no voice. And I mean that literally by the way. Olivia is completely nonverbal, being able to communicate only through sign, and when no one else bothers to learn, it’s a lonely existence.
Especially when the ghouls she can see all around, her most constant companions, are as silent as she is.
Then one day a letter arrives at the school for girls Olivia has been living at as long as she can remember. A letter from an Uncle she’s never heard of, inviting her to an estate – a home she has never seen; Gallant.
The only thing Olivia has of her mother is her old journal which, as far as she knows, documents the woman’s sad decline into madness. But one instruction is very clear… stay away from Gallant, Olivia.
So what do you do when you’re only chance at family and freedom is being invited to stay at the one place your mysterious mother says you must never go?
I’ve reviewed Schwab’s work before (See ‘The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue’ link on my post page) and have many, many plans to read more of her nigh on 33 different works. But even having only read two, for now, I can say that she has one of the most distinct styles of voice I have read and Gallant is the shining example of that. It is poetry turned to prose and practically lyrical in substance and I cannot think of another book written more beautifully.
I find it hard to believe that anyone wouldn’t fall in love with Olivia. She has no voice but says volumes and brings you into the world in which she exists. There is wit and kindness, rage and desperation to belong somewhere, anywhere, with someone, anyone.
Bring tissues, a good cup of tea, don’t answer any mysterious summons and please whatever you do; Do not go through the door.
Welcome to Gallant.
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