Soldier Sailor: Longlisted for the Women's Prize 2024

This book was a difficult read. It really tries to get the reader to feel the desperate situation of Soldier, so much so that the frustration, exhaustion, and monotony can sometimes be difficult to get through. By the end I felt it had been worth the effort. Rather than a good story, it offered me a chance to contemplate my own family - whether I wanted it or not! Although the experience described is not universal, I'm sure it would provoke similar thoughts in anyone reading it.

I’m voting for this to win! I found this book totally compelling, and, although there is perhaps little in the way of a traditional beginning-middle-end narrative, I couldn’t put it down. Despite never having had children or brought any up, I found myself immediately immersed and engaged with the narrator’s struggles to come to terms with her new role as a woman suffering from sleep deprivation, depression (whether post-natal as Soldier’s husband suggests, or life-is-shit depression as she feels it to be), and a high degree of mourning for her pre-Sailor life. That I was so gripped is testament to the visceral quality of the writing. Even without any direct experience of what it is like to be a new mother, I felt the range of emotions portrayed and the randomness and disjointed nature of some of Soldier’s thoughts, many self-castigating, many reflecting on “better” times, many told with a wry sense of humour (see the turnip episode below) and an appreciation that her view of things may be skewed, rang very true. I was very much in the moment with the narrator as she was relating almost every situation. I panicked with her when Sailor got lost in IKEA, when he had a high fever in the night, when he banged his head, and totally understood the inability to think straight with her child howling in her ear. Some of the scenarios she describes I can directly relate to - even as a non-mother. For example, trying to keep up with a superfast supermarket checkout assistant who delivers items not in the order in which they need to be packed; and attempting and failing to cut a turnip, or swede to those not of Irish or Scottish extraction – “Alas, poor Yorick, I knew him well” - with an ordinary knife and having to reach for one which is so sharp it causes a cervical wince. Perhaps the narrator was not entirely reliable, as is so often the case with first person narratives, and we do only really see her side of the story (was her husband as useless/unsupportive/unhelpful as she makes out?) but her voice is very believable – an honest reflection of how she felt at that moment in time. And she is sufficiently self-aware to acknowledge, sometimes at the time and sometimes later in the book, that some of the scenes she describes are not real. After reading the book I had some questions: Does the title, with its reference to the nursery rhyme have significance other than to give the main characters their ‘names’. Why are none of the characters given proper names, but referred to as Soldier, Sailor, Husband, Friend, etc.? Did Soldier’s Friend exist in actuality in any part of the story? Why is he clearly fictional/imagined in the night-time episode on the shore? What is the significance of the references to David Bowie throughout? Does the punctuation in Chapter Nine indicate something about Soldier’s state of mind? We covered some of these in our Book Group discussions; some were answered, and some not entirely. I struggled with the ending of the book, but having heard others talk about this, and having listened to the Audible version, I have totally changed my mind and think it is light at the end of a very dark period in Soldier’s life and a hymn to her love for her son. This is a raw, unsentimental account, often hard to read, but which is not without humour and a bit of irony. A tale exceedingly well told, with a message for us all about love, identity, gender stereotyping, and, of course, motherhood.

This isn't my kind of book, but I read it because it is on the shortlist for The Womens Prize for Fiction. And I'm glad that I did. Claire Kilroy conveys - intensely, in concentrated form, absolutely measured, beautifully balanced - a mother's love. Not some nineteenth century sentimentality but an overwhelming inescapable reality. I have never been a mother, but I have been a nanny and as a woman I have attempted to empathise as far as I am able. So the grinding boredom, self questioning and exhaustion are a little bit familiar. And I am a child of a mother. So when Soldier survives the first few years (taking the reader along with her) the revelation of love in the final chapter is one I can - almost anyone can - truly relate to. Reading, for me, is about gaining a better understanding of the human condition. Trying to understand other people and what they are living. Claire Kilroy helped me to do this. And helped me to understand my mother and love her better, too.

Oh my goodness, I loved this book. It is honest, insightful, moving, compelling, at times overwhelming and raw! There is time for a smile too. I was completely entranced and living and trying to breathe with the narrator. A wonderful, frank and fearless text exploring the emotions, struggles and ‘identity’ of early motherhood. I couldn’t put it down and almost held my breath until I finished. Many of our book group felt the same and we are hopeful for Claire Kilroy to receive well-deserved plaudits, including the Women's Prize 2024

I'm voting for this to win! I found this book totally compelling, and, although there is perhaps little in the way of a traditional beginning-middle-end narrative, I couldn't put it down. That I was so gripped is testament to the almost visceral quality of the writing. Although I have no personal experience of what it is like to be a new mother struggling to cope, I felt the range of emotions portrayed and the randomness of some thoughts, many told with humour, rang very true. I was very much in the moment with the narrator as she was describing situations and scenarios almost all the way through but did find the very last part of the book less successful. Perhaps the narrator was not entirely reliable, as is so often the case with first person narratives, and we do only really see her side of the story (was her husband as useless/unsupportive/unhelpful as she makes out?) but her voice is very believable, particularly since she acknowledges that some of the scenes she describes are not real. I have some questions that I would love to discuss in Book Group: Why do you think none of the characters are given proper names, but referred to as Soldier, Sailor, Husband, Friend, etc.? At what time in Sailor's life is Soldier narrating the story? Did Soldier's Friend exist in actuality in any part of the story, and why is he fictional/imagined in another part? Did Soldier's Husband leave or not? And if he left, why does he re-appear in Chapter Nine? What is happening to Soldier in Chapter Nine? Does the punctuation in Chapter Nine indicate something about Soldier's state of mind? A short book, but thought provoking in so many different ways.