Having won the coveted Booker Prize in 2019, it’s likely the name Bernardine Evaristo has come up once or twice as a book recommendation. If you were still in any doubt over whether to read the outstanding Girl, Woman, Other hopefully, this is last bit of convincing you need.
Evaristo’s eighth book is a deeply human, joyful yet harrowing exploration of life in modern-day Britain. Across twelve characters, we get a chapter-long glimpse into the lives of characters with vastly different perspectives and situations, yet who are all linked with each other. Sometimes the relationships are overt (a daughter or a best friend) and at other times are subtle (a work colleague). While it can be hard to keep up at times, Evaristo gives us a gentle reminder of where we are and who we’re thinking about. Girl, Woman, Other is complex yet unpretentious, hopeful yet honest – even the way it’s written is unique, reading like poetry with very few full stops and no quotation marks.
The novel serves to show how we all have our own lives, our own perspectives and how the bias of our own perspective alters our storytelling. The magic of Girl, Woman, Other is not because of grandiose plot twists or caricatured characters, it’s because of their complexity yet complete authenticity. You might not adore every person you encounter (no spoilers for which ones the majority of us probably think of), but you get such an insight into their mind that you can begin to understand their viewpoints, even if you find their perspective problematic.
Exploring the intersections of class, race, gender and sexuality, each of the twelve characters we encounter offers a different insight into life as a black woman/non-binary person in Britain over multiple generations. It explores problems and debates that some readers will relate to from their personal lives, but will likely introduce most readers to a problem or a debate that they haven’t had to think about before. As a woman, I felt winded by the articulate way in which Evaristo navigates the discussion of gender roles. But as a straight white woman, I am grateful to have read the perspectives of black women exploring their sexuality, race and class. It’s been a wake-up call for me that so often, the words I read are written by white authors writing white characters. It’s time to question and change that, for sure.
Girl, Woman, Other is a book you’ll keep coming back to, whether it’s to revel in the ability Evaristo has to develop a character over a mere few pages, or her poetic writing that feels like you’re in the crevices of the character’s minds. It’s a book that will hold poignance for years to come, and one that has certainly changed my life.
Words by Kat Smith
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