Fledgling

A compelling, tender, unforgettable portrait of a challenging father (and a son's relationship with him), juxtaposed with stunning, sometimes disturbing vignettes of the natural world. With controlled, precise, evocative, but always unexpected prose, this debut novel evokes an alienated rural childhood and adolescence, as well as the grief of losing a parent.

Stuart is raised on a nature reserve in Cumbria; his family is poor. Stuart is sensitive – endlessly bullied in school, he believes in magic and feels more comfortable taking dance class than playing football. Stuart grows up straddling two worlds, becoming the first in his family to go to university. His father, an ex-con, is quick to throw a punch, and won't eat anything in public ‘more flamboyant than a ploughman's’ in case someone would take him for a ‘nancy-boy’. An avid birdwatcher, he has found peace in his new life as a caretaker for a nature reserve.

When his father is diagnosed with terminal cancer, Stuart grapples with grief as he tries to become the man he thinks his father would want him to be. Interwoven in the narrative are snippets of British wildlife, particularly the birds that captivate Stuart and his father, and reflect the bond they share.

The writing is surprising, hilarious, and devastating. This is a story about grief, about masculinity, about the love of a parent and what remains when they're gone.