You know that feeling when you pick up a book and are swept up immediately and all life around you melts away? This is one of those books. A cast of characters living out one day in a damp, raining Scotland. The reader slowly gets to know the different lives and personalities and they are so well described, you feel you’ve met them before. The overwhelming atmosphere of the dreek, damp and soggy forest is claustrophobic and again brilliantly described. The end is abrupt, a massive full stop. I loved it.

Cleverly written. I loved the moody feeling and how they are all connected somehow. What a brilliant, beautiful, book!

When the experienced reader approaches a new Sarah Moss novel they will be expecting writing that it deeply embedded with references to the landscape. A physical and geological landscape embedded with its plants, trees, birds, beasts and insects. Recognised as all living and interrelating and portrayed in detail of description and movement. Depicted in such a way that the reader is taken back to places of experience, so that the descriptions are almost viscerally re-created with atmosphere and weather too. This novel does not fail that test. Landscapes and their elements change and evolve over time, recognising that Moss will be aware of the issues of global warming changes and impacts and subtly feeds that quietly into her descriptions. But passing time is also an important sub-text.
The place of the novel’s location is in the Trossachs area of Scotland – more specifically within a holiday centre of wooden chalets. Aging, some are still owned and occupied by their original families, others are passing down the generations and others are now let out to temporary summer visitors. The time is a few days across a very rainy summer month. By passing from one set of residents to another; a selected few with usual habits restricted by the weather conditions, will reflect their activities and experiences of their holiday through their private thoughts. With time hanging heavy some will reflect on their previous visits to the centre decades previously, some will be using the exceptional holiday times to assess their current place within their families or partnerships, and some their current dreams and desires. Moss manages to almost seamlessly pass from one to another (and occasionally back) by linking different experiences of a seemingly simple meeting of a group of the children let outside to play unsupervised. So with no obvious major incident Moss will quietly and inexorably draw the reader through the full novel. She does this without great drama, but managing nevertheless to resuscitate great reams of the reader’s holiday (and other) deeper memories from simple and almost casual references to things of the past.
A person’s memory sits across time and the life one lives now. People review their back lives through the present and also live it various expectations of the future. The speed in which life seems to pass never seems fixed either. Families link across the generations and members might reference their current lives not just to their own past, but the historic tales of their antecedents. Life is made up too of the “normal” of a flow of often quite simple actions with no great drama. Although a person’s emotional reactions at times might be more erratic or out of kilter with that basic flow.
This is a deeply compelling and addictive tale. Simple in structure, it actually is deeply resonant. With its awareness of time and the recognition that the importance of individuals - or even all people - may not be the only issue in the turning of the world, it is a deeply moral work. Paralleled to the exploration of time passing is the question of what is truly important and of course how long does it take an individual to recognise the latter. So this novel resonates even after it is “finished” and the book closed.

Summerwater is a slim novella tracking the course of a single rainy day in a Scottish holiday park. Each section—somewhere between a vignette and a short story—follows a different guest, capturing that very specific ennui of ostensibly being on holiday but it’s bucketing down.

The writing is crisp, unfussy and flows easily, with an attentive third-person limited perspective (it’s a style that reminds me: I should read more Virginia Woolf). I found that my interest in the various characters fluctuated a lot and as a result, some chapters were terrific and others tedious.

My favourite was a mother of young kids has an unexpected hour all to herself, then squanders much of it by fretting over how to best use the time. Take a bath? Cup of tea? Definitely not cleaning, that would defeat the point! Very relatable and real.

It’s probably clear, this is the sort of book where very little happens... except that there is a dramatic event right at the end, affecting the whole park. The abrupt change of tone was quite jarring, and also a reminder that there is one group of guests whose story we never hear. The book was over before I could puzzle this out. Overall, I found Summerwater to be something of a mixed bag, but I am keen read this author again.

A wonderfully atmospheric moody window into a brief moment of time, with glorious utterly, believable characterisation. Summerwater is lIke a film in slow motion, with a growing sense of trepidation as you move towards the final moments where the dreamlike quality will suddenly speed up leaving you as if woken in shock from an unnerving dream.

I absolutely loved Sarah Moss’ Ghost Wall so I was excited to read this.

I am completely in love with Sarah Moss’ writing. It is so vivid and atmospheric and character driven. Every single character was so incredibly well-realised and relatable, even in such short chapters. I also loved the thread of satire that was woven through, and some bits were actually quite funny.

This is between a 4 and a 5 for me purely because I wish it had been longer. The book seems to build and build and build but I was a tiny bit unsatisfied by the ending and wanted something a bit more. However this doesn’t negate how absolutely brilliant it was.

I completely devoured this in an afternoon. The writing hooks you in so quickly and I couldn’t put it down. I can’t wait to read more Sarah Moss.

Thank you so much for a review copy of this book, it was fantastic. I read Ghost Wall in one sitting as I find the pace and rhythm of Sarah Moss’s writing almost hypnotic and it’s difficult to wrench my self out of the heads of her characters.
12 lodges on a rainy, dismal caravan park, 12 different reasons for being there, all exquisitely drawn. You know something dreadful is going to happen and halfway through the book you suspect it already has, but is that just a misdirection? You won’t find out until the end, because all the narrative voices need to be heard first so you have the full picture.
Distinct character voices take their turns. Running, wandering aimlessly, scrabbling for heartbreakingly elusive memories, trying to fill a childfree hour with something other than cleaning.......mesmerising stories that seem almost banal. You tend to gravitate towards the stories that resonate with you.
The noisy disruptive lodge inhabitants are voiceless. Othered. Just why becomes stunningly clear at the end. If they were knowable, if judgements hadn’t been made then maybe things would have turned out differently.

On the longest day of the summer, twelve people sit cooped up with their families in a faded Scottish cabin park. The endless rain leaves them with little to do but watch the other residents… It didn't tale much more than that to make this book appeal to me. Wet summer days in Scotland were part of my childhood. What Moss does with this novel is to tell us everyone's stories in this fleeting moment of time that that they are all sat coping with the weather. Some of the local wildlife get their own interludes too. The premise therefore is a simple one, but it is the execution which is the proof in the pudding. Moss is a wonderful writer, her prose is rich, her storytelling rooted in reality. These people come to life. In these brief vignettes, about marriage, depression, unfulfilled lives, teenage angst and more she give the reader enough information to want more, whilst also leaving you with a sense of foreboding. Great book from one of UK's best writers.

ARC from Netgalley

A beautifully written collection of thoughts and actions of a group of holidaymakers sharing a claustrophobic campsite in a rainy Scottish summer. The writing is so precise and so taut that you quickly become immersed in the lives of multiple characters and different perspectives as the book moves seamlessly from one character's viewpoint to another and the tension builds over a week of relentless rain and family squabbles. The shock of the ending is brutal,and so well done. Read this in awe of a writer working the height of her powers.

This is a beautifully written book and cleverly written from the different perspectives of a number of families all staying at the same Scottish log cabin park. Each narrative explores the individuals life and ups and downs but all entwine and meet together at the fateful end,

The story perfectly depicts the Scottish landscape including the endless rain. I think all the characters are perfectly relatable in their own way from the little girl to the teenage boy and to the elderly couple who have been staying in the same lodge for years. This book despite being a short story manges to explore a number of difficult issues from depression to dementia to people’s prejudices. This book isn’t a comfortable read but it is certainly a reflective read that will stay with you long after you’ve finished it.

Set in a faded holiday park on the shores of a loch, in the sort of relentlessly wet weather a Scottish summer does so well, Summerwater is told through the internal monologues of a cast of damp and mostly fractious holidaymakers - from young children to an elderly retired couple. Within a short space, Sarah Moss explores love, marriage, aging and disappointed expectations: the narrative winds through the groups of people, each incarcerated by the rain and watching the other chalets suspiciously. Not much happens for most of the book, but a remarkably oppressive and threatening atmosphere builds up as the novel heads towards its conclusion.

Perhaps not the most cheerful of reads, but one that sucks you in.

Thank you to Netgalley and Pan Macmillan for the eArc in exchange for an honest review.

This book is made up of 12 individuals perspectives and their musings over the course of one day. All these people are staying at a holiday park in Scotland. Firstly can we just talk about Sarah Waters writing style it's beautiful, her description and tone are so endearing.

The individual stories all felt incredibly genuine and 'real'. Some perspectives I enjoyed reading more than others. I imagine some may struggle with the lack of obvious plot as the read feels more meditative most of the time.

For a short read full of beautiful language I would certainly recommend!

<i>Things shouldn’t be made like that, unprotected, lying around waiting for sharp beaks and fleet wings, for boots and tires.</i>

I’d read one book by this author before (“Ghost Wall”) and was impressed by it, and found this book equally enjoyable and intriguing. Along with Jon McGregor’s "Reservoir 13", this is probably the most interesting book on the British ‘village’ mentality I’ve read in recent years. It's definitely a lot more subtle - less bombastic and grandiose - than Max Porter's "Lanny" (a novel I also really enjoyed, don't get me wrong, but I like the approach here more). I’m definitely going to read more of her work (“The Tidal Zone” has been on my TBR list for years).

<i>And if Nessie’s not in this particular loch, we have our own submerged monsters.</i>

The story has a great "In a Bamboo Grove"-esque set-up. It takes place in a Scottish camping park, over 24 hours, on a day where (true to form) it NEVER stops raining. We met the characters through a series of third-person monologues: a mother obsessed with running. A young woman who can’t stop thinking about Don Draper while having sex with her boyfriend, and worrying if fantasizing about fucking in a fancy Zanzibar hotel ‘colonial’ (this is arguably the novel’s funniest section). A mother who has an hour to herself, and can’t figure out what to do with this rare free time (pluck her nipple hair?). An old woman experiencing early Alzeihmer’s symptoms. A realistically melodramatic teenage girl. We meet husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters. It’s all very fair and balanced, and shows how successful fiction can be at creating a ‘community’ of different interiorities, and showing different perspectives.

A linking thread throughout the book is characters complaining about and/or encountering a group of Ukranians, who kept the campsite up too late the night before blasting music. It’s hard for me not to sympathise with the irritated characters, I’m afraid… I FUCKING HATE loud music in nature!!! But this definitely develops in a way you don’t expect, in a way I found very pleasing.

<i>Someone has to be the village, to say what’s normal.</i>

It’s tempting to read the Ukranian’s presence as a commentary on Brexit (particularly one girl’s treatment of a Ukranian girl her age, in a really strong sequence), and the campsite as a microcosm for Britain. The novel is really good at evoking a strong sense of dread as you read along (“Ghost Wall” was great at this too) - the feeling that something awful is going to happen at any minute. There are constant references to the apocalypse, to mass extinctions. To the sense of doom that is the fundamental reality of our 21st-century lives, and the feeling that an impending disaster of irrevocable proportions is on its way. And when a disaster does happen, the novel asks, how will we cope? How will we respond?

<i>What are you supposed to do if disarray and death come calling; what if things are, in fact, frightening?</i>

Throughout the book are short descriptive passages of nature that reminded me of "Reservoir 13" and "Ducks, Newburyport", in the sense that they put the characters and their petty squabbles within context of the wider natural world around them. There’s references to stars, bedrock, geological change. <i>“The land under our feet, beneath our buildings, roads, pipes, subway, subway systems, mines.”</i> A section about a starving peregrine falcon is particularly brutal :(

<i>What some would call the closeness of the community is also the challenge of living there. No privacy, nowhere to hide.</i>

I was very impressed by how subtle the novel is, how it doesn’t go the easy route. In some ways, though, this is also the novel’s weakness (thus proving Bruce Springsteen’s claim that your greatest strength is also your biggest vulnerability). I wondered at times if the book was being a little <i>too</i> subtle, too quiet. I wondered if the ending was too sudden - too out of the blue. I get the feeling that’s what the author wanted, though - something violent and brutal. Inexplicable and random. Not something cheesy that had lots of foreshadowing. Overall, I found myself genuinely surprised and pleased by how the ‘community’ responded in face of the disaster (particularly the young people - GO YOUNG PEOPLE!). The last sentence is an absolute killer. Overall, the metaphorical subtext could be teased out a tiny bit more, but at the same time I really appreciate how this book isn’t heavy handed

<i>Maybe that’s what we should all be doing here in the rain, having parties, getting to know the neighbours.</i>

In conclusion this is a fast, fun, short, and thoughtful read. I would recommend this but you should be aware going in you’re not going to have your hand held and things are not going to be spelled out for you (which is fine by me). This is clearly a writer who’s growing in strength and power.

My thanks to Pan Macmillan for an ARC via NetGalley.

“On the longest day of the summer, twelve people sit cooped up with their families in a faded Scottish cabin park. The endless rain leaves them with little to do but watch the other residents.”

This is a short, punchy, atmospheric novel. Curl up with this book near a window on a particularly wet and miserable day and you will feel like you have been transported to one of these lakeside cabins to spy on the restless holidaymakers.

Summerwater is the first Sarah Moss book that I’ve read, but it won't be the last.

Thank you, #NetGalley and Pan Macmillan for the free copy in exchange for an honest review.

Sarah Moss is brilliant at writing short, sharp pieces of prose which linger with you long after you've turned the final page. 'Summerwater,' is no exception. Set in a rather bleak sounding Scottish holiday park where the rain just will. not. stop, this isn't so much a novel as a multi-person stream of consciousness. Moss has a real knack for getting under the skin of people and writing about them in a way which feels real (I absolutely loved the scene where one of the characters is having sex and can't stop thinking about Don Draper in 'Mad Men,' and bacon rolls. Been there, done that.) Each person has their own problems, their own needs, their own desires, yet they're all exceedingly nosy about the lives of the people they've ended up with. There's a lot of curtain twitching which anyone who has lived in a small community can definitely relate to.

The blurb makes a big thing out of there being 'outsiders,' within the holiday park and they're referred to frequently in rather coded terms. We know they're Eastern European and that they like playing loud music at all hours of the night. We also know that one of them has a small child who we meet briefly in one of the chapters. Yet, they never feel as real as any of the other people we meet during 'Summerwater.' Perhaps this is a purposeful choice by Moss - we want them to see them as the others do, as outsiders and intruders. But it also means that when the novel hits its conclusion, it all feels very rushed. We're supposed to feel shock and sorrow at that final scene, but it doesn't hit its mark because we knew so little about them in the first place. As a result, 'Summerwater,' feels lacking.

Sarah Moss is an excellent writer. But despite it having many great moments, 'Summerwater' just doesn't hit the mark.

Sarah Moss is probably my favourite author of literary fiction, but Summerwater was unfortunately a disappointment for me. A short novel with multiple narrators, the common thread running between them seems to be a vituperative and bitter unhappiness which makes for tough reading.. The writing, as always with Moss, is beautiful, but the overwhelming sense is one of mundanity and the sudden and tragic ending only serves to add misery to the mundane.

I read this book three weeks ago, and still find myself thinking about it. A collection of chapters from the perspective of different people staying at a type of holiday park in Scotland, the landscape and emotions of a fairly bleak and very British type of holiday turns into a fascinating glimpse into people's lives, and particularly how they see each other. Teenagers, retirees, stressed parents, recent immigrants, all are described and we see their opinions form of each other. A beautifully written slice of life.

I wish to thank Sarah Moss, Pan Macmillan and NetGalley for the advanced copy of Summerwater in exchange for an honest review.

Set on a loch at the height of the Scottish summer, a group of holiday makers in a cabin park endure relentless rain. This is not a great advertisement for the Scottish tourist industry. Sarah Moss has written a brilliant book, it is incredibly unique with multiple narrators of all ages and species. There is tension, a feeling something bad is about to happen. The character development is impressive; the descriptive writing is some of the best I’ve read. There is one chapter I found to be very funny, possibly my quirky sense of humour. I highly recommend this short story.

The 'stream of consciousness' writing style might not be to everyone's taste, but it works well here. You get inside the various character's minds, not observing, but seeing their 'secret selves' - making the events come to life. The claustrophobic, ceaseless rain and wet - tarnishing what should be a welcome vacation break from their ordinary lives.

Sunshine would have much improved this cabin park in the Trossachs - though to be honest it would still be rather faded and the worse for wear. But these unfortunate souls chose the worse two weeks for their holidays. Unrelenting rain.  So much rain, drizzle, and dampness that I felt quite soggy after reading this captivating little book and should really check myself for mildew.

The writing was incredible. "The sky turned a yellowish shade of grey, the colour of bandages, or thickened skin old old white feet. Rain simmers in puddles. Trees drip. Grass lies low, some of it beginning to drown in pooling water..."

Because the narrative was divided in the manner it was, it reads almost like a collection of linked short stories. Linked in that the various residents of the holiday park all come together in the end in what was, for me, an ending that was both memorable and chilling.

Sarah Moss has granted us a glimpse into the lives and thoughts of various different people here. They are all very genuine and uncompromisingly 'real'. Their stories portray the author's keen understanding of human nature. Literary fiction that engenders empathy in the reader is to be recommended.  Well done!

This is just what I expect from a Sarah Moss book, a story you can disappear into from the very start. The setting of Summerwater in a Scottish holiday park is great, and the variety of characters really interesting. It reads almost as short stories as each chapter introduces us to a different character in one of the chalets, and is reminiscent of Elizabeth Strout.

Emotive, captivating and a really enjoyable read.