Evie Wyld's The Bass Rock connects the lives of three central female characters to time and place. It is both psychologically insightful and heartbreakingly sad. A great read.

Loved this book! So atmospheric and full of interesting characters. Full review to come which will be published on waterstones.com upon return to work.

‘The Bass Rock’ by Evie Wyld is set in North Berwick, a small town to the east of Edinburgh and focuses on, for the most part, the lives of three women: Sarah, denounced as a witch several hundred years earlier , Ruth, newly-married and a newcomer to the area after WWII, and Viviane, a Londoner, house sitting in the present day. All three experience male abuse, as do a number of unnamed women who make fleeting appearances in the novel, sometimes in their own time, sometimes as ghosts.
Evie Wyld is an extremely talented writer whose use of everyday details and observations grounds her characters in reality. Descriptions of Betty’s oven-fresh shortbread, greedily snatched by nosey housewives visiting Ruth, and Viviane’s spur of the moment visits to the supermarket are all part of what emphasises their lack of direction. We believe in these women and what they’re going through. Wyld also uses Gothic tropes to reinforce lingering unhappiness, the overpowering patriarchy, a miasma of madness. Some of these work better than others. The fleeting girl with red hair is a presence in the house; her ghost seems entirely appropriate. However, Wyld’s repeated wolves/foxes metaphor is clumsy and the eccentric priest would be a caricature were he not so dangerous.
In many respects, this is a novel to savour. It celebrates the power of female friendship; it reminds us that there’s nothing good about ‘becoming a man’ if it means having to stamp on vulnerability or see off sensitivity; it highlights the importance of nurturing children. However, I found myself wishing at times that ‘The Bass Rock’ had been a slightly different story. The ‘Sarah’ sections were so much weaker than those of Ruth and Viviane, not least because the characters were types rather than individuals and the woods were anywhere in any time. The contrast felt out of kilter with the narrative as a whole. The occasional tales of other abused women – the wardrobe, the suitcase – did little to strengthen the overall narrative. They felt rather as if they were once abandoned sections that had been repurposed. Overall, I would urge people to read this memorable novel; just forgive its unevenness.
My thanks to NetGalley and Random House UK, Vintage Publishing for a copy of this novel in exchange for a fair review.

The Bass Rock examines toxic masculinity through the ages. This is a dark and sometimes terrifying but deeply satisfying story which, surprisingly, has some very funny moments, particularly in the present day timeline. The characters are complex and interesting and the novel left me with a sense of sadness but ultimately hope.

I would exactly say I enjoyed the book. But I also don’t dislike it too much.
It’s nicely written from different point of view‘s as well as different times in history. Three women‘s stories are told- but I struggled to relate the story about Sarah to the other two strands of the narrative.
I liked how the story tried to bring in mystic vibes but in my opinion it didn’t succeed.
The title of the book led me to believe that Bass Rock would have some kind of significance to the story and the characters but I couldn’t spot a relevance- other than two characters regularly looking at the protruding rock.

This book wasn't for me as i found the tone jumping all over the place and i just found the voices of the characters to be a bit too inconsistent. The writing was fine but it didn't really hold my interest too long.

An unsettling, brilliantly written novel. The themes of men’s violence towards women, witchcraft, gothic storytelling, all are contained in The Bass Rock, and all sound as if they would make for a heavy read. I don’t know how Evie Wyld weaves her writing magic, but from these dark ingredients she has created a page turner with some very funny moments among the harder to read sections. I loved Viv and Ruth’s sections particularly (Viv’s a contemporary first person narration and Ruth’s set post war). She loops between these time periods and Sarah’s story set the 1700s, connecting the stories into a deeply satisfying whole. There are some great characters in this book, a couple of good (but damaged) men amongst the monsters and a wonderful sometime sex worker and full time witch who I just loved.

There are several strands to this unsettling book. It's hard to categorise as there are thriller elements (a body in a suitcase, several murders etc) Gothic elements (Wolfman, ghosts, crows etc) . What unites the elements are the themes of femicide, violence to women, coercion and women finding their own identities.

The first strand is about Viviane who seems to have experienced a mental health crisis. She goes to a house near Bass Rock which another character Ruth has lived in following her marriage to a widowed man with two young sons. Then going back centuries ,there is the story of Sarah. I was puzzled where another story strand fitted in- a woman whose husband shut her in the wardrobe?

The strands interweave but for me the Sarah thread didn't fit in so well. I am sure I missed something about the use of location. What is the particular significance of the Bass Rock itself?
Each of the women experiences abuse from men. In Viviane's "date" the sex turns from consensual into something else. Her sister eventually flees from coercive control including one memorable scene in which her husband is pressed ,raging, against the window of a departing train.
Viviane has made friends with Maggie who provides more stories about woman who have been raped, abused or murdered. Maggie is an intriguing creation as a minor character.

Ruth has had her own experiences of mental health issues following the death of her bleoved brother. She is attracted to a widower with two young sons who seems charming but gradually reveals himself as an abuser.

However it is not just the women who have been abused but his sons too, There are also ,for the sake of balance, the boys themselves growing up to be kind and caring young men


The Sarah strand I found confusing as it was hard to "place "it. It sounded like she is rescued from being gang raped but the rescuer then turns abuser.

All of this paints it as a dark book and I can't deny that this is true for me. "Raw and difficult but maybe it needs to be as women still are more likely to be abused . Maybe there is a sense of hope as Viviane and her sister both start new lives away from the men .

The Bass Rock is based around three different women: Sarah, Ruth and Viviane - and of course, the Bass Rock seems to be a constant. It really exists, I've googled it, and it's off the coast of North Berwick in Scotland. This is where the story is set.

The novel looks at a lot of themes over the years: the role of women, both their expected role and what they actually want to do; relationships between men and women, and those relationships between women as well; cruelty and abuse; and mental health is an important theme, and indeed is central to a great many of the characters.

It's just the kind of book that I enjoy reading, both in style and thematic content. Sometimes you just need a book that ticks along, one that's in no rush to get where it's going. If that makes you think that this is a boring book, it really isn't. There's a lot going on in these timelines, the characters have a lot of things to deal with in their relationships and lives in general, but I never felt rushed. It's a book that I wanted to last. In fact, I really do think that this has been an ideal book to read during this coronavirus lockdown. I think that it will also be a book that I gift to other people.

Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for sending me my ebook copy.

Evie Wyld’s ‘The Bass Rock’ is divided between the stories of three women, Ruth, Viviane and Sarah, plus an unknown woman/women. They live in different times, but are all located close to Bass Rock and all experience (along with many of the other characters) the negative impact of toxic masculinity.

I am already a huge fan of Wyld and was very excited to have the opportunity to review The Bass Rock. She takes on heavy subjects, but somehow manages to make her novels accessible and compelling. I have to admit there were occasions where I felt the theme of the book was rammed home a bit, but that didn’t take away from the beauty of the story telling or my wish to continue reading. An array of ways in which toxic masculinity impacts on others was explored including rape, gaslighting, accusations of witch craft, religion, asylums, child abuse, touch without consent and beliefs about what it takes to make a man. However this was counterbalanced with wry observations and compelling characters, meaning I was sad when this book came to an end. .

Evie Wyld’s The Bass Rock is a powerful indictment of male violence against women, a denouncement of misogyny and male toxicity in all its forms, whether it is the “everyday sexism” women have to put up with on a daily basis or, in its most extreme incarnation, rape and femicide.

The novel’s message is conveyed through three interlocking narratives. In the early 18th Century, Alice, a young woman suspected of being a witch, is on the run from the men who want to kill her. In the years after the Second World War, Ruth marries widower Peter and they move to their house in North Berwick. Ruth struggles to get used to her role of surrogate mother to her stepchildren Michael and Christopher, as Peter becomes increasingly engrossed with work and longish business trips to London. Six decades later, Ruth and Peter’s house is put up for sale – Viviane, mourning the loss of her father, is asked to take care of the property until a buyer is found. The Bass Rock stands as an impassive sentinel, its silent presence providing a link between the fate of the three characters caught in a seemingly inescapable cycle of male violence.

Throughout this novel, I felt myself in the company of a confident writer. The three narratives are related, but very different in style and execution. Alice’s story is recounted in the first person by Joseph, the teenage son of a down-and-out vicar who saves Alice from the clutches of her pursuers. The narrator of the present-day segment is Viv – cynical, sweary and often darkly funny. Ruth’s story is written in the third person, although clearly from the perspective of the protagonist. Wyld keeps tight control over these disparate narratives through the use of a highly formalised, quasi-ritualistic structure. The novel is split in a prologue and seven parts. Each part is made up of five palindromic chapters (helpfully numbered I – II – III – II – I), with the Alice segment at the centre bookended by Ruth’s story and, at the outer ends, Viv’s narrative. Interspersed in the narrative are brief impressionistic vignettes, portraying stomach-churning violence against women.

Traditional writing tips suggest that a story or a novel should immediately provide a clear setting of the narrative, to ensure that readers quickly get their bearings. Wyld’s approach is more challenging. Many details come into focus only after a gradual process of discovery. Slowly, the links between the different narratives become clearer.

There is no denying that The Bass Rock is a strong and assured novel. Until around half-way through I even considered it a clear five-star read, one of my favourite books of the year. Then doubts started to set in. I have three main reservations. The first (which is – admittedly – not entirely the author’s fault) is that the novel has been touted as a Gothic novel. It does, in fact, have some supernatural elements but these are limited to vague “presences” in the house and some “witchy” shenanigans in the Alice and Viviane segments. Ruth’s story also has some tropes of the “sensation novel”, the Gothic’s close cousin – but they are scant basis to consider this a work of Gothic fiction. My second reservation concerns the 18th Century chapters – they start out promisingly, but the setting remains sketchy and vague, and Alice’s character is never really fleshed out.

My third reservation however is more central to the novel’s approach. As The Bass Rock progresses we discover that most of the featured male characters are monsters. Not insensitive, not chauvinistic but actual criminals. Abusers, stalkers, rapists, murderers. The only male characters who are spared the novel’s rage are Christopher and Michael – but that’s because they are, like all the novel’s women, victims of male power games. Of course, I do understand that this is in keeping with the declared feminist stance of the novel. I equally understand that in the face of the male violence which still shamelessly stalks women all around the world, it is ok for a novel to double as an angry, polemical manifesto. But I also tend to believe that readers’ intelligence should not be underestimated and, just as they are able to tease out the intricacies of structure and plot, they can also fathom and embrace a novel’s message without it needing to be driven home with a mallet.

But don’t get me wrong. Despite my reservations, there is much about this novel that I loved. Indeed, I am tempted to eventually revisit it as, with the benefit of hindsight, some of the details in the earlier chapters will likely take on an added significance.

This is a very disturbing yet beautifully written novel whose bleak central theme is the physical and psychological violence women have suffered at the hands of men, including their so-called nearest and dearest, since time immemorial. However, it is not without lighter moments.

The author has woven together the stories of three women, linking their histories across time not only by the theme but also by the setting, overlooking the Bass Rock in the Firth of Forth. The Bass Rock itself is as changeable as the men - bright white and luminous on sunny days and moonlit nights, threatening and sinister on gloomy days. There is a gothic, supernatural feel to the novel.

What I think I got from this book is my conclusion that, although some things never change or disappear completely, at least these days an individual's and society's reaction to them can change. However, I need to re-read this important book more slowly in more positive times after the immediate threat of the COVID-19 pandemic has passed.

With thanks to the publisher and to Netgalley for giving me a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

I really wanted to like this book but unfortunately I just didn’t gel with it. The story follows three different women through different time periods all based in a small town in Scotland.

I found it quite difficult to follow the stories and it all felt a bit sporadic jumping from one character to another. I liked the actual writing style but it was the actual layout of the book that I couldn’t adjust to. I also felt like the book didn’t really have a major plot line to feel engaged with.

Thank you to NetGalley for providing a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

This novel is set in and around North Berwick with the Bass Rock an atmospheric sight which dominates the sea line in this lovely town. The book is set in three different timelines, the earliest is Sarah in the 1700’s who is accused of witchcraft. The second is Ruth who post World War 2 is struggling to come to terms with the death of her brother. She is newly married to widower Peter who has two sons from his first marriage. The third is Viviane in the present day who is tasked with sorting her grandmother Ruth’s possessions in the North Berwick house prior to it’s sale. The theme that unites all these women is they have suffered a mans violence and each feels the ghosts of all the women who have suffered similarly.

There are some lyrical and well written sections in the book, especially in Sarah’s sections, there are powerful images that leap from the page and some of the characters are intriguing in particular the women. I really like the ghostly elements and how each character connects to those from the past. However, I found the timelines confusing as they are not always clearly flagged up, there are so many characters that it takes a long time to work out who they are and how they connect. The unfolding separate dramas unfold in a puzzling way and sometimes the answers came too slowly. I particularly dislike Peter, Ruth’s husband who dismisses everything she says, twists it and much worse. The book is very dark in places and not always an easy read.

Overall, there are sections that I think are very good and rich in atmosphere, there are some likeable characters but other sections are unsettling and confusing.

Thanks to Random House UK and NetGalley for the Advance Review Copy in exchange for an honest review.

This book tells the story of three women whose stories are cleverly interwoven across time. The main setting is the area around North Berwick where the Bass Rock looms eternal. Sarah and Ruth’s narratives are written in the third person and Viviane’s is in the first person. This was quite an interesting approach for the author to take but it took a little bit of getting used to as a reader. There is an element of the supernatural in the story but the living are scarier than the dead in this particular tale.

I sometimes find these multiple points of view books a bit tiresome, but I think it worked really well here. The story itself was quite simple and I'd say it’s definitely more of a character driven story than a plot driven one. There is a real thread of mystery running through the text and I didn’t feel like the story flagged despite not having a breakneck plot and the supernatural elements worked well without being farcical in a modern setting. It has a similar vibe at some points to Melmoth by Sarah Perry although I enjoyed this book more.

Out of the three characters I probably enjoyed Ruth’s story the most as I felt like she was the most well-developed character. I really sympathised with her struggling to trying to fit in in the North Berwick community and having to cope with her awful gaslighting bastard of a husband. I also liked Viviane and she probably felt the most “real” of all the characters. I was overall a bit meh about Sarah, perhaps not getting much of an insight into her personality and inner voice was a deliberate choice by the author but I just struggled to see what she added to the story. Although I enjoyed the three different characters, I don’t think they were linked together particularly effectively, despite Ruth and Viviane having a family connection.

There’s a lot of uncomfortable moments in this novel but readers know this from the very outset. It’s a novel about three women but also a story about violence against women, and how the power men have over women manifests in different ways.

I got through about a 3rd of this book before realising that I was not enjoying the story. I found the different narrators a bit confusing, I loved the gothic setting, and I wish it had stuck for me, but it just didn't.

Wow! This book was an interesting one for me. Like so many books these days, The Bass Rock was a journey through time without a singular narrative voice to anchor it - and it was masterfully done. I didn’t anticipate the level of violence in the book, but it speaks to the female experience in an artful, thoughtful way, and I didn’t find it to be overly gratuitous or unnecessary for the story. This book is sure to please a wide audience, but lovers of du Maurier’s ‘Rebecca’ or Bronte’s ‘Wuthering Heights’ are sure to really love the atmosphere of this novel.

This book must be one of the most anticipated of 2020, written seven years after the author’s second novel, which like her first was a prize winner (in this case the Miles Franklin award) and received a number of prize short and longlistings.

Originally scheduled to be published in 2016 it was described on its acquisition by Jonathan Cape (Bookseller 21st June 2016) as telling the stories of three "distinct" women in three different times that will intersect and dramatise "why something ‘only being in your head’ is the most terrifying thing of all". The novel's characters include a woman from North Berwick in 1590, who stands accused of being a witch and is "frightened by her own mind"; a woman moves to a large house in a "haunted landscape" in North Berwick to take care of her new husband's two sons, both traumatised by the recent death of their mother; and a 21st century novelist travelling in the south of France to research a ghost story her parents told her when she was a child.

What I find interesting about this, is that although the kernel of the novel we are now reading is there, one of the stories (the modern day one) and the key theme underlying them all has changed – my understanding is that the author found in the #metoo movement that theme and a way to really bring together her narrative trends.

The book still tells three interwoven stories from different time frames, all now set in the area of West Berwick. Each section (named I think after Islands and other local features) is structured I, II, III, II, I ; with the I sections are set in the present day, II sections post-WWII and III sections several hundred years earlier.

The I sections are written in a deeply revelatory first person account by Vivienne. She lives alone in London, having recently suffered some form of nervous breakdown after the death of her Father, but has been asked by her family (and particularly her paternal Uncle) to assist with the inventorying (and then caretaking) of the old family home in Berwick while it is on sale.

The II sections are told in a much more measured, emotionally suppressed, third person point of view by Ruth living in the same house immediately post-war, having moved to it with her new husband Peter and his two sons. Ruth’s beloved brother was killed in the war, her reaction to this leading to her almost being hospitalised, whereas Peter lost his beloved wife to illness. Ruth is Vivienne’s paternal grandmother, Vivienne’s mother being, we quickly realise, the niece of Ruth’s housekeeper (Vivienne’s maternal grandmother having being sent to some form of mental asylum).

The III sections are in a third-party present told by a lad whose ex-preacher/now close to outcast Father breaks up the rape of a young girl Sarah who is accused of being a witch.

The artistic influences on the book seem strong.

The I sections, particularly the rather dysfunctional relationship the narrator has with her sister (as well as with men, including even an early relationship with a curate) seem to be heavily Fleabag inspired.

The II sections seem to draw on Sarah Waters gothic – for example The Little Stranger.

The III sections are a rather uninspired attempt at a Philippa Gregory novel – and suffer greatly, in my view, in a year when “Hamnet” and “The Mirror and The Light” writing far more convincing present-tense historic novels set in a not dissimilar period.

And there are elements of Ali Smith and Sarah Moss there also.

The book opens with a brief but horribly striking prologue in which the young Vivienne comes across a suitcase stuffed with the body of a dead woman. Each section then ends with a brief section (which move over time) setting out a tale of a woman being assaulted by a man – the last chillingly with a story we realise is the prologue to the book’s opening.

And this sets out the book’s central theme – the way in which women have suffered repeatedly over the year’s from the toxic impact of masculinity. This theme is most clearly articulated by Maggie (a part time sex worker and drifter, who first befriends Vivienne by saving her from a man crouching behind her car) and who considers that female victims of male violence are effectively the victims of one, centuries old but still unchecked serial killer and not in any way the isolated and anomalous events that male-dominated society likes to portray them as.

And the subject of each of the sections suffer from male violence – violence delivered both in a aggravated possessive way by those close to them; and in a more detached but equally violent way by those not so close .

Vivienne’s section includes: a series of encounters with a creepy (and at least to me, rather oddly unbelievable) boyfriend whose first sexual encounter with her ends roughly (in what starts as uninvited tickling and becomes much rougher) and who becomes possessive; the man behind the car and another who seems to masturbate on her window; a possessive and then near murderous husband of her sister.

Ruth’s relationship with Peter moves through subjugation, , infidelity denied gaslighting style, marital rape and attempted sectioning. At the same time she is subject to the attentions of an a very odd Vicar (again a rather to me unbelievable character) and to rough assault (similar to aggrevated tickling) in a bizarre traditional hide and seek game.

And Sarah is only just rescued from murder and rape (with the tickling of witches) – and then subject to the aggressive possessive instincts of the narrator as the story progresses.

And that list I think misses out a number of other attacks. At times it feels like the Maggie character is taking over the writing of the book and turning into more of a catalogue of male abuse than a novel.

Some of the circular cause/effects of toxic masculinity are examined – in particular war, boarding schools, the idea of a stiff upper lip.

And the sections (particularly I and II) are shot through with a series of recurring images: Bass Rock itself (as I think a silent witness of the years of male violence: a ghost of a young girl; recurring images of foxes and wolves (the former seen I think as more female friendly, the latter as more male dominated and also dominating – part of the toxic influences of masculinity on men themselves); the decay of bodies – of animals, humans and fish (with an early image of a rotting shark beached – which I think also relates to Wyld’s graphic memoir “Everything is Teeth” about her childhood obsession with sharks); fungi (particularly stinkhorn).

There is a lot to like in this book and it is a memorable one.

I do think that the Sections are uneven – I did not really think Section III added to the book and may even detract from the overall impact as written; I felt many of the male characters were not really convincing and came across as more like caricatures; and the book can feel over the top in terms of its theme with a relentlessness which while, I think, is very deliberate, runs the risk of leaving the reader numbed rather than, correctly horrified at what is a devastating account of misogynist violence not as aberration but as a repeating pattern.

I rather enjoyed reading this as I went along for most of the book - Evie Wyld writes so well, the main characters and setting were engaging - but by the end I was left with a feeling of dissatisfaction. The examples of violence against women began to overpower the individual stories and there were too many loose ends. I am thinking here of Deborah and her early family life, her mother’s problems (and by the end we have an idea what they might have been but we get no information apart from a brief mention of her being ‘mad’). What about Ruth’s later life in the house with Betty, Bernadette and the boys - how exactly did that come about? and what about the relationship with Betty that is merely hinted at? I was never much convinced of the Sarah story, I could probably have done without that element. Ruth, Betty and her family held my interest throughout, I’d have liked a whole book devoted entirely to them.

So, much to enjoy here but my experience was spoiled by too much information about characters we hadn’t met and couldn’t relate to and too many omissions about those we had.

This book was a bit of a wildcard for me, but I had heard so many others recommend it online that I just had to try it. The use of the different timelines was a great choice, I felt it really gave the novel pace. I also appreciated the cast of characters; though they all lived very different lives the author kept up a consistent tone for the novel so that there was no jarring when moving between timelines. The overall feeling of this gothic foreboding really stays with the reader.