An incredible debut filled with a vivid and intoxicating rhythm. The events in the book are heavy and it does not shy away from violence and injustice that black people faced in 1970s London but overall, this book highlights the strength of Yamaye and her friends – how they overcame and persisted even in the face of discrimination and racial tension.
Thanks to NetGalley and Vintage/Jonathan Cape for the advanced copy.

Yamaye, Asase and Rumer live on an estate in late-1970s West London and, two women of Jamaican heritage and one of Irish, they live for dub reggae parties, illicit nightclubs, one in a church, and house parties they go searching for. They've known each other forever but there are fracture lines - Asase has always taken what she wanted and that includes anything or anyone Yamaye wants or likes, and when Yamaye, our main character, meets gentle Moose, she worries Asase will annex him. But Moose knows his mind and for a while, they work on forming a solid relationship, doing ordinary couple things that are extraordinary for a woman who's grown up with her physically abusive, scary single dad, her mum a memory and a ghost held inside her bones.

Tragedy, in the form of police brutality, intervenes, and then another act of violence, and while Yamaye grieves and tries to campaign, gathering brief allies, people start to split and return "home", leaving her with few options. A chance encounter takes her to Bristol and an alarming gang: she holds her own, MCing at a local club, music and her mum always within her, but soon she needs to escape from there, too.

Will she find peace in Jamaica, find Moose's beloved grandma and even her mum? Will she find the solace of her roots and the strength to escape her chaotic past? Who is that man on the beach and why does he remind her of someone who shouldn't be there?

An incredibly lyrical patois (nothing explained, no glossary: just as easy or hard to work out as a James Kelman novel), soaked in music and dancing, whips you straight into a sweaty underground club, even though this is not music I'm that familiar with. There are also interactions with layers of history, both the archaeology of the land she lives on in London and collective-unconscious flashbacks to women's lives as enslaved peoples (it's also brilliant that many of the characters talk about the slave rebellions in the Caribbean, a story kept alive while it's not taught by the colonisers).

This is such a self-assured debut, although apparently (see Laura's review) a long time in the making, and, while the author states it's a fictionalised account of her life, she's made a beautiful new work out of that, and also has a full bibliography at the back - fair play to her there.

Themes of women and the patriarchy, of women carving out their own lives from the spaces they can, makes it a very attractive book, even though there's violence and shocking scenes: it's essentially a warm book of supportive relationships - even between Yamaye and her dad at times, and an amazing read.

My blog review, out March 27 here https://librofulltime.wordpress.com/2023/03/27/book-review-jacqueline-crooks-fire-rush/

The novel opens in the late 1970's in London in a dub reggae club. Yamaye is there dancing with her white Irish best friend. You can almost feel the heat of the club, the squash of bodies and the pulsing beat. I was shocked at how aggressive the guys who want to grind and touch the girls on the dance floor are. It immediately feels like a dangerous, menacing world. I had to remind myself that the story is set largely in the 1980's as it feels so relevant to today and contemporary.
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Yamaye meets Moose at the club and they quickly fall for one another. Events take a tragic turn and Yamaye goes on a journey to discover her maternal roots and to try to recover her equilibrium in the face of racism, the stacked judicial and police system and feeling like someone with no "home.".

The novel is written in patois which really allows you to get inside Yamaye's head. It feels lyrical. It is easy to get into the rhythm of it after a few pages. This is a great debut novel.

Yamaye is a young, British-Jamaican woman living in Norwood who finds her true self raving at underground dub reggae clubs at the dawn of the Thatcher era. Alongside her two best friends Asase, also Caribbean, and Rumer, an Irish Traveller, she skanks the night away, practicing her own rapping at home. Dub music threads its way through her entire life, but it isn't the only refrain; she's also haunted by her muma's singing, and images of women who jumped from slave ships during an earlier era, floating down through the water. Fire Rush, Jacqueline Crooks' debut novel, is driven by its incredible set-pieces. The first chapter was originally excerpted separately by Granta and it's easy to see why: it's an amazing piece of writing. But Crooks returns to this intensity of voice again and again throughout the novel, when Yamaye joins an ANL (Anti-Nazi League) march, when she and Asase are attacked by the river, and when Yamaye finally gets to perform her own dub riddims in Bristol. It dramatises what Paul Gilroy says about reggae in his classic There Ain't No Black In The Union Jack (1987), showing how crucial it is to black diasporic culture and how it works as an art form: as Gilroy writes, 'Both soul and reggae consciously reconstruct and celebrate their own histories through complex series of answer records in which different artists criticise and comment on each other’s work.’

Fire Rush was sixteen years in the making, and I think this is the source of both its great power and its slight disjointedness. The first chapter stands slightly apart from the rest of the book, and you can almost see how much it's been reworked and rethought. Most of the novel has such energy, but it's in the linking sections that its pace falters slightly, although never for long. Interestingly, it's also in these sections that the patois recedes, as if Crooks has temporarily lost track of Yamaye's voice. But she always roars back again. I loved the way Crooks traces the links Yamaye makes in her mind, showing how closely she is still tied to Jamaica, a country she has never visited, and how she understands her experience as continuous rather than as dislocated, because it's visible and audible all around her in Britain.

This is a second-generation immigrant experience that offers something different from the stories we more often hear from younger British writers of colour, but it's also so well-written, tying Yamaye's wordless emotions into the stories and music that scaffold her life. 'I switch off the light and go to the balcony [of her dad's flat in Norwood]. I look out beyond the tower blocks at the wastelands and the brickfields where hidden trenches and defensive walls were dug up along with the graves of ancient people, weighed down with lead weights and gold. You can't keep the past down, I say to myself.' Arriving in Bristol: 'We drive past old warehouses at the front of the Floating Harbour... I imagine the ships that sailed from this harbour; sailing to Africa, taking its people to the Caribbean; the women sitting on deck, rubbing salt into their sores, singing air and fire alchemy. I smell the ocean in the distance, salty, bitter. Muma's voice: Let me carry you across the sea.'

4.5 stars.

Such an incredible read and I loved how the music was woven through the plot. The characters were so interesting and vibrant, as were the descriptions of the setting throughout. Set in South London in the late 70s amongst clubs and dub music, you’re immersed into something really special - this was especially striking for me having grown up and always lived in SE London. Themes of grief were sensitively handled, and the characters have really stuck with me. So much to still mull over after finishing this, thank you so much to NetGalley for the proof copy!

This is an absolutely brilliant debut novel set in the 1980s and follows the changing life of Yamaye as she navigates love, loss, injustice, friendship and much more with a backdrop of her musical and cultural influences set across London, Bristol and Jamaica.
This book is beautifully written. It took me a few pages at the start to adjust to the style of writing but I loved it once I did. I read the ebook version but I would imagine that the lyrical nature of the writing, the use of language, Jamaican patois and the musical influence of this book would make an amazing audiobook.
This is a powerful and touching story and one I am so glad I have picked up.

It takes a while to get used to the language in this but it’s absolutely worth persevering because it actually helps to bring the culture to life.
This is Yamaye’s story and at times it’s brutal where needs be. It’s also more beautiful than I expected it to be. 6 stars if it were possible!

In hindsight perhaps I should not have requested this book, given the publicity blurb states:

Set amid the Jamaican diaspora in London at the dawn of 1980s, a mesmerizing story of love, loss, and self-discovery that vibrates with the liberating power of music

Yamaye lives for the weekend, when she goes raving with her friends, the "Tombstone Estate gyals," at The Crypt, an underground dub reggae club in their industrial town on the outskirts of London. Raised by her distant father after her mother's disappearance when she was a girl, Yamaye craves the oblivion of sound - a chance to escape into the rhythms of those smoke-filled nights, to discover who she really is in the dance-hall darkness.

Not my type of book but thanks to Netgallery for the ARC

Excellent debut about music, raving, love, racism, freedom and especially about a young black woman trying to find herself in the late 70s/early 80s in London, Bristol and Jamaica. It took me some time to get used to the narrative voice, but once I did, I was hooked.
Thank you Jonathan Cape and Netgally for the ARC.

Fire Rush first came on my radar when it was included on the Observer Best Debut Authors 2023 book list so I was really keen to read it. Once I finished it, I immediately added it to my Women’s Prize Prediction List as I found it such an incredible story and felt it deserved a spot on the list.

Fire Rush is a story of Black womenhood in the late 1970s with reggae music in it’s soul. Yamaye and her friends (Asase and Rumer) are living in the Tombstone Estate, Norwood, West London. Their lives revolve around nights out raving in The Crypt to dub reggae. It’s there that Yamaye meets the irresistible Moose and falls in love but then tragedy strikes. With the risks of police brutality, race protests and riots, Yamaye moves first to Bristol and finally Jamaica in a bid to free herself of her ghosts and find her future.

The book is written in a Jamaican patois and while it took me a little time to get into the “riddim” once it clicked it just seemed to flow effortlessly and bring dub reggae alive and singing through the pages - you feel yourself dancing in the hot and smoky underground Crypt, on the decks with Yamaye when she’s DJing and then through the spiritualism in Jamaica…I imagine this book would be exceptional on audiobook!

If you love music then definitely pick this one up but I knew nothing about dub reggae going in and have a new appreciation come the end of the novel. – there’s a wonderful playlist that Jacqueline Crooks created as a companion piece which is available on the penguin site.

This is definitely a book that I’d love to see getting onto the shortlist. And the cover is just perfection 👌

Huge thanks to @netgalley and @penguinbooksireland for an ARC in return for an honest review

I feel this is a difficult title to review, as while I didn't enjoy it, I appreciate that it's an important novel in its inclusion of topics under-represented in contemporary literary fiction. I think that, due to personal taste, I disliked the inclusion of what I would consider magical realism (although presented within the context of Caribbean mythology and folklore, so perhaps that's a lack of taste and/or curiosity on my part!), and found that Yamaye's character to be somewhat inconsistent.

4.5 stars

Whoa. This is a blow you away, totally submersive and fiery-intense read. Set within the tumultuous Thatcher era late 70’s / early 80’s in London and Bristol, it centres on Yamaye, a young Black British woman, drawn with such depth of character and feeling that we partake in every breath she takes. Jacqueline Crooks clearly drew upon the voice of the female spirit, ‘nun mus’, when creating Yamaye.

The underground dub music scene with clubbing at the ‘Crypt’ is what Yamaye and her friends live for at the weekend, and the ‘riddim’ and beat of ska and regaee is embedded within the entire novel, metaphors in abundance. The Jamaican patois enhances its lyrical prose, which was beautifully written and it’s quite hard to believe this is a debut, it’s so masterful.

Riots, violence, police brutality, racism along with female inequality and male dominance, sure make this not a light read. Fire rush, is in fact exactly that - it’s a real rush, an addictive fiery read. I can’t wait to see what Crooks writes next, as she’s definitely one to watch.

I’m very grateful for the advanced copy from NetGalley and the Publisher Vintage.

3.5* Fire Rush; an Observer debut of the year and longlisted for the Women's Prize, is an incredible debut novel.

Yamaye parties hard in London in the late 70s/early 80s. Time with her friends and surrounded by music, Yamaye's vibrancy zings off the page in a world that is also threaded with misogyny and racism. Then she meets Moose and her world is turned upside down as the two fall head over heels. But Yamaye's happiness is short lived when violence forces her to up-end her life and move to Bristol and then onto Jamaica.

The language and the rhythm of this book are incredible. Yamaye is a superb character, carrying the plot with ease and Jacqueline Crooks doesn't shy away from lots of tricky issues. This is a hugely accomplished book which delivers on a number of levels. My one issue was the displacement from London to Bristol to Jamaica which meant that often Yamaye was our only grounding throughout the book.

Thanks to Netgalley and Vintage for an ARC. I strongly suspect that Fire Rush may be touted for the Booker long list.

I loved the narrative voice which is jam-packed is full of rhythm. This is a terrific novel about the 1970s/80s urban. It's about music and roots and culture. It's choreographic. The use of phonetic spelling is easy to switch into and gives the story and the atmosphere necessary poetry. Such a clever, compelling story, too. A big 'Wow' from me.


Thanks to the publisher for an ARC via NetGalley.

Fire Rush follows Yamaye living in late 70s - 80s London, her friends, family, love and the thing that ties them all together, music.

A beautiful, lyrical style of writing. This book is so fluid and flows like lyrics, which is so cleverly entwined with the importance of music in this book.

This book really is a slow burn and can take some getting into. I can see how the dialect can put people off, it was a slow read for me but so worth pushing through. Reading Yamaye’s story in her authentic voice really threw me into the story. Alongside the author’s intense, vibrant, olfactory scene setting I really could picture myself in the Crypt alongside the characters.

I love dub and drum and bass, so this was really interesting for me and a great reminder to remember the heritage of the music I love, where it came from, who pioneered it and the importance of this. This was heavily woven through the novel which was so cleverly done.

Touching on some serious subjects (racial inequality, police brutality, sexual assault, consent, crime etc) this isn’t a lighthearted read and is very heavy going, and rarely moves away from this. It’s not a cheery read by any means, but it’s definitely a beautiful and important one.

A fantastic debut, 4.5 ⭐️ thank you Netgalley and the publisher for an ARC of this book.

Set in 1970s/1980s London and Jamaica, this debut novel is a fiery story of love, loss, dub/reggae, Black lives, police brutality, heritage, grief, spirituality and letting go.

Yamaye is a young woman raised by her father following her mother’s disappearance when she was a girl. She parties hard with her friends in an underground dub reggae club called the Crypt, where she seeks oblivion in the beats and the darkness. She meets and makes a strong connection with Moose, but when life takes a devastating turn, Yamaye turns to music and the inner voice of her mother to get her through.

This is a coming of age tale but not as you know it. It’s dark, violent, brooding, fragmented. It’s hard to understand in parts but it didn’t seem to matter - there’s a pacey, rhythmic, hypnotic quality to the writing.

The book is written almost entirely in Jamaican Patois, which I thought I’d find difficult, but actually I found it mesmerising. The words have a staccato rhythm, and in my head, a bass drum thumping in the background for a lot of the scenes, particularly the dance scenes in the Crypt and some of the thrilling scenes towards the end. I’m sure I missed some of the meaning here and there, but I just allowed the rhythm to carry me through.

It’s definitely a book that won’t be for everyone but I really liked it. 3.5/5 ⭐️

*Many thanks to the author, the publisher @vintagebooks and @netgalley for the arc. Fire Rush was published on 2 March. As always, this is an honest review.*

Part love letter to music, part lament on grief, Fire Rush follows Yamaye through her descent into the soundscape of club nights in the crypt, to the dark criminal world of Bristol & the even darker depths her of grief and rage. There is a lot to like about this story and how it threads together a devoted passion to music as a way to escape emotions and dull the pain of circumstances. I struggled to read it though. I was only really invested in the one character who absence is the catalyst for the journey and felt like the aspects I enjoyed were rushed. I can see how this mimics the character journey though and I would recommend it to anyone interested in the music scene, and emotional tales. Be sure to check out content warnings online before diving in though as there are many heavy topics and scenes that could be very triggering.

This is different to my usual book choice but I'm so glad I stepped out of my comfort zone, The dialect and writing style may take a bit to get used to but once you do you will find this is one powerful read. A multi layered book covering so many topics, this is a brilliantly written, raw, tragic heartbreaking book. This is not an easy read but it's one that will stay with you long after you turn the last page.

‘This is our dancing time.’

It’s 1978, and Yamaye and her friends live in a small, industrial town on the edge of London, once a site of pagan rituals, where they dance with the dead. This town of cemeteries and ghosts is brought to life at the weekend by the dub reggae beats in an underground crypt club. Unsure of what her future holds, Yamaye loses herself in these dark, smokey, music-filled nights in the hopes of finding herself; and music is also how Yamaye connects with her dead mother. Living with her reclusive and cold father, in a town simmering with social and racial injustice, Yamaye is feeling lost until she meets Moose, a profound soul who shares her Jamaican heritage. The attraction is immediate, palpable, as friendship turns into a deep connection, and a deeper love; but then brutal tragedy strikes, and sets off a chain of events that brings us on a tumultuous and revelatory journey beyond London, and across the seas to the forests of Jamaica, propelled by the driving power of music.

Fire Rush by Jacqueline Crooks is a novel brimming with lyrical, atmospheric, musical writing; we can feel the sweat, the grime, the smoke, the beat of the underground crypt club emanating from the pages and running through us, curling around us. This is a book that pulsates with rhythm and bass, with passion and fire, with love and grief. Written largely in Jamaican patois, this creates a rhythmic and completely immersive reading experience. There is a lot of female strength in this novel, manifested in different ways, and we meet some wonderful female characters in Jamaica.

Exploring themes of love and devastating loss; of self-discovery and friendships tested; of racial injustice, police brutality and riots; of community and the power of music to unify and mobilise; of migration and the ways we find freedom; and of the tug of our ancestors always swirling around us; this is a rich and captivating read, bursting with music, emotion, culture, and cultural history.

Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for my eARC.

Fire Rush by Jacqueline Crooks is a powerful, emotional gritty story that resonates now that we know about the many things have been brushed under the carpet for a long, long time.

Three good friends, Yamaye, Asase and Rumer all in their mid-20s are living in a London suburb in the late 1970s getting by in life but mostly looking forward to their Saturday nights out at the local club The Crypt. They meet their regular circle of friends here but when Yamaye makes friends with a new guy at The Crypt, the dynamic in the group gradually changes. No-one could have expected what happened.

Fire Rush is a superbly written story full of legendary characters and Caribbean street slang that I loved finding meanings to.

The tragedy and dangers that the friends faced and overcame speaks to their incredible bravery and fortitude.