Fire Rush is not an easy read, not because it is badly written, but because of the heavy themes explored. It describes a world where a man would rather jump out of a window than be questioned by the police about the whereabouts of his brother. A world where black men are brutalised and killed by the police simply for being black. A world where young women are treated as property by men, of dysfunctional families, with husbands who abuse their wives, and mothers who neglect their children. A world where being black means young men and women have very little prospect of success. A world where many resort to crime and others betray their people in order to survive. It is very reminiscent of Steve McQueen’s recent BBC series Small Axe and a reminder that very little has changed in terms of racial inequality, oppression of, and discrimination against black people.

I cannot say that I enjoyed reading this book and I came close to not finishing it but I am glad that I persevered to the end. It is now whilst reflecting back that I can appreciate the complexity of the relationships and the characters and how expertly Jacqueline Crooks has managed to tie them together in this story of love, music, dance, struggle, survival, and Black womanhood.

The characters are complex, multi-layered, and with a lot of depth. Through Yamaye’s narration, I felt like I knew them and like I was there with them and her on her journey of self-discovery. Moose, Eustace, and Oraca were very endearing and I couldn’t help rooting for Charmaine despite her flaws. Although it is ultimately a book about Black womanhood I like the fact that not all the women are good and not all the men are bad, a true reflection of society.

I found the pace to be very slow, especially at the beginning. This combined with the heavy subject made it a challenging read. The pace picked up halfway through when Yamaye moved to Bristol and events really began to unfold.

The writing is very descriptive and gives you a real sense of place and of the dub music scene in the 1970s and 1980s. I felt transported to the Blue Mountains of Jamaica, and could easily visualise the forests, valleys, caves, and beaches. I could smell the chicken roasting by the roadside, and hear the crickets, the drums, and the horns as Granny Itiba worked her magic.

The prose and Jamaican patois give the story a sense of authenticity. The language is very rhythmic and dub lyrics feature throughout the novel making music almost another character. Whilst I understand why the lyrics are important for Yamaye and for the story, I felt that it was sometimes a little too much. I did however love the accompanying playlist compiled by the author and listened to it again and again.

Fire Rush is an intense debut novel that is definitely one that is worth reading but you have to be in the right frame of mind because it is not easy on the heart.

This is an incredible must read debut from Jacqueline Crooks that captures the turbulent, challenging and stressful history of black British lives, more particularly black women, of the late 1970s and early 1980s. This includes the terrifying racism, the brutality and black deaths at the hands of the police, undercover police surveillance, informants, dance and music, the protests, riots, the far right, and the Anti-Nazi League. Yamaye lives at the Tombstone estate, Norwood, West London, with her poopa Irving, staying hoping for his love and need to learn more about her muma, a midwife who died in Guyana, when she was a child. She fills the inner vacuum inside with dancing at the Crypt at the weekends with her friends, Asase, the leader, and the Irish Rumer, where skanking is survival.

It is more than dancing, dub is everything, a fire, a guide, a path to the soul and the past, her friends, connecting with ghosts, a core sense of identity, it is who she is. Yamaye then meets Moose, her life fundamentally shifting as she falls in love, finding a peace and a promise of a different future in Jamaica. However, this is all set to be shattered when a tragedy occurs, and matters are exacerbated when her friendships are broken, unbearable cracks begin to appear. Fighting for justice, brings unwelcome police surveillance into Yamaye's life, it all becomes too much and she runs to the sanctuary offered by Monassa at the Safe House in Bristol. It turns out to be far from safe, facing a criminal gang, a controlling predator and a protector, it's a predicament that has her feeling shame.

All is not lost, Yamaye bides her time, the fire inside her is burning as she plays the decks, finding herself in the music, culminating in her past meeting her present when she travels to Jamaica, to find out about her muma, and connect with the other love of her life, Moose, through his resourceful Granny Itiba, who can be relied on when a past problem once again rears its head. This is a read that grabbed me almost instantly, it is exquisitely written, lyrical and vibrant, and I quickly became accustomed to the Jamaican patois. I really felt for Yamaye and what she went through and her transformation, her love of dub reggae, in this sublime and compelling character driven historical novel, of love, loss, freedom, and its eye opening insights in what it was like to be black woman in this period of British history. Highly recommended. Many thanks to the publisher for an ARC.

Loved the voice; loved the narrator, Yamaye, loved her journey. This is full of urban energy with a textual soundtrack that makes me want to go clubbing. But Crooks has done more than capture a vibe, a sound, a feel - she's crafted a book that follows a conventional narrative arc of the journey from trauma to finding roots and a form of stability, but she does it in a voice that is totally her own.

Characterisation is deft and not laboured; the chemistry between Yamaye and Moose is off the page. There's nothing naive or amateur about the craft that has gone into this book: it's slick and artful while feeling spontaneous and irreverent. The part set in Jamaica doesn't have quite the dynamism of the London scenes but the journey is crucial.

For my money, Crooks is an author to watch.

Around the middle of the book, the main character says it’s people that are hard to work out; music doesn’t lie. But mainly, this isn’t true. The book’s people are not conflicted. They are good or bad, kind or self-serving. Music has social nuance. It comes from the island, beautiful, but where terrible things happened.
Firerush is a Windrush Oliver Twist, a sharp twisting narrative of chapters, written in the manner of a TV mini-series with vernacular dialogue, turning Dickens’ ‘Boys is wery obstinit’ to ‘me know how fe give de bad bwoy de slip.’
A lone protagonist, Yamaye, aka Sonix Dominatrix, chronicles it. She tells of families, new and old, happenstances and characters, thuggish low-life, and men whose beauty is a throwback from the past.
At the beginning of Oliver Twist, Dickens identifies labour as the era’s scourge, with the workhouse its Behemoth—for Crooks, it is riddim, in the record shop, the dance hall and the Pentecostal church. This riddim is in the ‘thick of duppy dust; lost river and streams and sewers bubbling beneath’ and in the hills of Jamaica. Riddim caresses and soothes, but it is infectious and sometimes poisonous—associated both with air and the lack of it. You must ride it, or it will take you.
Just as the enigma of Oliver’s birth and the promise of restitution precipitates his decent into the corrupt underbelly of London, Yamaye encounters a bright-eyed band of thieves and thugs collecting trinkets, not from the pockets of portly citizens but from the coffers of museums, the pickings of colonial plunder. And she finds, like Oliver, that her association is non-negotiable. She lives in a labyrinth of tunnels, steel doors, chained and padlocked.
Cook sublimates the traditional dyad of nature and culture to purity and corruption, but it is unclear where either begins or ends. Not surprising, given that empire takes the place of Dicken’s Victorian righteous entitlement. And enslavement, where ‘shame can make you disappear’, is the equivalent of Dickens’s gutter despair.
Instead of the gentle restoration of inheritance, the colonial heritage of enslavement is a human tally that can never be paid. There are only individuals and families looking out for themselves, trying to find their safe way through.
Books like Fire Rush are needed urgently as a diasporic history of people of colour becomes incrementally usurped by the power narratives of post-colonial capitalism that can accommodate degrees of violence. The new order encourages all our stories to turn from racist heritage and celebrate the expanded democratic empire, endlessly tolerant of the right sort of other. You better understand our history.

This debut tells the story of Yamaye, a young woman of Jamaican heritage living in London during the 1970s. After a couple of tragedies impact her life, she goes on a journey of self discovery.
For me, I just couldn't get into the rhythm of this book. It took a while for me to see what direction it was going in and the written form of the character's narrative dialect made it hard to immerse myself into the actual story.
That said, I felt the characters were really well written with a lot of depth to them. Yamaye's friends and boyfriend all had such complex characters affected by the ways others had treated them, and it made for an interesting read.

Really enjoyable novel. Definitely not a book aimed at me as a reader but definitely one I really enjoyed

Loved this very different novel based on à young Jamaican girls youth in a dub step centered London. Full of twists and moving I enjoyed this and would fully recommend.

Fire Rush is a brilliant multi-layered story narrated by a young girl of Jamaican ancestry in the late 1970s and early '80s. It takes in the rave scene and her friends and relationships in South Norwood before moving on to her experience living with a criminal gang in Bristol before moving on to Jamaica where she looks for her lost mother. It is by turns entrancing, hypnotic, entrancing and spiritual. I loved Fire Rush and look forward to reading future books by Jacqueline Crooks in the future.

This novel opens in 1978 at a time when, with good reason, black people have no faith in the police and the South London community is suffering the pressures which will eventually lead to the major inner-city riots of 1981. Yamaye and her friends Asase and Rumer are three young black girls living for music, dancing and excitement.

They dress up, go to clubs and meet men like any young girls might but this is within the black subculture of the period where the bcommunity feels threatened and forges its own identity in music, drugs and, sometimes, violence. It’s a wild and hedonistic ride but, along the way, Yamaye finds Moose and falls in love. It’s a temporary happiness and a sequence of disasters leaves Yamaye in hiding and exploited. She escapes and, eventually, makes her way to Jamaica and, later, finds some kind of contentment.

It’s a difficult book to review because the story is steeped in a culture and language which you have to believe is authentic. The telling is free-flow with DJ asides, lyrics and a haze of drugs but, at times, it seems almost a caricature of black life where the members of the Jamaican community don’t work, hate the police, are constantly harassed, do a lot of drugs and live for music and dancing.

Maybe it was like that. Who knows? I enjoyed the book but I just wasn’t quite convinced.

This novel opens so powerfully. Te reader is immediately plunged into the "blues party" dub reggae culture of the late 70s/early 80s in an urgent and visceral way. Jacqueline Crooks manages to convey both the vulnerability and the strength of Yamaye who is dealing with the racism of British life, with being a young woman in a male dominated world and als0 the loss of her mother. (Although maybe she is not yet dealing with that grief.) Music has a vital role is her life providing joy, sensuality and spirituality and is often her only joy when life becomes truly difficult. She meets Moose, a truly beautiful man who she loves and seems like her way out of her sadness and into a beautiful, creative future. Then one day, she can't get hold of him on the phone... Yamaye's story takes us from London to Bristol and then to Jamaica. The personal is strongly entwined with the political (both contemporary and historical), and the book is all the richer for that.

I’m a huge fan of Jamaican-inspired music, and this book is soaked in it. The words thrum and sing with horn stabs and skittering cymbals, and pulse with a deep slow bass throb. It’s alive to music in a way so many books about the subject aren’t (compare and contrast to Marlon James’ …Seven Killings, for instance, which for all its many other virtues is almost completely tone deaf, in a novel about Bob Marley of all people). There’s a terrific rhythm to the language, as though it's being told to you in person. I don’t usually do audiobooks but i’d love to hear this as one (with a dub underpinning, naturally).

The story is vivid and involving, with sharp characterisation and a living breathing cast you come to care about. When something nasty happens about a third of the way in, it’s a proper gut punch. I’d read about the ANL and undercover cops, Linton Kwesi Johnson told me about sus laws and Misty In Roots about Babylon, but Ms Crooks’ novel made me feel them. It’s is an excellent debut, and I’m going to miss Yamaye. Hope she’s okay.

Once you familiarise yourself with the language, this is an engaging, powerful story. It gives a great insight into the experience of living as a black person in a white, structurally racist society. The main character is a talented, vulnerable, powerful woman who connects with this world and the next to make sense of her experience. It is a story of struggle and survival in the midst of a joyful exuberant celebration of dance and a search for meaning. An intense, worthwhile read.

This is an exceptionally well-written, vivid, and powerful piece of work. I will be recommending it to everyone I know.

believe this is Jacqueline Crooks' first novel length publication and I'm so excited by her as a writer! This doesn't come out until next March, but definitely but this on your to-read list because it's a fantastic book!


We start in late 1970s London (mainly around Norwood) by meeting Yamaye, Asase and Rumer who are definitely party girls, big time. Yamaye (the MC) and Asase are of Jamaican background, whereas Rumer is Irish. She always had a big question mark over her for me - she never really fit into their friendship group and I wanted to know how they had met! Anyway, it isn't Rumer's story; it's Yamaye's.

Yamaye starts seeing a guy called Moose. She can't keep her happiness to herself for long and her friends work out she's in a relationship - more: she's in love. Life seems so sweet - she can forget about her father Irving, her Muma's ghost seems benevolent, and they all live for nights in The Crypt. Maybe she'll even try singing; after all, Moose likes her voice.

Tragedy strikes and Yamaye's world is turned on its head, losing Moose, Asase and Rumer within a very short time. Wounded and needy, she moves to Bristol, but controlling people surrounding her. She can't escape the regression to her childhood self, as her father appears to materialise in other people. She is living in a 'Safe House' which is anything but safe, and it is here she attempts to locate some connections to her roots, to Jamaica, to free herself from the torment of everyday living.

This was a really fantastic book with powerful themes and resonant language. It may take you a while to get the 'riddim' of the Jamaican patois, but I didn't find it too long. (I looked up some words out of interest, but you could get 90% of it from context). The patois adds a real element to the book; it feels vibrant and almost like poetry at times. Crooks has represented the rhythm of music - mostly dub reggae, but also traditional music - through her words and it is mesmerically effective. You really feel like you are there jivin with the girls, the beat pulsin ya body. I was truly transported.

This isn't a book for the faint-hearted; it is really full of grief and heartache. Crooks has said it is loosely based on her life, and I ache to think of someone living this life. Not only racism, but police brutality and injustice, being stalked, confinement, organised crime, rape, self-harm and murder are among the themes. They are all dealt with very sensitively, but do start reading this book aware of the challenges you will read about.

However, it is certainly worth it: to see the world of late 1970s into the 80s, the vibe that was going on, Yamaye's growth as a character, the beauty and darkness of others' souls, to explore Afrofuturism, and to be taken on a real emotional rollercoaster. Use of recurring images, and other forms of text (such as rapping/singing) really take this book to the next level.

Thanks to NetGalley and Vintage for the arc of this book and thank you to Jacqueline Crooks for such an exciting new voice in fiction!

I found this awesome playlist I had to share, because you'll want to be groovin to summat after readin this! https://www.penguin.co.uk/articles/20...
Curated by the author!

Such an incredible read that felt so connected to the music that ran through it. This book has it all really, the characters were so interesting and descriptions even more so. Set in London in the late 70s amongst clubs and dub music, you’re immersed into something really special. I found that the loss and grief in this novel struck me especially the ways in which different characters dealt with it, and I think Yamaye’s journey is such an important one.
So much to think about after reading this, and so much to listen to as well.

4 - 5 stars
Timeline:-1979- early 1980’s

This is Yamaye’s story, she lives on Tombstone Estate in Norwood, West London. She and her best friends Asase, who is definitely the leader, and Irish born Rumer live for the weekends. Their lives revolve around The Crypt where they dance in the dark, dub fills them up with its rhythm and its soul linking them to their past. Everything changes for the tight knit three when Yamaye meets Moose, their love deep. This is a time of danger and tragedy strikes and hearts are broken. Set against a backdrop of protests, riots and police brutality, Yamaye leaves London for Bristol but cannot break free of those who seek to contain and control her. Her story shifts to Jamaica, her spiritual home but past and present are on a collision course.

This is a very powerful debut novel and though it takes a while to tune into the Jamaican patois you get the gist and I absolutely love its vibrancy and you feel it’s ‘riddim’. Throughout the entirety of the book the writing is so vivid, the descriptions and language feels poetic and the infusion of dub is wonderfully resonant. Through Yamaye you experience the escapist rhythm of the dances in The Crypt, the music, the culture, the history especially of the Maroons but most of all the spiritualism with its links to history but also it’s ghosts. I love this element and it’s described so well it often feels other worldly and almost an out of body experience.

Yamaye is a fantastic central protagonist and narrator as she makes you feel as if you too are living the injustice and sharing the love and grief. In the background and more often than not in the foreground, we confront the riots, the suspicion, the fear and the claustrophobia of being watched. You root for her in Bristol and in Jamaica hoping she finds what she seeks.

It’s full of amazing characters some with good hearts such as Moose and others who have dark souls but all are portrayed so well you see them with your minds eye.

This novel takes you on an emotional and unforgettable journey. I love the multiple images of fire such as the fire rush inna me bredrin which appear cleverly throughout. This is a terrific debut and a writer to watch in the future. Highly recommended.

With thanks to NetGalley and especially to Vintage for the much appreciated arc in return for an honest review.

This is a deeply vivid, evocative novel, written with a unique and authentic voice. Telling the story of Yamaye in three parts, I was thoroughly drawn into her world each time - the rich descriptions of music and dance halls forming the core of the book, and providing a visceral, one-of-a-kind perspective on what the dub/reggae scene meant to participants in the late 70s and 80s. The novel is at times both beautiful and brutal, with the gentle spirit of the main character at odds with the harsh reality - never shied away from - of institutional racism, crime, poverty and plain old misogyny. The central love stories - between Yamaye and her lover, as well as with her lost mother - are a delicate and moving counterpoint to the grim underbelly and tragic circumstances she moves through. I enjoyed watching her grow, develop and ultimately toughen up. This was a really powerful read, I loved the use of language and although I found it a little overlong (slightly meandering in its journey through the 3 acts to the conclusion), I feel it will stay with me for a long time. Thanks to Netgalley & publishers for the opportunity to read; reviews will be publicised closer to pub date.

I enjoyed this book so much. A young Jamaican woman who goes on a journey to find herself after early tragedies in her life.

Really loved this and will be recommending it to everyone.

The story follows the life of Yamaye, a woman of Jamaican heritage, who was raised in a housing project in London and is still dealing with her mothers disappearance when she was younger. She spends her free time in the dub reggae clubs where she meets Moose, whose life is tragically cut short when he is sadly murdered by a police officer. This chain of events results in Yamaye traveling to Bristol and then Jamaica on a journey of self discovery.

This is a phenomenal debut novel, highly recommended to get your hands on.

Thank you to NetGalley, Vintage, Jonathan Cape for the opportunity to read and review this ARC.

Fire Rush is a novel set in the late 1970s and 80s across London, Bristol, and Jamaica, as a young woman goes on a journey to find her future after a tragedy. Yamaye spends her time going out raving with her friends, loving the rhythm and the music, and when she meets Moose, she suddenly finds herself with someone she can see a future with. When police brutality changes everything, Yamaye ends up travelling to Bristol and then Jamaica, following the music, hope, and the lost dreams of her mother and of Moose.

The structure gives a real sense of journey to the book and this first-person novel has a real sense of place and time, from the fashion and the music to gangs and police violence, but also covers a lot of things that still feel very relevant today. Yamaye is a gripping protagonist, often having to cast things and people aside in order to get away and find where she needs to be, and the book being from her perspective means you really get into her head.