A powerful trauma narrative where we see in fragmented kaleidoscopic chapters called “then”, “after” and “before “ how the past echoes down through the generations. Hannah, an Australian, is living in South London and coming to terms with the sudden death of her boyfriend. As a ghost he observes her, providing an element of comedy in what is a relentlessly somber novel.
I can’t say I “enjoyed” The Echoes, but there are so many hints and images the reader doesn’t understand, you have to keep reading to find out. Eventually there are moments of understanding when a later scene reveals what had been a mystery and you find yourself thinking “Ah! That’s why she makes so many cups of coffee and doesn’t drink them”.
Evie Wyld has written another compelling novel which left me thinking how the legacy of colonialism still casts a dark shadow on so many lives.

The Echoes is the fifth novel by award-winning Australian author, Evie Wyld. Max, the less-favoured son of James and Emily, teaches writing at a London university. He has never believed in ghosts, but now he is one. Stuck in the flat he shared with his girlfriend, Hannah, ignorant of how he died and, mystified as to what is keeping him there, he tries, with mixed success, to make his presence felt.

Hannah escaped her life in rural Western Australia to live in a flat in London, in view of the place she has felt homesick for, ever since she first saw a photograph of her maternal grandmother, Natalia, standing in front of Natalia’s grandfather’s Barcombe Avenue house. In London, she can become someone else. Questions from Max about her family are evaded; letters from her mother are ignored; secrets and lies cover things she doesn’t want to remember.

Kerry and Piers bring up their daughters Rach and Hannah on their goat farm, a corner of a place called The Echoes, near Wilma, WA, where once stolen children were trained in the schoolhouse by Francis Manningtree’s mother. Uncle Tone and his girlfriend Melissa are there too. Piers might be the only one who doesn’t have a past he wants to forget, the only one who doesn’t have memories and bad feelings he buries in the dirt.

Mrs Manningtree would say “Yes it was, of course, hard for a child to be taken from its family, but it was all for the good. Imagine not having a roof, a bed, canned food to eat, a lavatory to sit on. They were different, the Blacks, they didn’t feel the same about their families, they got over things quicker, were used to it. Often when they arrived they didn’t even know how to wash themselves, poor things, basic hygiene escaped them” but Francis is no longer convinced. His second son acts to effect a rescue.

Why Hannah meticulously makes multiple cups of coffee but never drinks them, why she paints their flat in dark colours, why she keeps a small cube of broken green glass, mysteries to which Max may never learn the answer, even if the patient reader eventually does.

Why Kerry bakes inedible cakes and jam tarts, why Anthony eats them, why Kerry downplays her cleverness, her sharpness, her seriousness, with silliness, are things that Piers doesn’t understand. Anthony does, though: “She is hiding herself for safety. Rach, a carbon copy of how Kerry used to be. She’s funny and sharp and tough.”

Melissa does, too: “they are both pretending at something – just like a child’s tea party. They’ve both reached for something beyond them and in order to keep up the pretence they have to be different people, so that when truth comes looking it won’t recognise them.”

Multiple narrative voices, two in the first person, relate a story over three timelines that are clearly delineated. The title could apply to the place where Hannah and her sister grew up, but there are lots of echoes within the story, and repetitions. The reader might wonder if victimhood of child sexual abuse is inherited, not through the genes, but an echo of lived experience. Might there be an identifiable traumatic cause up the ancestral line?

Wyld sets her scenes with evocative descriptive prose; her characters, multi-faceted and complex, can’t help drawing the reader’s empathy. Moving and powerful.
This unbiased review is from an uncorrected proof copy provided by NetGalley and Random House UK/Vintage.

I ended up thinking this was a well-done and introspective book, dealing skilfully and poignantly with trauma and its aftermath... but I have to say until about two-thirds of the way in, I didn't really feel much. It was readable and I didn't have anything bad to say about it, but I felt like the book (and all the praise I've heard about it) had passed me by. So, mixed feelings, but it was a horribly tense read at times and I think Evie Wyld did pull it all together in the end.

Ex-pat Australian Hannah has travelled thousands of miles to escape her family and the secrets they hide but when her boyfriend dies unexpectedly, grief forces Hannah to remember the cycles of trauma. Max cannot escape the flat he stayed in with Hannah and he wants to protect her still but he has no corporeal being so he tries to help her confront her past.
This is a very beautiful love story that is hidden under layers of history. I love Wylde's writing, it is dreamy and ethereal even when describing quite unpleasant things. The life of the 'bogan' family is pitched just right, confronting racism, abuse and violence in the bush without being graphic - the reader has to fill in the gaps.

One of the first person narrators in this novel is absurdly the ghost of a creative writing lecturer spying on his partner trying to move on (from him and from her past) and I still thought it was a beautifully written and emotive read. Such is the power of Evie Wyld.

Evy Wyld can do nothing wrong. Loved the book. Wyld has a with words that keeps you reading until past your bedtime. Bought this for our municipal library.

I'm already an Evie Wyld fan, and this novel is another tour de force. It has her hallmark style of intricate layering and different timelines and character perspectives. But the central anchor is Hannah (Australian) whose partner Max dies early on in the novel and continues his narrative as a ghost in her life. Hannah and Max live in London, and Max muses over why Hannah has never introduced him to her parents. She fobs him off with some rather limp excuses, but we (the reader) go back into her childhood to find out why. Wyld handles a common theme with ingenuity and skill. I loved it.

In this captivating novel, we follow Hannah, an Australian woman living in a London flat with her boyfriend Max. The flat stands close to a house where her grandmother once lived before relocating to Australia. The narrative unfolds across three timelines:

Before - delves into Hannah and Max’s relationship, exploring their time together and the complexities that define their bond.

After - introduces an unusual yet compelling thread—the ghost of Max narrates from beyond, adding a poignant and haunting layer to the story.

Then - transports us to Hannah’s childhood, focusing on her upbringing in a house known as ‘The Echoes.’ This land once housed a school where Aboriginal girls were taken from their families for training.

This multi-layered story intricately weaves together past, present, and supernatural elements, creating a rich tapestry of love, loss, and legacy.

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The story unfolds with a distinct charm, its narrative rich and the prose beautifully crafted. Yet, it is the ending that truly elevates the entire book—a conclusion so satisfying and exquisite, it feels like the only fitting way the tale could have ever come to rest.

I finished this, last night, and it was one of the finest pieces of writing I’ve read in a long while! The tale is enthralling and emotional but it goes so much deeper than this! I honestly cannot recommend this enough and Evie Wyld is fast becoming one of my auto-buy authors!

DNF - I'm not sure what part of this book didn't work for me but I found my mind wandering as I read it & couldn't motivate myself to continue. I am interested to see what else this author gets up to.

This is deceptively simple novel, describes the relationship between Max and Hannah and the secrets in her past. It’s no spoiler to say that Max is a ghost, who is trying to protect Hannah as she processes her grief from losing him. Hannah’s backstory and childhood is truly harrowing at times and her family history shows how she’s had to deal with the ‘echoes’ from her past. The authors writing is excellent and not a word is wasted or out of place. I will be looking forward to reading the authors next novel. Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC of this novel in return for an honest review.

Hannah, an Australian woman, lives in a flat with her boyfriend Max. When Max dies, he finds he remains in the flat as a ghost. The novel switches between ‘Before’, Max and Hannah’s relationship before his demise; ‘After’, Hannah’s grief; and ‘Then’ which takes us back to Hannah’s life in Australia.
The Echoes is a powerful novel, beautifully written, covering a number of heavy themes in a warm, unique way.

This novel was masterfully written. Flickering between the perspectives of before then and now, the reader is taken through the life, or rather afterlife, of a ghost who is trapped in his flat that he previously inhabited with his girlfriend. The novel is carried through with a rather dark and mournful tone, and yet I couldn't help but also sense a bit of hope as I was reading. Perhaps that indicates a deeper meaning to this novel: the beauty in life after death, and what it truly means to continue living without our loved ones physically beside us.

At its core, Wyld created such an intimate narrative that deals with grief and loss, and the way in which this 'echoes' through our life for eternity. Grief never goes silent, we just lean into the noise and gently grasp at whatever whispers we can retrieve of our loved ones.

Thank you so much to NetGalley and Random House UK, Vintage for the e-ARC

Ooof. I’m a fan of Evie Wyld’s books and was really looking forward to The Echoes, and I’m happy to say it delivered in all the ways I expected. There’s a proliferation of books and movies that examine the ripple effects of trauma, and while that can become fatiguing, I’ve found myself in a position in the past year where grief, memory, family, trauma and echoes of the past have become an important part of everyday life.

Evie Wyld’s storytelling is often touched by darkness, without moving into horror tropes. In The Echoes, we move between several key players, including Max — a ghost who remains in the home he shared with his girlfriend, Hannah. Like David Lowery’s film A Ghost Story, this isn’t a supernatural tale, but rather a story haunted by key moments in the timeline of a relationship, a family, a home and a country. Don’t go in expecting a horror story, but be prepared for the horrors of what a lifetime can entail.

Wyld has a beautiful writing style, and I liked the dual perspectives used to tell the story, although they occasionally took me a moment to piece things together. The ending was especially poignant and beautiful.

This is a heartbreakingly beautiful story of the power of generational trauma. The two POV characters are partners Max and Evie and the story is told in a before, then and after structure switchin between London where they live and Australia, where Evie grew up. Max recently deceased in an unknown accident is stuck his flat that he shared with Evie, as he watches her grieve and try to move on with her life. The often tense dynamics of their relationship are slowly and the reasons for why Evie is so closed off on the topic of her family are revealed.

Not an easy read but for sure a fascinating one. This is a story about grief, loss and the values of a human relationship that will devastate you - in the best way.

this book is a beautiful autopsy of a lost but loving relationship & the complications of life after death. it deals very well with max’s perspective, his observations & the reflections of someone watching his past life fade away from him. it reminded me a lot of A Ghost Story, a film directed by David Lowery from 2017 (go have a watch), especially in how it portrays the loneliness of both characters. i liked the dual narratives as it reveals both sides of the grief & heartbreak from two completely different perspectives, however i started to feel lost when other characters started to have chapters as well, especially when they hadn’t been integrated into the plot before. it got to the point where i felt pretty confused but still enjoyed the exploration of generational trauma. unfortunately the thing i most enjoyed about the plot lost its significance & that was max. still an enjoyable read nonetheless & very beautiful writing.

The Echoes / Evie Wyld

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Max didn’t believe in an afterlife. Until he died. Now, as a reluctant ghost trying to work out why he is still here, he watches his girlfriend Hannah lost in grief in the apartment they shared and begins to realize how much of her life was invisible to him. In the weeks and months before Max’s death, Hannah was haunted by the secrets she left Australia to escape.

I think my main problem was that I went into this book imagining the plot in one way then realised straight away it wasn’t what I expected 🙈 it took some time for me to realise that, just because it’s not what I expected, it doesn’t mean that I won’t like it!

I liked the chapters that were called “After”. These were the chapters about Max seeing what Hannah is up to. This is what I expected the whole book to be like so I found them my favourite parts. I would have liked more of these chapters actually!

I found it quite difficult to keep up with who was who and what the section was about when it was the “Before” chapters. I think this is a book that’s best being read in long stretches - found it easier to follow when I read for an hour rather than 10 minutes at a time.

I imagine people who like anything else by the author would enjoy this! There’s definitely a unique writing style! It felt very poetic and beautiful which also made it great to imagine in my head.

A beautiful multiple perspective exploration of female generational trauma that gently pulls you in and wraps you in its story. Full of secrets, ghosts, darkness and light, I didn’t want it to end. The layers of storytelling travel backwards and forwards across time and continents and piece together in an emotionally satisfying way, like laying the correct piece in a jigsaw and the image revealing itself to be more detailed and vivid than you’d imagined. Evie Wyld never fails to impress and this book will stay with me for a long time.