‘Days of Light’ by Megan Hunter is a poetic exploration of key moments in a woman’s life. Ivy is nineteen in 1938 and muddling long in her talented parents’ wake – bohemian artists with devoted partners who worship creativity and look down on the ordinary life. Ivy’s brother, Joseph, down from Oxford, has invited his girlfriend, Frances, for Easter. Ivy is excited for him and swept up by the romance of it all.

Easter 1938 will become the time ‘before’ for all those gathered for the celebration. The time ‘after’ is irredeemably altered by one catastrophic event.

Megan Hunter takes six days over the next six decades to focus on how Ivy responds to the tragedy. This exploration of how a single event can influence and affect one’s decisions, opinions, tastes and beliefs is beautifully written and often very moving. Over the course of her life, we see Ivy as a daughter, a wife, a mother, a lover, experiencing various iterations of a Christian life, as well as one where faith makes no sense at all. Yet nearing the end of her life, ‘…Ivy can feel God so close; just at her elbow. How much she is forgiven she knows: how much they are all forgiven in the end.’ Light is a recurring motif but, whilst Ivy thinks frequently of God, a pantheistic vision of the universe is also present throughout the novel.

This is a quiet, reflective read which ruminates on the depths of despair, the pinnacles of joy and everything else in-between. Thoroughly absorbing.

My thanks to NetGalley and Pan Macmillan for a copy of this book in exchange for a fair review.

This was a beautiful book that reminded me a little of Mothering Sunday by Graham Swift in places. I enjoyed the writing itself and found myself captivated by Ivy's story over the years. Well worth a read.

Many thanks to the author, publisher and Netgalley for providing an ARC of this book in exchange for an unbiased review.

This is an undeniably beautiful book. Evocative, atmospheric and with sumptuous descriptions of nature and wildlife, it's a coming of age story which charts six specific days in the lifetime of Ivy, a young girl born in 1918 from an artistic and unconventional family.

Ivy is just 19 years old when we first meet her in 1938 and the book follows her emotional, spiritual and sexual awakening over the course of a lifetime. A relatively short book, there's real clarity to Megan Hunter's story-telling with a lot of emotion and feeling packed into concise, insightful prose.

The storyline itself is heavy on religious symbolism and imagery though, which is not particularly to my personal taste, and I found it difficult to relate to Ivy. Her internal monologue and reasoning often felt self-indulgent, particularly given the hardship and loss that so many would have suffered during this period in history. Ivy's life is largely untouched by the war she lives through. Although it's hinted that she becomes politically active in later life, there's no indication that she feels any particular conviction of belief or compassion for those around her, ironic given the overall theme of the book.

A beautifully written book with exceptionally descriptive writing, it'll undoubtedly resonate more with some readers than with other.s

This was such a pleasure to read! I've long been a fan of Megan Hunter's writing, and although this was written so differently from her other novels – almost in the style of a mid-century classic – I enjoyed it just as much. It tells the story of Ivy, a nineteen-year-old with a bohemian family in 1938, and what happens to change her life. I wouldn't say I loved this because there were moments of abstractness that I didn't always get, but I really appreciated it as a whole: there were moments of beautiful interiority, such vivid and immersive descriptions of the world around Ivy, and the whole book felt very of its era. A big recommend from me and one I would like to reread just to take it all in again!

Days of Light is a real departure from The Harpy and The End We Start From thematically, but so distinctly written in Hunter’s stunningly lyrical prose. A beautiful novel about loss and grief, about love and desire, about hope and faith. A book about finding purpose in an ever-changing, complicated world. About family, motherhood and belonging, and how we relate to those we love at different stages of life, especially at times when we ourselves feel untethered. An outstanding novel that I think readers of Sarah Winman’s Still Life will love. Already cannot wait for Megan Hunter’s next book (will devour anything she writes!)

A big thank you to the lovely Picador team for the opportunity to read this one ahead of publication!

Days of Light evokes inter-war years England beautifully, with some nostalgia, but also dread of the looming Second World War. Happy, carefree country life is overshadowed by that impending doom, deflecting the reader from the more domestic disaster that befalls the family. The novel is full of hiatus, waiting, unknowing and of things unsaid. It is a book of manners and the damage done by the unspoken and that which might have been done, but which was not. But it’s not a book of regret as such. It’s a novel about discovery and striving to do the right thing, come what may. Mistakes are made, understood and characters strive to make amends, not always successfully.
But mistakes, we learn, can be rectified. Change is in the air and Ivy, the main character, finds her salvation ultimately not in the old world she grew up in, but in a world she could hardly have dreamed of.
A riveting read,

This beautifully written book begins on Easter Sunday in 1938. Ivy is 19 and unsure what comes next in her life. She lives in the family home, Cressingdon, with her mother and her mother's partner, who has other relationships as well. Her father left a long time ago, living with various other women, but is still involved in family life, as is longtime family friend, Bear. There's excitement on this day because Joseph, Ivy's older brother is home from Oxford for the holiday and everyone is looking forward to meeting his girlfriend, Frances, for the first time. On this Easter morning, no one knows that before the day ends, tragedy will strike, changing everyone's lives in profound ways. The book continues from there, telling Ivy's story through the decades, with each chapter a day in her life.

Ivy is clearly a seeker of something, although even she isn't sure what she's looking for other than a place to belong. She is surrounded by artists of one kind or another, but she herself doesn't seem to have any spectacular ability or interest in any artistic pursuits. Her education has been quite poor. She thinks about God and has fond, comforting memories of going to church with her grandmother. She feels most at home outside and indeed, it is outdoors on the family estate where she first 'sees the light' which will be with her for the rest of her life. As we follow Ivy on particular days in the decades to come, seeing the light, whether metaphorically or in reality is a recurring theme(thus the title of the book).

This is a wonderful book. The writing is exquisite. The structure works well as we see Ivy growing into a more secure sense of who she is. We also see the society around her changing. It's a coming of age story of a sort because even though Ivy is 19 when the book opens, she is very naive and acts much younger. This book was my introduction to this author's work and I enjoyed it so much that I'm now reading her previous books. If you enjoy character-driven narratives, books about women's lives, the search for self and a place to belong, and/or historical fiction, I can enthusiastically recommend this book.

I loved ivy and I really appreciate the style of the author. "Literally" is a book that I would highly recommend to others because I enjoyed the entire story. The character development was impressive, and overall, I think it's a solid read that deserves four stars from me.

In her debut novel(la) The End We Start From, recently turned into a movie, Megan Hunter gave her personal poetic twist to the post-apocalyptic genre, imagining a near-future where waters are inexplicably rising, laying waste to towns and cities. In her second novel, The Harpy, Hunter ventured into “domestic thriller” territory, with a feminist tale about motherhood and patriarchy, laced with mythical elements and more than a twist of horror.

At face value, Days of Light, Hunter’s most recent literary outing is a “realist” novel, which follows the life of Ivy, a woman from an artistic, bohemian family, from her teenage years before the Second World War up to her death in 1999. We first meet Ivy on Easter Sunday 1938, a day marked by a perplexing tragedy that signals a watershed in the protagonist’s life. What follows is an intriguing character study, with elements of the historical novel, as Hunter and her protagonist deftly move from one momentous decade to another, each brilliantly evoked.

The novel may be imbued with realism, but the narration has a dreamlike element to it, where the mysterious and the Transcendent are never far away. In fact, Ivy’s story is a journey in search of a destination beyond the self – an inquiry for the “meaning of life”, perhaps – which Ivy alternately seeks in abandonment to physical and spiritual passion (which sometimes appear to her as two sides of the same coin).

While the novel makes for a satisfying arc, most of its pleasures lie in individual passages exploring themes of memory, love and faith.

https://endsoftheword.blogspot.com/2025/02/days-of-light-by-megan-hunter.html

We first meet Ivy in 1938, at the age of 19, living in Sussex with her unconventional family. A tragic event on Easter Sunday shapes the rest of her life, and we revisit her at Easter in 1944, 1956, 1965, and 1999. While at its core a love story, the novel also explores how women’s choices evolved over the decades. It’s a deeply spiritual book, filled with reflections on faith and the nature of God.

The writing is lyrical and immersive, drawing me in with its rich imagery. I found myself completely absorbed in Ivy’s world, yet strangely detached from her choices. I wasn’t particularly invested in what happened to her, and by the end, I felt surprisingly unmoved. I’m not sure why—it wasn’t a lack of emotion in the writing, but perhaps a distance in the storytelling itself.

One stylistic choice I struggled with was the dialogue being in italics rather than quotation marks, especially when inner thoughts were formatted the same way, which caused occasional confusion. Despite this, I enjoyed the experience of reading the book. It wasn’t a story that deeply resonated with me, but it was beautifully written, and I was happy to be carried along by its quiet, meditative rhythm.

I was struck by the quality of Megan Hunter's writing, and very much enjoyed accompanying protagonist Ivy on six memorable days in her life. Although a little slow for me, places, Days of Light is a journey of life and loss, but ultimately of love.

Days of Light is Megan Hunter's first foray into historical fiction and what a treat it is. This novel is sublime. I read Megan's previous release, The Harpy, and loved that also so I was keen to read her next release without delay. There's a quality to her writing that sets her apart from the masses. The way this story unfolds as well, six chapters, six days, over six decades, was such a unique way to tell a story, but it worked, it worked so well.

Days of Light is a story of love and loss, of seeking that one thing that is meant to fulfil, of seeking answers to the mystery of a life changing loss. There is a spirituality to this story that I appreciated and a vulnerability to Ivy, the protagonist, that was deeply affecting. The sense of time and place was richly realised throughout, no mean feat as the story took place across so many decades. Throughout this story, I was reminded, over and over, that it is never too late, for anything, and that sometimes, the answer is quite simply, that there is no answer.

Beautifully written, Days of Light is a stunning novel, and it left me with a serious book hangover that was impossible to shake.

Thanks to the publisher for the review copy

We first meet Ivy at Easter time in 1938 when she is 19 years old, living with her Bohemian family in Sussex, England. A tragedy that day stays with her forever, shaping much of her life. We visit her again at Easter in 1944, 1956, 1965 and 1999. It’s a love story but also a depiction of how women’s life choices changed in the West over these years. It’s a very spiritual book with much reflection on the nature of God.

The writing and the imagery lulled me along like a Field nocturne. I didn’t want to stop reading. I found myself lost in Ivy’s world yet there was little in her life with which I could identify. I didn’t much care what choices she made and I finished the book feeling totally unmoved. Why is that? I don’t know. I liked the style of writing but hated the dialogue being in italics with no quotation marks. Sometimes the italicised sentences were thoughts rather than speech which was momentarily confusing. I’m not blown away but nevertheless I enjoyed it the experience of reading it.

With thanks to NetGalley and Pan MacMillan for a review copy.

A luminous masterpiece destined for the Booker shortlist

Some novels are read, others are experienced, but Days of Light by Megan Hunter is a rare work that feels as if it has been dreamt. Like sunlight fracturing through glass, its prose illuminates even the darkest corners of life, leaving a kaleidoscope of wonder in its wake. This is a shimmering meditation on existence, as ephemeral and beautiful as the light that threads its pages.

Hunter’s narrative follows Ivy, an artist of life as much as canvas, across six transformative days spanning six decades. From an enchanted Easter Sunday in 1938 to the reflective quietude of her twilight years, Ivy’s life unfolds like the unfurling of petals, fragile yet eternal. The story pivots around a single moment: an unearthly light by a riverside, both a literal vision and a metaphor for the elusive truths Ivy spends her life chasing. What was it? God, love, art, memory—all of these and none. Hunter’s genius lies in leaving the question unanswered, trusting the reader to inhabit the uncertainty as Ivy does.

The writing is luminous, as if each word were dipped in morning dew. Hunter’s prose moves like a whispered prayer—fragmentary, elliptical, but resonant with profound clarity. Her sentences seem to glow from within, suffused with a quiet reverence for life’s fleeting beauty. This is language as light, capturing not just the seen but the felt, the heard, the intuited. Reading it feels less like consuming a story and more like stepping into a cathedral of words, where each line is a stained-glass window, casting colour and shadow across the soul. A prayer.

Themes of love, God, and art are woven through the novel with an effortless grace. Yet it is motherhood that stands as the novel’s central motif, presented not as an abstract ideal but as a visceral, grounding force. Ivy’s relationships—with her children, her mother, and herself—are etched with a clarity that cuts to the bone. The novel speaks to the generative power of women’s lives, their ability to transform grief into light, love into legacy.

Hunter’s choice to structure the novel around six pivotal days is a masterstroke, distilling a life into its most resonant chords. Each chapter is like a single brushstroke in a vast painting, creating a portrait of a woman defined not by grand gestures but by quiet revolutions of the heart. The narrative’s fragmentary nature mirrors memory itself, and as Ivy revisits her past, the reader is invited to do the same, tracing the shape of their own moments of light.

And then there is the light itself—Hunter’s recurring motif, a presence that transcends understanding. It is not merely a plot device but a character in its own right, as ineffable and essential as breath. It is a stand-in for everything we cannot name but feel: the divine, the sublime, the enduring mystery of why we are here. Through Ivy’s journey, Hunter reminds us that life’s greatest truths are not meant to be grasped but held lightly, like sunlight caught in cupped hands.

Days of Light is a novel that leaves you awed and hushed, as if you’ve stepped out of a gallery where the paintings seemed to breathe. It’s a book to return to, to linger over, to carry with you like a talisman. Hunter has crafted a radiant masterpiece, a hymn to life’s fleeting beauty and enduring mystery. Surely, this is the work of an author at the height of her powers—a Booker-worthy triumph, a true symphony of light.

My thanks to Picador for an ARC via NetGalley

Megan Hunter’s debut novel “The End We Start From” was a ruthlessly pared back and fragmentary novella/prose poem which was a mythological and religious text infused oblique meditation on new motherhood and climate change set in a future dystopian submerged London.

Her second novel (again really more a novella) “The Harpy” was a razor sharp examination of infidelity, parenthood and female revenge which draws very heavily on the legend of the Harpy.

This is her third novel – due out later in 2025 – and, particularly early on seems very different to her earlier writing with languid, reflective and almost mannered prose which contrasts to the jaggedness of her first two novels. Motherhood is present but less so than before and while mythical/religious elements are central they are more explicitly Christian/spiritual here (particularly as the novel progresses – although an opening epigraph from John 1:5 sets both the religious and thematic tone: “And the light shineth in darkness: and the darkness comprehended it not”.

And some of this also I think reflects the temporal setting – this book actually steps forwards in time over many decades, but unlike her near future first novel or contemporary second, this is all in the past – taking place from the 1930s to the 1990s – the Guardian’s Alex Preston in his fiction preview of 2025 describing it (not entirely inaccurately) as “One Day written by (and starring) Virginia Woolf”.

The novel opens in Easter Sunday 1938 – at Cressingdon, a large house in the Sussex Countryside where a bohemian family group of artists and writers gather: Ivy the novel’s main protagonist; her older brother Joseph (back from his Oxford college); his girlfriend Frances (who the family will meet for the first time but whose arrival is delayed); mother Marina (an artist) and her lover (and better known/more successful artist) Angus; father Gilbert (who lives away from the family home with the latest in a series of female partners) and Bear (the family’s nickname for their old family friend Rupert), Marina’s sister and brother in law (a novelist and occasional playwright respectively).

Much of the initial section can feel very old fashioned and over wrought reflecting both Ivy’s uncertainty on the verge of adulthood and her mother’s artistic temperament and pretentions “for Marina, food and art were incompatible in some way, just as religion and art where, and even politics and art to a certain degree. The borders of art needed to be policed, it seemed, kept safe from intruders of body or mind” – with increasingly ominous world events at best a background.

The culmination of the chapter and the episode around which Ivy’s life (and the novel) then revolves is when she and Frances go for a traditional first swim in the river that runs through the grounds – only for Ivy to be overcome by an unworldly light while Joseph disappears (assumed drowned).

From there we move to Joseph’s funeral and an impulsive relationship Frances forms with Bear – and then we start to move forward a decade or so at a time (but longer at the end):

April 1944 and Ivy now marrieds to Bear and settled into motherhood (of two young daughters) but a lightning storm, a rooftop vigil watching for bombs and then a fire at Cressingdon throw Ivy and Francis unexpectedly but thrillingly together.

April 1956 and the newly widowed Ivy, at a loss when Frances decides to put domestic life first, finds herself in church for a Maundy Thursday service which proves a transformative experience.

April 1965 and Ivy is in a convent but with her mother dying re-encounters Frances.

And then Easter Sunday 1999 as Ivy approaches the end of her own life.

All through though she is drawn back to that first fateful Easter, seeing to understand what the light she encounters was, what it tells her of this world and of God – drawn back both to her own memory of her beloved brother and her relationship with his erstwhile lover (and now hers), to understand her own mother and children. Images of the past recur as does in particular the titular idea of light and also that of love.

Overall, an intriguing novel and not one I was really expecting: I was perhaps most reminded of the writing of Francis Spufford and his “Light Perpetual” than I was of the author’s earlier works and I will be interested nearer the time of publication to understand more of the drivers behind her writing and conception of the novel.

Days of Light by Megan Hunter is a poignant exploration of a life shaped by both love and loss, set against the backdrop of a rapidly changing world. The story begins on Easter Sunday, 1938, when Ivy, a nineteen-year-old at the cusp of adulthood, eagerly awaits the arrival of a longed-for guest. Her bohemian family gathers in the idyllic Sussex countryside, and while Britain teeters on the brink of war, the day feels suspended in a timeless moment of possibility.

The day takes a tragic turn, setting the course for Ivy’s future and propelling the reader through six pivotal days spread across six decades. Each day marks a significant moment in Ivy's journey, offering a glimpse into the various stages of her life. Hunter's writing beautifully captures these moments, weaving through Ivy's experiences of love, self-discovery, and the search for answers to life’s deeper questions.

The narrative has a unique structure, beginning in the pre-war era, where Ivy’s family, with its unconventional dynamics, is as much an artistic and intellectual collective as it is a family. With an air of fluid sexuality and artistic expression, Ivy’s mother, Marina, lives in a bubble of work-focused isolation, oblivious to the lives unfolding around her. The family housekeeper, Anne, brings a sense of control and order to the household, yet her presence contrasts the swirling chaos within the family.

The tone of the book is delicate, almost timeless, with Hunter's lyrical prose creating a sense of an “old-fashioned” sensibility. The exploration of love, loss, and family dynamics is both intimate and sweeping. While the narrative may be considered contemporary, there’s an undeniable sense of nostalgia that permeates the book, evoking a world that feels far removed from the present.

Ivy’s journey is both deeply personal and universally relatable as she navigates the complexities of relationships, self-worth, and the inexorable passage of time. Days of Light is a beautifully written, emotionally resonant tale that will stay with you long after the final page, offering a meditation on life’s fleeting moments and the enduring search for meaning in a world on the verge of great change. Highly recommended for those who enjoy reflective, character-driven stories set against the ebb and flow of history.

Read more at The Secret Book Review.

Megan Hunter writes so beautifully. Days of Light is the first novel I have read of hers and I was captivated by the quality of the writing. We spend six days in Ivy’s life, over a period of years, and we experience grief, love and a searching for something - grace? Light? Spiritual joy? In the end it feels very much a book about love.

This is a rather strange story; one in which nothing much happens, but everything happens. All reviewed from the perspective of a single day at different times in Ivy’s life. It starts with a very upper class setting; a family gathering at the country estate in 1938. Ivy is 19 and on the cusp of adulthood and looking forward to this Easter weekend gathering, unaware how events will shape her. I felt I started to knowIvy as a person; her character, aspirations etc and warmed to her. The family was an odd bunch, but it’s rich in detail and I was soon involved in her and their interests.

Using a single point of reference on five further occasions in Ivy’s life is an unusual narrative tool and by and large it works, It’s interesting to reflect on those threads that bind us and Megan Hunter has selected an eclectic mix of influences throughout Ivy’s life over some sixty decades. Her writing is effortless. It flows beautifully and it’s a story to devour with ease. That takes a real skill and there wasn’t a moment where I was irritated by clunkiness or contrivance. Absolutely 5* for such exceptional writing. I thought the best part was the Easter 1938 gathering which reminded me of Elizabeth Jane Howard and the Cazalet chronicles. I think Howard is outstanding in this genre, but Megan Hunter’s writing is better. I haven’t read her earlier books and on the basis of this read will be looking these out.

What at first, seemed a captivating read featuring fictional "also rans" of a Bloomsbury type set, seemed, to me, very quickly to run out of momentum. Our protagonist Ivy who we follow from her late teens to her 80s through six specfic days on which (it is assumed) she felt her life turned is a great idea.

For me, the first section - 1938, foreshadowed in parallel with the time period. Whilst the story landed in different periods of the twentieth century, none had the same resonance, combining time/place and actions. I accept that certain periods of life/time are indistinct as we travel through them but this largely all hinged on one day despite the introduction of a variety of paths of self-discovery. No other "stopping point" seemed to carry the same gravitas of the first.

This may have been a deliberate writing choice to look at early moments of our life that end up defining both ourselves and our place in the world but there were some huge choices made or stumbled upon that I felt could have been written so that they added to our understanding of Ivy and changing times.

The writing is lovely and I did enjoy inhabiting Ivy's world but my gut feeling was that it needed significant pruning to the straggly areas and significant embellishment in others.

With thanks to #NetGalley and #PanMacmillan #Picador for allowing me the opportunity to read and review

The reader accompanies Ivy on six important days in her life. A extraordinary, ordinary life with its hardships, with its joys. Far from heteronormative stereotypes, a gentle book, a rare and curious gem.