A thoughtful book. A very different book than I was expecting and in a positive way. It made think and think and think. And even after I was finished I still feel this book has left a mark on me. I like this writer and will be looking forward to reading more.

This novel, looking at the worlds of art and war is tenderly written, with a gorgeous focus on the inner worlds of characters. I found this a beautiful and thought-provoking read.

I received a digital copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

3/5 Stars – Lyrical but Uneven Historical Novel

Megan Hunter’s Days of Light is an ambitious, lyrical novel that seeks to capture the sweep of a life across decades, framed around six pivotal days in the life of Ivy. Beginning with an Easter Sunday gathering in 1938 and stretching through the Second World War and into the shifting cultural landscapes of the twentieth century, the book promises both intimacy and breadth, weaving together personal love stories with historical resonance. It is, in many ways, a novel about how individual choices—fraught, fleeting, or even accidental—can reverberate across a lifetime.

The book opens with considerable promise. Ivy is nineteen, restless, and caught in that liminal space between youth and adulthood. The Easter gathering in Sussex is richly described, filled with the kind of sensual, impressionistic detail Hunter excels at. The atmosphere of a bohemian family on the cusp of change is evocative, and when the day ends in tragedy, the novel quickly establishes itself as a story not just of light but of shadow. The funeral that follows introduces the two central figures in Ivy’s adult life—the man she will marry and the woman who will become the true love of her life. This duality, both conventional and transgressive, is at the heart of the novel and is handled with subtlety rather than melodrama.

Hunter’s prose is, without question, her greatest strength. The novel shimmers with carefully crafted sentences, each image considered, each rhythm deliberate. Comparisons to Virginia Woolf and the Bloomsbury Group are not unfounded—this is writing that prioritizes mood, interiority, and sensory impressions over straightforward narrative. At its best, this style captures the fleeting beauty of a moment and the way memory distorts, fragments, and reshapes lived experience. There are passages where the writing is nothing short of luminous.

And yet, the same style that makes the novel radiant also undermines its impact. At times, the prose feels more concerned with being beautiful than with moving the story forward. Characters remain at a distance, often more like figures in a tableau than fully fleshed-out people. Ivy herself, while central, never quite becomes vivid enough to anchor the narrative across its six decades. Her relationships—particularly with her husband and her lover—are glimpsed in fragments, never fully developed, leaving the emotional stakes muted. The structural conceit of focusing on six days is intriguing but ultimately restrictive. Important events in Ivy’s life are alluded to but rarely dramatized, which can leave the reader detached from her journey.

There is also a lingering sense that the novel is too enamored with its influences. Hunter gestures toward Woolf, toward the Bloomsbury spirit of intellectual freedom and sexual fluidity, but rarely does the book transcend homage to find something sharper or more original. For readers who admire luminous prose above all else, Days of Light will undoubtedly enchant. For others, the lack of narrative momentum and emotional depth may frustrate.

Ultimately, Days of Light is a novel that glows in fragments but flickers in total. It is a book of moods, images, and fleeting beauty, but not one that leaves a lasting emotional imprint. Megan Hunter has created something elegant and atmospheric, but also somewhat insubstantial. Worth reading for its prose, but not wholly satisfying as a story.

I struggled with this book, beautifully written and interesting at points, I did not feel like it was my type of book. There was a lot of sadness and it made me sad reading it, which is not what I normally look for in my books.

My Shelf Awareness review: Megan Hunter's third novel, Days of Light, is an elegant exploration of love and loss in the life of an Englishwoman from the 1930s to the 1990s.

Ivy grows up among bohemian artists in Cressingdon House, Sussex, which Hunter modeled after the Bloomsbury Group, a collective of upper-class painters and writers. Her mother, Marina, and Marina's lover, Angus, are painters; other relatives and hangers-on are writers. On Easter Sunday in 1938, 19-year-old Ivy is wooed by a 44-year-old author, Bear--yet fascinated with Frances, her older brother Joseph's girlfriend.

The novel's six chapters each capture a pivotal April day, revealing wider cultural shifts and temporary states for Ivy--for instance, in 1944, her mindset is "babies and bombs." Hunter evokes wartime and postwar London and the countryside effectively, whether the specific setting is a jazz club, convent, or deathbed. That the chronology twice coincides with Easter allows for a sensitive tracing of Ivy's spiritual journey. Hers is a numinous world where a river might offer baptism or danger, and a light in the sky could be a divine sign or a fatal distraction.

Days of Light is something of a departure for Hunter after an environmental dystopia (The End We Start From) and a mythology-infused contemporary-set tale of betrayal and revenge (The Harpy). But Hunter's three novels are linked by keen insight into marriage and motherhood. Here, again, the language is the star: it's lyrical, precise, and reminiscent of Tessa Hadley's. Imagery of light counterbalances the somber message that grief never diminishes. This is ideal for readers who enjoyed Yael van der Wouden's The Safekeep, and a leap forward for Hunter. (3.5 stars)

This novel unfolds in an unusual but compelling way—centered around a single day that recurs at different points in Ivy’s life. Not much happens in a traditional plot sense, yet everything does. It begins in 1938, at a grand Easter weekend gathering on a country estate. Ivy is 19, just stepping into adulthood, full of hopes and unaware of how this weekend will quietly shape the course of her life. I found myself drawn to her—her personality, her dreams—and quickly grew attached. Her family is a quirky, privileged bunch, but their dynamics are written with such rich detail that I was soon immersed in their world.

The structure—revisiting Ivy’s life through the lens of this same day across six decades—is bold and surprisingly effective. Megan Hunter weaves in a diverse array of experiences and influences that mark Ivy’s journey, reflecting on the threads that stay with us over time. The prose is graceful and precise, never overdone. It’s the kind of writing that feels effortless to read but clearly takes real skill to craft. Not once did it feel clunky or forced.

The standout section for me was the 1938 Easter weekend—it had all the layered, intimate family detail I love in Elizabeth Jane Howard’s Cazalet Chronicles. And honestly, while I hold Howard in high regard, I think Hunter’s writing here surpasses it. This is the first book I’ve read by her, but it certainly won’t be the last. An easy 5 stars for both style and substance.

Six days, spanning from 1938 to 1999, tell the story of Ivy, a fascinating and complex woman haunted by her own thoughts, and by loss.

Each day is recounted with intricate and exquisite detail, that allow us to know Ivy intimately. She is a woman who keeps hidden so much of who she is. A woman who longs for a purpose but finds it impossible to know what that is.

A woman who finds her great love in the most unexpected of times, and experiences true happiness. Followed by searing grief that sees her find a spiritual path she would never have predicted.

I for one, am glad she took a different path on Day 5, a path that brought her the peace and purpose she so longed for.

Beautiful writing that demands a slow and considered reading, taking time to feel the emotion the words provoke.

Megan Hunter’s story was inspired by a visit to Charleston the Sussex site that’s close to sacred for followers of the Bloomsbury Group. Here Virginia Woolf’s sister, artist Vanessa Bell, lived with her children and her lover, fellow painter Duncan Grant. Hunter’s novel revolves around Ivy a character loosely based on Bell’s daughter Angelica, a peripheral figure in Bloomsbury circles. Set over decades but centred on six separate April days, this opens on Easter Sunday 1938 and concludes on Easter Sunday 1999. The structure’s consciously indebted to Woolf’s Mrs Dalloway; but there are echoes too of works like The Years.

Each section boasts stretches of lyrical, sometimes elliptical, imagery and enigmatic scenes - potent reminders of Hunter’s grounding in poetry. Although there were times when her style was a little too languid, too self-consciously literary, for my personal taste. Hunter’s narrative parallels but doesn’t entirely correspond to the actual facts of Angelica’s life. I found tracing the connections between Ivy and - what I know about - Angelica Garnett and husband David ‘Bunny’ Garnett fascinating. Bunny, one of Duncan Grant’s former lovers, spent a great deal of time at Charleston. Here Bunny becomes Bear, like Garnett he’s much, much older than Ivy. Bear too is revealed to have been embroiled with Duncan’s equivalent Angus. Hunter’s adept at teasing out the unsettling dynamics of Ivy and Bear’s subsequent marriage: Ivy’s initial innocence, her gradual slide into disillusionment. But, at the same time, the architecture of the piece made it difficult to fully immerse myself in Ivy’s experiences and emotions.

Hunter’s particularly preoccupied with the intricacies of relationships between mothers and daughters: Ivy and her mother; and, later, Ivy and her own daughters. She’s interested in examining tensions between art and the everyday especially for women; the divide between inner worlds and desires and domestic demands. All of these are worthy enough subjects but, despite a Sapphic storyline, I didn’t find Hunter’s perspective that engaging – perhaps because my own ideas around art and artistic creation just don’t mesh with the author’s. Another area where our worldviews essentially clash links to the novel’s marked spiritual dimension. Hunter’s drawing on aspects of her personal history – her period of study for ordination in the Anglican ministry, something she later decided not to pursue. There’s an emphasis on questions of “faith” originating in a tragedy that, for Ivy, sparks a strange, otherworldly epiphany. All tangled up with Ivy’s attempts to come to terms with grief, loss and her ongoing, existential uncertainties. Again, perfectly valid avenues of exploration just not ones that really resonated with me. Some reviewers have compared Hunter’s narrative to books like Graham Swift’s hugely successful Mothering Sunday - another piece I struggled with. So, not the right fit for me but anyone who enjoyed the Swift, or similar, shouldn’t be put off by that.

Sublime. This wonderful new book from Megan Hunter is as good as I hoped it would be. Examining the effects that one day and one tragic event can have on a person and their family, as readers we return each decade to experience the depths and far reaching lengths this event has. Love, sadness, forgiveness are all beautifully woven through Megan's prose. Totally absorbing and engaging, beautiful.

Days of Light follows the life of Ivy. Her story is one of love and loss, told on 6 pivotal days, spanning 6 decades. It is packed full of melancholy and sorrow but absolutely beautiful. My reluctance for it to end was only tempered by how much I loved the ending. This is the sort of book that feels quiet but is hugely affecting.

This is one of those rare books that takes you on a journey over decades without feeling like any time has passed. Beautifully written, Days of Light follows Frances and Ivy from almost sisters-in-law to end of life friends. Through the loss, war, death and rebirth, you will love every single word.

I don't even want to put in a synopsis. Just read it!

I really enjoyed this decade-spanning novel and loved the central character - I did find so many of the defining events of her life happening on or near the same day a little contrived but it didn't detract from my enjoyment of the story. Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC.

Not for me I’m afraid, but many thanks to the publisher for the opportunity to read an advance copy.

If you read Megan Hunter's debut, The End We Start From you'll be familiar with her pared back, incisive prose. The novel was a moving examination of new motherhood and survival in a flooded world, and in 2023 was made into a successful film starring Jodie Comer. * Her new novel, Days of Light, which I read as a free copy on NetGalley in return for a review, couldn't be more different in style. Lyrical and flowing the novel is flooded with descriptions of light. And how it feels to be alive, to lose someone and to love someone.

Loosely based on the Bloomsbury group of artists (so well known they need no introduction) living their experimental, bohemian lives in the 1920s and 30s, it focuses on nineteen year old Ivy, who isn't very artistic and feels excluded from her parents complex relationships, unloved by her mother.

It's not a book of action, but of slow revealing and shows us Ivy's life on six different days, ten years apart from youth to old age.

There are so many descriptions it's hard to choose my favourite - on an e-reader I'm constantly highlighting phrases and sentences that ring out. Here are a few from throughout the novel:

She could not see the water, but could hear its voice, the low sound of a long journey.

But there was a light, unquestionably increasing in brightness, moving towards them, steady with intention.

Outside, the grass was so bright it seemed impossible that death existed, that anyone could die.

the smell of flowers so strong it seemed to liquefy, to run along her blood.

A beautiful book which, despite it's sombre tone, is full of light and love. A pleasure to read. Published April 2025 by Picador.

* I'd completed the first draft of my own flood novel and read The End We Start From with a writer's envy and admiration. In that time Megan Hunter's novel has been published and made into a film; mine, The River Brings The Sea (thank you Lendal Press!) is due out at the end of 2025. This whole writing business is a game of chance.

From an almost perfect Easter Sunday in 1938 with good weather, a family gathering in a beautiful country home in south Sussex, to a tragedy on that day, the story shows how one pivotal event affects those close to them. Spanning six decades, this tale is about loss, longing and the hope of resurrection.

This is the story of Ivy, a teenage girl who lives with her creative family of artists and writers although she doesn't share any of these skills despite trying her hand at them. She is close to her charming and clever brother who invites his friend and his new girlfriend to the Easter dinner. Ivy is drawn to both and the connection lasts a lifetime. We follow her life through six more Easters several years apart until 1999.

A poetic and intimate narrative with a rather tragic and passive protagonist, this is a book that needs to be read slowly in order to absorb the artistic merit. The light motif runs throughout and is apparent in the descriptions of the sunlight as it hits majestic buildings, for example, but mainly it is expressed through spirituality. The plot is straightforward and drops off after the first Easter into mundane living, where the focus is on longing and feeding the soul. Here is where the reader can revel in the author's skills to see the art in the ordinary.

Moving and incandescent, this novel is a work of art in itself.

The tragedy that occurs on Easter Sunday 1938 affects many lives. For Ivy, what promised to be a day of celebration is now associated with loss and guilt. But also incomprehension because she experienced something that day she can’t explain: a sudden burst of light that mesmerised her. Was its source something prosaic or more profound, divine in nature even?

‘For her whole life, she would wonder how to describe the light. It was not like a torch beam or a lantern. It had neither the gentleness of fire nor the simple glow of electricity.‘

We revisit Ivy on five other days over the course of the next six decades exploring how that single event influences her life, her relationships and even her faith. (The fact each of the six days are at Easter seems significant, evoking the idea of sacrifice but also resurrection.) We learn not just about the events of that particular day but what has happened in the intervening years. In many cases, the changes in her life – marriage, motherhood, emotional awakening – have come about not through conscious decisions but in response to others.

Ivy is someone who seems to be on a perpetual quest for fulfilment but unsure of where to find it. And she cannot let go of the mystery surrounding the tragedy or her own misgivings about her role in it, searching for answers (or a revelation) in all sorts of different ways.

The word I most often associated with Ivy was unmoored. ‘This is how life happens, Ivy realized, like a crowd of things and houses and people pushed by a tidal wave, moving towards her, over her. Life took place, and she was within it, but there seemed to be no control, no choice.’ At times Ivy seems to welcome the act of submission, the removal of personal choice.

She experiences a betrayal that I found particularly cruel and difficult to forgive. Only later in life does she take events into her own hands with an act that requires courage and a belief in the future.

Days of Light is a beautifully written story of love and loss, with a strong spiritual element and in which light is a recurring motif. It’s one of those books that reveals its many layers in a quiet, insightful way.

while it’s beautifully written I feel like I went into this book with another idea of what it was, while it mentions WW2 it’s not a big theme of the book.

The prose is beautiful and the book manages to be split into 6 days throughout different decades. It really shows the impact one tragedy can have for the rest of your life and those around.

The last chapter was my favorite one, I personally struggled a bit with the middle of the book as I quite couldn’t see where it was leading the reader

Thank you so much NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC

A fairly short read which didn’t inspire much interest. It sounded ambitious to be able to just have six days stretched out over of a persons life to describe the effects of an event but the result wasn’t a huge success.

Atmospheric and interesting, I enjoyed how the author explored the characters’ lives through the turns and changes of the different eras.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for the chance to read this ARC.

While there is a refined elegance to the writing, this novel felt like one I had read before. It reminded me in some ways of The Safekeep, a superior novel in my humble opinion, both in style and substance. I wasn’t a huge fan of the author’s acclaimed work The End We Start From, so perhaps this was always going to be an uphill struggle for me.

The religious epiphanies were grating, and by the time our protagonist decided to become a nun, I was ready to put the book aside. I probably should have seen it coming from the biblical epigraph.

I did plough on to the end but not without eye-rolling. I love a mid-century novel exploring class and sexuality but the format of this one, being set on six days over a period of years, and the emphasis on religious faith didn’t light my fire. 2/5 ⭐️