Owlish

‘Beguilingly eerie, richly textured, the pages of Owlish are drenched in strange beauty and menace. Like all the best fairy tales, it reveals the dark truths that we would rather not look at directly, and does so with a surreal and singular clarity.’

— Sophie Mackintosh, author of Cursed Bread

‘Dorothy Tse is a magnificent historian of unreal places. Her sage and serious characters are cast adrift in realities that are neither sage nor serious at all – and possibly impossible. Her parallel worlds and paradoxes brilliantly illuminate our own reality, with all its fictions masquerading as facts (and vice versa). Boundlessly creative, richly philosophical – I loved this book.’

— Joanna Kavenna, author of Zed

‘A magical and potent tale for these tyrannical times.’

— NoViolet Bulawayo, author of Glory

‘Tse joins the ranks of artists currently remaking the world, from Yoko Tawada to César Aira.’

— Joyelle McSweeney, author of Toxicon and Arachne

‘Owlish is so delightfully creepy, wonderful and strange.’

— Camilla Grudova, author of Children of Paradise

‘A bold, brilliantly absorbing read. This clever, mercurial portrait of an alternate Hong Kong lingers long after the last page.’

— Irenosen Okojie, author of Nudibranch

‘[A] surreal fantasy and the reading experience is demanding...you might ask yourself if it's worth the effort. On reaching the end you will surely conclude that it is...a very brave book.’

— David Mills, The Times

‘It’s tempting to call Owlish a fantasy, or an anti-fairytale. The book is not shy of drawing in references, including to Mephistopheles, Kant, the Brothers Grimm, Lewis Carroll, Kafka, Orwell and Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. However, Tse’s acerbic, freewheeling spirit is generically flirtatious, rather than genre-bound. She steals from the western canon with chutzpah and panache to create a subversive tale about perilous desire, high-rise bureaucracy and sophisticated corruption in a defenceless city under siege… Owlish wittily captures a recent crisis moment in Hong Kong, exploring a discombobulating state caught between civilisation and its discontents.’

—Kit Fan, Guardian

‘Owlish is the story of a city as much as it is the story of Q. Between his correspondence with a strange figure known only as Owlish and a ballerina figurine who has come to life, the professor is immersed and distracted enough not to notice the city and his university emptying out around him as the political situation deteriorates and falls into chaos. Tse’s style in Owlish, with its magical elements, suggests a more overtly political Italo Calvino, or Salman Rushdie with a lighter touch…the story is engrossing and the prose, translated by the always satisfying Natascha Bruce, a delight.’ 

— Jessa Crispin, Telegraph

‘[A] brilliantly unsettling fairytale.’

— Katie Goh, i-D

‘In Owlish Tse makes a compelling spectacle; demonstrating the price of apathy during oppressive administrations, suggesting how we might resist the unspeakable mechanisms of regime. She crafts a wondrous hinterland in her writing, imagining the waiting worlds we might dream ourselves into – if we try.’

— Annie Hayter, BIG ISSUE

‘I was blown away by the craft, inventiveness and humour of Owlish...A hallucinatory journey into the erotic imagination, Owlish is both a sly subversion of fairytales and a Kafkaesque portrait of life under an oppressive regime.’

— Madeline Feeney, The Bookseller

‘Owlish bears witness to a dream state, to a place where language doesn’t always work quite how it should, where the boundaries of deviance, obedience, and desire blur. Caught within these shades of reality, the automata whirs. A cranking becomes faintly audible. Tse weaves a kind of visceral, bodily syntax full of openings and shrouded things; tantalising always, whether for us or for our hero.’

— Marguerite Carson, The Skinny 

‘The many layers of Tse’s narrative demand rereading and offer up alternative and contrasting readings, making it a novel of dizzying complexity despite its relatively slim length. Owlish’s bizarre and unsettling imaginings are a dark funhouse mirror reflection of our current world whose relevance slowly reveals itself. I shall be surprised if I encounter a more urgent or powerful exploration of our dystopian reality over the course of this year.’

— Jonathan Thornton, Fantasy Hive