'Dark and brilliant.' SARAH MOSS
'A masterpience.' DAISY JOHNSON
'Extraordinary.' SARAH PERRY
'Hall has set a bar . . . Finely wrought, intellecutally brave and emotionally honest.'
In the bedroom above her immense studio at Burntcoat, the celebrated sculptor Edith Harkness is making her final preparations. The symptoms are well known: her life will draw to an end in the coming days.
Downstairs, the studio is a crucible glowing with memories and desire. It was here, when the first lockdown came, that she brought Halit. The lover she barely knew. A presence from another culture. A doorway into a new and feverish world.
'Sarah Hall makes language shimmer and burn . . . One of the finest writers at work today.'
'Wonderful . . . The writing goes down smoking hot onto the page.'
'I can think of no other British writer whose talent so consistently thrills, surprises and staggers . . . With Burntcoat she has solidified her status as the literary shining light we lesser souls aspire to.'