Not really my kind of thing, but interesting none the less, and very well written. Very much a book for someone who loves Orwell's 1984 and Animal Farm, as well.

I’ve always felt that what you can’t see is scarier than what you can see. Which is why ‘They’ is actually a truly terrifying book. A nightmarish scenario when you don’t know who ‘They’ are, if They will come for you, how They will come for you and when They will come for you.
“You won’t hear them coming. They don’t wear shoes”. To me, that was the most singularly horrifying line in the book.
Apparently, Kay Dick was a comparatively unknown writer and ‘They’ quickly fell into obscurity and out-of-print.
Let’s hope that this book gets a more deserved hearing on this publication. It’s an incredibly strong contender for the title of ‘Best Folk Horror’ piece of work

This is a dark dystopian novel that will stay in the recesses of your mind for some time.
Originally written as a series of short stories and placed together in one volume, these stories gove you an insight into the world and friendships of one character and how their lives are affected by the ‘they’.
‘They’ don’t belive in any form of art or emotion and either take property such as books or art away from you ir take action so you can never be creative again.
It will be a novel that the more time you reread, the more you will notice.
Strangly addictive and haunting.
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley in allowing me to read in return for a review.

This book deserves to be widely read after a long absence. The author has created a dystopian world which is never clearly defined. It is the ambivalence and the sparecity of detail that helps create an eerie sense of otherness. At times I was reminded of some of the lesser known John Wyndham stories but there is still a strong sense of uniqueness. The landscape seemed almost timeless and could have been an idyllic place if not for the constant feelings of unease.

"A dark, dystopian portrait of artists struggling to resist violent suppression—'queer, English, a masterpiece.'”

I mean, what's not to love about that? And I LOVE revived books that have gone out of print.. it's like finding buried treasure.

The only downside with this one was it was a little hard to follow. I couldn't tell for the longest time how the people related to one another... but I think that was the point. There were so many revolving characters--I think the point was not to get invested in the individuals, but rather to follow what They were doing. It kind of felt more like a free verse poem than prose.

Overall, amazing! Thank you for the ARC.

This reissue speaks to our modern times: queer, unsettling prose creates an atmosphere of unease for the unnamed artists who navigate an uncanny England populated with those only named as 'they'. Carmen Maria Machado's introduction illuminates some of the strangeness and quiet horror found in the text.

How exciting to rediscover a long-lost dystopian novel (1977), and read it along with an insightful essay by Carmen Maria Machado! We never quite know who “they” are. We are in a bucolic England where they would have everyone quietly g around their business anesthetized by TV while they ruthlessly pursue and repress artists and clear out cultural venues. The structure, a series of chapters loosely joined together, renders the idea that we are in a world of persecution and fear where things are not fully talked about but only half whispered.

I appreciate the vivid expressionist aesthetic of the novel, with the faceless and loud mob and the graphic details, and it made me think of Yoko Ogawa’s The Memory Police. The novel well reflects Kay Dick’s sense of isolation and silencing as a homosexual woman in a conformist England, but it is also timely and urgent as repression of intellectuals is still a common issue. Really an interesting read.

My thanks to Netgalley and Faber Books for a review copy in exchange for an honest review.
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"The sky a Prussian blue, the sea awash with sunlight, the beach a cinnamon stretch of sand. From where we stood the garden, high on the cliff, was an undulation of variegated green splashed here and there with the yellows, mauves, pinks of flowering shrubs. Clumps of rosemary and lavender grew like weeds. The profusion of scents intoxicated."

They is a strange, disquieting novel, full of bucolic imagery of an English summer, steadfastly but slowly being encroached on by the haunting, frightening "they" of the title.

"Sebastian gave me his hand. Suddenly, he pulled me to a stop. In front of us a young man ran, panting. He crashed into the bracken. Following him, more steadily, four men. Each man carried a thick coil of rope. They did not glance at us as they passed. My dog barked at them and ran after them . Sebastian whistled him back. We walked on, increasing our speed. As we came to the clearing, within sight of the estuary, we heard the screams. Then silence."

The book is basically a collection of short stories about a group of UK citizens who have moved to the country, as "they" are most numerous in the cities. These people are writers, painters, other artists (the book is very 1970s dystopia), and "they" do not approve of art. Art is regularly destroyed, artists are brutally killed, or are taken away as '"incurables" to what sound like closed institutions.

"An elderly man took over the empty cottage next to mine. He ignored all my greetings and sat in his garden sleeping most of the day. ‘Harmless now.’The shopkeeper mentioned my new neighbour. ‘They emptied him,’she whispered, then gloating, ‘Not a memory left!’I paid my bill and left. "

The book has a dreamy tone, the characters' lives keep going, and "they" only appear in in short, sharp flashes, which only makes them more frightening. It's quite beautifully written.

It's a disconcerting book, and I couldn't stop thinking about it for weeks after finishing it. Recommended if you like your dystopias strange and woozy, the colour of a 70s vintage photograph.

They by Kay Dick

A short novella first published in 1977 which inhabits a dystopian world which attempts to silence artists. There is little plot in this novella and different characters are introduced with each new chapter and their relationship to the narrator is never fully revealed. There is a sense of strangeness throughout, artists living in idyllic countryside yet eerily being observed by tourists and living in dread of when “They” will come and take them away.

The lack of detail certainly adds to the unease but it also makes it limited in scope as a story. There is throughout an undercurrent of the artist being the great truth teller to power and so pursued by authoritarian or totalitarian regimes. On a personal level I find this romanticisation of artists naive and rather egoistic, history has shown that artists are just as likely to be aiders and abettors (and certainly just as abusive with their personal power) as any other privileged group in society.

I wouldn’t recommend this novella unless you have a keen interest in dystopian fiction, (particularly when written by women).

I’m not sure how to describe this book. It’s not really a novel, more like a collection of short stories set in the same world. A dystopia where it’s not exactly clear what’s happening except that artists, writers, even gardeners if they’re into beauty, anything individual or emotional are not acceptable. There’s a menacing tone, ‘They’ are watching, removing books, taking people away or worse, returning them empty, memory-less. The intimidating atmosphere is quite powerful and as, I assume a criticism of conformity and the sterility of city living, it works well but as it doesn’t go into any depth about who ‘they’ are, there’s a feeling of incompleteness. Still an interesting short read.

What do you do when they are always waiting just around the corner? If they could show up unexpectedly and take away your books, your friends, your identity? That's at the heart of They, Kay Dick's 1977 dystopian masterpiece on censorship and fear. Preceded by a brilliant translation by Carmen Maria Machado, this new edition is priceless! Thanks to Faber & Faber and NetGalley for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Dystopian fiction was a cornerstone of me growing up. It is how I first, truly, encountered the ways in which populist politics, religion, and more can get exploited. While I saw it in the world to a certain extent, fiction brought it home in a way the news could not. Dystopian fiction also shows me my own growth. Comparing my opinions on The Handmaid's Tale when I first read it as a teenager and now shows me how far my own understanding and awareness has come. Having read 1984 I can now see how it is being used and abused by both parties on the political spectrum, while also appreciating the many thoughts it has introduced to popular culture. So when Machado discusses the importance of Dystopian fiction in her introduction I was completely on board. I read her introduction at the end of the book, wanting to go into They as fresh as possible, and it greatly enriched the experience I had.

They is a fractured tale, told in nine chapters that initially only seem vaguely related. We can't be sure whether the protagonist remains the same or whether she changes, whether she is telling a chronological tale or hops across her own timeline. While this may be challenging to some, I believe this is an example of form supporting plot. A continuous thread throughout They is that communication and connection is being destroyed by them, and the disjointed form of the novel is part of that. Our protagonist is desperately trying to communicate her fear, her yearning for human connection, her desire to create, but there is no safe space within which to do so for long. She always has to move on, be on guard, watch what she says, even to the reader. It is brilliantly done. There are moments of real horror in between this contemplation, specifically in a later chapter when the protagonist is in search of a safe haven. The way in which the tension builds up, in which every tree and person becomes intimidating, it is quite something!

I considered to what extend I wanted to go into the mystery of them. They are a faceless group, a set of people who suddenly appear and suddenly disappear, leaving havoc and mystery in their wake. They're looking for the artists, those who create "beyond what is reasonable". Initially I wondered at their goal, which is never entirely explained, but then I hit on the consistent thread of communication and community. We are more easily controlled if we are alone, if we have no one to reflect with, if we have no art which lets us express our deepest feelings. So that is why they hunt artists, why they side-eye everyone who lives on their own, why the deafening sound of TVs permeates every home. In that sense it shares a similarity with Orwell's 1984 but Dick maintains a certain kind of hope in the beauty of human connection which is remarkable considering her own life. As a bisexual woman, Dick must have faced a certain distance from the people outside her artsy friendship group. She must have dealt with efforts to scrutinize her work, her living arrangement, etc. While biography doesn't always inform literature, I think it is fair to say that here, some of the mystery of They can be elucidated by this knowledge. This is a novel about searching for connection, beauty, emotion, in the face of a society that just wants you to conform.

I had not read anything by Kay Dick before They and am very grateful that as part of their mission to re-issue classics Faber opted for They. (The previously published Mrs. Caliban was the first in this series.) Dick achieves a beautiful balance in They between horror and beauty. There are stunning sequences full of nature and beauty and companionship, scenes that almost reminded me of Studio Ghibli films in their simple calm. Yet over these hangs a shadow which frequently comes to blot out the sun. An idyllic stroll through the countryside followed by a splash in the sea is only the preamble for a dash through the countryside looking for a safe haven. A beautiful afternoon in a sunny meadow is threatened by ever tightening legal restrictions. The physical punishment of the artists is described in such a blunt way that is never doesn't shock, yet also freezes you in place. Like Dick's narrator, you find yourself frozen in place, unable to decide whether to move forward or run away, knowing that a choice does have to be made. I can't wait to reread They at different stages in my life to see the new lessons I can draw from it, the new inspiration it will provide.

They might not be for everyone due to its fractured nature, but there is a lot of beauty to be found in this quiet yet ferocious tale of resistance.

2/17 - updated with link

Thank you to Netgalley and Faber & Faber for this advanced readers copy.
'They' wasn’t badly written in any way, it was lyrical and enchanting, however, I still don't understand what was going on. It’s set in a sort of dystopian future the author imagined in the 1990s, on the coast of England. The book follows what I assume is a few different unnamed narrators, but it could’ve also been one person (I have no idea), And a group of people, ‘they’, that are hunting creative people. Kidnapping, torturing and even murdering people if they refuse to comply with the erasure of all sorts of art. I believe the intention of this novel was to discuss the importance of creativity and art in every day life, but it just didn’t work. At first it’s a group of animalstic people, ‘they’, who are the ones hunting creative people, but then it went into the government(?), also banning creativity(?), I’m not sure at all. I think if it had been written as one full length novel instead of nine short stories it would’ve worked really well, but it was difficult to follow and it made me feel as if I wasn’t smart enough to understand the plot overall, if there was one. I definitely wanted a lot more from this book and sadly am disapointed.

I went into this with high hopes as I love a dystopian story as much as the next person. However, it just didn’t work for me. I understood that THEY were destroying books and art and people were trying to avoid them doing so but the story just didn’t go anywhere for me and I found it all too confusing.

I started this but couldn't get into it. For me it was the voice rather than the subject matter, it felt cold and didn't draw me in. DNF

Just finished #THEY by Kay Dick. 40 years lost, this dystopian gem is a eerie story that you would enjoy if you liked The Memory Police by Yōko Ogawa. Thanks .
@FaberBooks
and Lucy for the proof copy BooksRed heart. Also, always a plus reading a foreword by Carmen María Machado Exploding head.

They, an Orwellian nightmare dreamt up by Dick, is a short, sharp novel detailing a life in which They are coming after you. They go after those involved in artistic endeavours and especially those alone.

A highlight of this novel is it's brevity. It's lack of detail leaves the reader feeling as if they are in the midst of a dream-like sequence that gets incrementally darker. Each chapter is a vignette on the same theme, not always directly connecting with another, carrying the essence of the reverie through the prose. This might be something that is difficult to read for a full length novel, but Dick pulls it off, leaving the reader feeling very unsettled as the dream turns to nightmare.

I was so grateful for the introduction to this book describing Dick's initial publication of They, the way in which it was first received, how it went on to influence and her writing. I didn't realise that it was republished after her death and celebrated in the way it always should have been. As I read the brilliance of They, this thought stayed with me, the idea of a woman who wrote about something so insidious in such a clever and unambiguous way, being ignored then when all you can do is listen to her words now.

'They' jumps between time and between characters. It keeps a thread running through that you occasionally drop and pick back up again in another chapter, but it is no matter. Perhaps it is the times we live in now, the threat of division, of not always being able to be yourself openly, that meant this book really stayed with me. It's subtle but haunting, deeply haunting. It starts small, with books going missing (They hate books), a refusal for people to live alone (They see this as a affront and punish for it) until it escalates to hiding oneself, belongings, the very nature of who you are.

It's short but it packs a punch and it is one I will endeavour to return to now I have found it.

I... did not enjoy this book. I guess with a subtitle "A sequence of unease" it's very much a case of Reader Beware.

I requested to read this as I love a good dystopia and THEY sounded so strong and downright creepy with recommendations from authors I respect such as Margaret Atwood and Emily St John Mandel.

"I'm glad country walks are still possible" .... in many ways THEY took me back to life in Lockdown no.1, when all we had were walks outside, but subject to surveillance to make sure that Covid-rules were not being breached (eg. the two women fined for having Sbx drinks with them on a walk which turned it into a "picnic")

We are not sure when the story is set, however it was first published in 1977. We follow an unnamed, ungendered protagonist who moves around the English countryside linking up with fellow artists and intellectuals who are haunted by 'THEY- a mysterious group who only seem intent on destroying any type of artistic expression.

Initially our narrator seems 'safe', and THEY are content to merely to remove books from the narrator's collection, But other artists suffer far worse punishments; painters blinded, musicians deafened - they seem to be aware of the consequences of their endeavours and yet unable to quench that spark of whatever it is that inspires them to create.

There are a few sections that are genuinely unnerving, 'Pebble of Unease' has THEY, an undisclosed number of who are practicing some kind of weird manoeuvre, zigzagging downhill information with poles, 'The Fairing' sees our narrator making a rendezvous but their journey there becomes increasingly tense and claustrophobic .

But apart from these scenes, which are truly memorable, overall the work does not hang together for me. It's all just a bit too vague. I think for a dystopia to work you need to root for someone to overcome, yet we know very little about our narrator and that makes it hard for me to say that I would recommend this book.

I was interested to read this 'rediscovered' dystopian novel given a new edition by Faber. I had seen plenty of quotes from the novel, mainly from the most violent scenes, but actually what struck me most about the novel was its sense of loneliness and the undercurrent of anxiety. Wherever the narrator is, she is never safe. The mysterious They are always nearby. You cannot hide from them, or outrun them.

They is similar to other dreamlike dystopian novels, including Ice by Anna Kavan and The Memory Police by Yōko Ogawa, depicting a population ruled over by shadowy force with possibly supernatural powers. It was also reminiscent of I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Halpern, and The Unit by Ninni Holmqvist.

The re-issue of Kay Dick's They provides a unique reading experience. I felt it was written in a dream-like state whereby you could never pin down when each passage was taking place or as one reviewer wrote if you are even dealing with the same central character.
The 'They' of the book are gangs who roam the countryside and even cruel children who take pleasure torturing animals. Amongst this are the artists brutalised without much fight, to a point of resolution of this is how life is.
This is a book that will stay with the reader for a week or two and will want you to read again over the next few months just to find a hint of what has happened to get to this state and why..