I found this quite a curious, gloomy read but not in a bad way! The narrator, stuck alone during lockdown, looks back at the disconnected memories of her childhood living in the countryside.
There are beautiful, poetic descriptions of nature and she looks at how all life, big and small, near and far, is interconnected.
It’s well-written, lyrical and I enjoyed the brutal snippets of life growing up in a rural community and then in lockdown as an adult. It filled me with a sense of unease throughout, but was an interesting, thought-provoking read.
Many thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for the ARC. All views are my own.

I had this book noted down as one to look out for. The main attraction for me was the setting – rural Yorkshire in the nineties. Hello! I was there!

Emergency is described as a pastoral novel, and yes, if I have to say what it’s about then it’s about the relationship between humans and nature. But that’s it. There’s really no through story here. A woman looks back on her childhood from lockdown. It’s told in scenes that are not always linear and that blend together – we move from past to present in just a sentence and it’s a little disorienting. There were parts I was really interested in and others that really added nothing for me.

The setting is well-created here, the descriptions of the natural world are very evocative and the obviously based on experience anecdotes had me nodding me head – they were so right! Getting the first computer in the classroom, wooden desks with lids, being rewarded with a pen for good handwriting, Segas and Gameboys and ‘Is Adam playing?’

However, as right as all that was, something really rubbed me the wrong way. In nineties Yorkshire we did not say ‘mom’ or ‘principal’; we did not use ‘Saran wrap’, nor drive on ‘freeways’, nor drink ‘Gatorade’ (it wasn’t essential to the story, so why not Lucozade?). Was this adapted for American readers? Why? For a setting that felt so authentic, these details (minor though they might seem) really took me out of it.

I think there are scenes I’ll remember – maybe because they felt like my memories – but this is not a book I’ll revisit, and I don’t know who I would recommend it to.

Thank you, NetGalley and Astra for this ARC.

while I can say that this is lyrical, beautiful prose in the end this book didn't work for me. I felt I had nothing to connect to, especially the very light lockdown framing used. This is partially my fault, I saw "a woman recounts her 1990s childhood" and I thought I was going to be filled with nostalgia. Instead I got endless stories about animals (and sometimes neighbors) in a not quite rural, not quite suburbs town. There were some interesting through lines about the world supply chain and sometimes it seemed like it wanted to say something about animal farming but it never quite got there. It felt longwinded which made me constantly ask why I was being told all of this! I never felt the "evocative and unsettling" points from the blurb.

The writing at a technical level was great, I just couldn't find anything to care about at all at a quarter of the way into it. I am typically fine with no, or little to no, plot novels and generally love interiority being predominate in my fiction. This, though, with the interconnectivity between our child narrator from a future self, just really didn't do anything for me. The odd moments weren't enough to have me wonder what would happen next. There are no stakes and the life of a child encountering animals is apparently not compelling to me, personally.

Emergency is a complex novel, not merely in its subject matter, but in its structure (or lack thereof) and atmospheric effect. For me, the novel has its merits and its detractions; however, its detractions often overwhelm its merits. But let's praise it first for what it does accomplish.

The good: Emergency delivers on its promise of conveying a sense of interconnectivity between what are typically viewed as a discrete domains: nature and human behavior. Through a stream-of-consciousness deluge of the young unnamed narrator's observations, the reader is treated to a fast-paced snapshot of what the world looks like from a youthful, innocent perspective. That is, the tragedy of our climate change and its impact on our world is accepted as natural, normal. The implication is that the tragedy of climate change is now somewhat unavoidable. There is a fatalistic quality to Emergency that is equal parts sad, calm, exciting, and banal. It is like feeling elation at the presence of anxiety, if only because it is a feeling that reminds us of our humanity. Don't blame me, the novel is the barer of this bad news. Ha. I did mean "barer" and not "bearer." A pun if I ever wrote one.

Now, the not so good: It is clear Emergency is written for a mature literary reader. Its plotless structure and its subtle connection between environment and human behavior demands a lot of work from its reader. These two criticisms are related; the novel has no discernible plot. Nothing happens. Except, that is, a lot of thinking. There is very minimal exterior eventfulness in the novel; it takes place almost wholly in the narrator's interior. For readers of literary fiction this is a familiar characteristic; however, the narrator remains an elusive character. I had significant difficulty imagining the narrator from Hildyard's description (which is sparse), though the unfolding of their mind was delivered in abundance.

What is problematic about the absent narrator is how this alienates the reader. This may be purposeful on Hildyard's part, a performative palpability intended to convey the awful insularity in our future. Dwindling resources and a ruthless competition to survive have historically had the effect of solidifying boundaries, separating and causing the demise of many millions.

Perhaps this is Hildyard's method of conveying a sense of our collective mortality. If so, bravo. But nonetheless, as a literary work, this gloomy sense of quarantine and the inability to connect with the narrator causes the novel to drag a little. It is hard to maintain interest in a narrator we do fully feel in our presence.

Perhaps, on another level, the absent narrator is an unconscious authorial decision. Emergency, in its chilly narration, reminds me of the terrible isolation and reflectivity the Covid-19 pandemic forced on the world. Hildyard wrote this in lockdown and so we must assume that some element of their experience has seeped into the novel; but, simply put, I have had enough of feeling this way. At a future point in our history, Hildyard's novel may brilliantly (whether it is its author's intention or not) convey the mood of our moment; but, it is too soon, too soon for me to appreciate this.

In sum, Emergency is a novel to be undertaken with seriousness. If you have the mental energy to meet Hildyard -- and the narrator -- more than halfway, I think you will be rewarded well.

"Emergency" will please people who are nostalgic and readers who want to decide to live in the countryside. Never boring, full of precious details, it is different from a biography but with all the charms of a true story.
As a witness of a bygone era, the author brushes a depiction of everyday life at the countryside iwith many relevant details. A book no reader will forget !
Thanks to the author and the publisher for an advanced copy all opinions are mine.

I really enjoyed 'Emergency' by Daisy Hildyard.

It is redolent of 'To Kill a Mockingbird' and 'The Secret Garden', stories seen through the eyes of a child - a magical childhood, but one with an edge.

Exploring the interconnectedness of everything and the fragility and vitality of nature, it is a hymn to the earth. There are so many memorable passages that make you feel you're there too, and want to tell someone about it.

Some of the writing is so poetic that it deserves to be read aloud.