Alice is a new mother, and she's doing her best. Only, she feels that her best is nowhere near good enough, and that her baby girl and husband both resent her presence in their lives. She's still trying to cope with the grief of losing her mother, and she hasn't been able to write anything to further her passion project, a new retelling of the Haudenosaunee creation myth. Alice, despairing, starts to hear voices she hasn't heard since she was a girl, and they're warning her to get out. Take Dawn and get out, before it's too late. But what can she do? Who is she without this life she's worked so hard to secure?

Read this if you:
🐢 have any interest in Indigenous communities and their stories
🪳 love psychological horror with a spark of cheekiness
🌈 desperately want to understand and combat systemic prejudice

Oh, this book. It's perfect. With tears streaming down my face, I flipped the last page of this story and turned to my bewildered husband to accusatorially ask him what it's like to be a straight white man with no mental health issues. Poor guy. Don't worry, he took it well, he's used to me. Alice is a character I won't soon forget, and her story is impactful on multiple levels. She's a Mohawk woman living in a white community, AND she's struggling with her mental health, so the hits just keep on coming for our girl.

I always stumble when reviewing books I love the most, because it's so difficult to put into words the myriad of emotions I felt while reading. And Then She Fell is, according to its genre classification, a horror novel — and it is, in the classical sense, but it's horrific in other ways too. There is a ton of rage in here about being a woman, being Indigenous, and being oppressed in one way or another. It is an absolutely perfect combination, and I loved it more than I can express.

The last few lines of this book absolutely broke me. I hope you will give this story a read, and I hope that you love it as much as I do. Thank you to Alicia Elliott, Dutton Books, and NetGalley for my advance digital copy.

Is there anything so delicious and satisfying as when a book that you like turns into a book that you absolutely love?! The last 15% of this novel blew me away, so much so that I'm now feverishly recommending it.

AND THEN SHE FELL focuses on Alice, a young Mohawk mother grieving the loss of her own mom, trying to connect with and care for her newborn, attempting to navigate her new life as the wife of a white academic, fighting to write the novel she's certain needs to be told, and struggling to make sense of the increasingly dark voices in her head that tell her she's incapable of achieving any of those goals. It's impossible not to sympathize with Alice, who feels completely torn by her decision to move to Toronto with her new husband (and abandon her friends and family on the rez) (but provide a more secure life for her daughter). Her identity as a Native woman is a deep source of pride but also a liability--as her husband's colleagues ask her to pontificate on the status of MMIW, strangers question whether or not she really lives in such a nice neighborhood, and a 'well-meaning' neighbor drops off a DVD of Pocahontas as a 'treat' for her daughter. Her husband's proximity to her indigeneity, however, is a huge asset--he proudly shows her off at department dinners, mines her family for fodder for his academic articles (with attribution and compensation, of course!!!), and gains access to Mohawk language classes that will boost his chances for tenure. He does all this with a nice, votes-liberal smile, while Alice feels acutely aware of the degree to which she is not fluent in Ohswé:ken (a direct result of colonial interference) and how tenuous her ability to retain and pass on her people's stories and traditions is. Elliott does a remarkable job of toeing the line, leaving the reader uncertain if Alice's postpartum depression / psychosis is completely to blame for her increasing paranoia, or if her husband and white neighbors are surveilling and gaslighting her as much as she thinks they are.

And then -- and THEN! Just as Alice's distress comes to a fever pitch, the novel makes a sharp left turn and unspools into a beautiful, imaginative, breathtakingly surreal dreamscape that left me reading through tears. Elliott knits together a thousand threads in just a few pages, and I felt the strong need to start from the beginning again and again and again. An incredible debut!

And Then She Fell is an amazing book that defies description. It tells the story of Alice, a young Indingenous woman whose life is just as she imagined. She's married to a man who loves her, a white professor named Steve who is studying her own Mohawk culture. Alice just gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl, she lives in a beautiful home in a new neighborhood and she feels like a fake. Her mother just died, she can't connect with baby Dawn and she's starting to see strange things and lose bits of time. Alice tries desperately to hide her despair from Steve and her other relatives. Her new neighbors behavior seems increasingly threatening, but Alice can't tell if it is real or something imagined, like the voices that speak to her. She must rely on her wits, or what is left of them, and her heritage to find her way back and keep Dawn safe. The story is told from Alice's point of view, dark but not without humor. It is something all women should read as should anyone who is interested in a raw look at womanhood and the difficulties of trying to fit in to a world that is not always welcoming. Many possibilities for discussion for book groups of all kinds and interests. Thanks to NetGalley for the chance to read an ARC.

This is absolutely one of my favorite books of 2023! This thrilling novel follows Alice as she navigates post partum life and mental health issues as an Indigenous woman married to a white man. The razor sharp critique of Alice's husband as he reaps the benefits in his academic circles of having a Mohawk wife and child slices through all pretenses of white alliance in a world that constantly rewards the slightest effort of cultural understanding by white people and punishes people of color for the exact same things. In this case, Alice is far from fluent in Mohawk and she certainly does not have the privilege of taking classes in it at the university like her husband does. Instead, Alice spends her time trying to care for her infant daughter Dawn as ill-meaning neighbors attempt to "help" her by giving her Pocahontas videotapes and offering to babysit/surveil her. Alice's status as an Indigenous woman in a white neighborhood is constantly under question, while her husband's forays into Mohawk culture are lauded and help him on the path to tenure.

This discrepancy is enough to drive anyone mad, and Alice is constantly questioning her own sanity, particularly when cartoons start speaking to her through the television. She hears voices in her head and sees increasingly disturbing images that can't possibly be real...but her intuition that something is very wrong and that she must fight for her and Dawn's survival is clear to her no matter how much gaslighting or hallucinating she experiences.

GET OUT meets TULLY in this harrowing novel of racism, motherhood, and psychosis. The novel asks: how does one access mental health care in a violently white supremacist society? How can Alice reach out for help in a system eager to take children from Native women? What can she believe, when everything she knows to be true is questioned by her partner? These questions present different paths that Alice's life can take, and each option is considered by the author with tenderness and a sharp attention. This book is unforgettable.

Thanks for the opportunity to read and review this book. Below is my review. It will appear on episode 25 of the podcast which will drop on Monday, September 11. I'll also cross-promote on Instagram and post my review on Goodreads.

Review:
This book was so wild and complex! It's a captivating journey through the complexities of mental health and the struggles faced by First Nation tribes in Canada.

The story revolves around Alice, a Mohawk woman who has just given birth to her daughter, Dawn. On the outside, Alice's life seems perfect. She lives in an upscale Toronto neighborhood with her husband, Steve, an academic specializing in Mohawk culture. They have a lovely house in a peaceful (and very white) Toronto neighborhood. This life is much different than what Alice is used to. She grew up on a reservation without many of the niceties she now has at her fingertips. One would think Alice would be happy with her new life, but honestly, she feels like an impostor, and no matter where she goes, she feels as though everyone is staring at her and out to get her. Is it her imagination, or is everyone really out to get her? Not only does she struggle with feeling like an outsider, but she also struggles to connect with her newborn daughter and still battles with guilt over the recent loss of her mother.

Elliott's vivid descriptions allow readers to delve deep into Alice's emotions and fractured psyche, feeling the weight of her despair and self-doubt. As Alice tries to reclaim her old identity by writing a modern adaptation of the Haudenosaunee creation story, strange things begin to happen. She experiences gaps in her memory and hears unexplained voices. Simultaneously, her neighbors' hostile behavior becomes increasingly menacing. Trees start to whisper, the neighborhood houses all seem to be stalking her, and why does Disney's Pocahontas keep popping up? Is she being stalked by something paranormal, or is it all in her head?

The author skillfully weaves together Alice's personal journey with the larger context of mental health issues. With profound insight, Elliott sheds light on the struggles and stigma associated with mental health within Indigenous communities. The book's descriptive style fully immerses readers in the story. Elliott's writing captures your attention from the very first page and does not let go until the final words, and if you're like me, they'll leave a lasting impact.

The plot is intricately woven, and the author seamlessly blends themes of mental health, identity, and cultural preservation into a single narrative. The pacing is just right, allowing for moments of reflection and introspection while maintaining a gripping momentum.

One of the book's greatest strengths is its ability to tackle serious issues sensitively and respectfully. Elliott treats her characters with care, ensuring they are multidimensional and believable. Readers will root for Alice as she struggles to find her voice and confront the demons within her mind and her community. I was so caught up in her story that I began to question my own sanity.

And Then She Fell is an important and timely addition to contemporary literature. Through Alice's story, Alicia Elliott shines a light on the often overlooked experiences of Indigenous people and all they've endured since white settlers swept in, stole their land, and killed off many of their family members. This is an important piece of work that will garner plenty of discussion.

An indigenous woman trying to fit into white suburbia is a horror unto itself. But post-partum psychosis takes hold, turning her life into a truly horrifying nightmare. An interesting mix of origin story, racism, and mental illness.

A most enthusiastic 5 stars and so much praise to this wonderful book. Theres all the obvious keywords: indigenous peoples and their culture, community, racism, post-partum depression and mental illness, drug use, mothers & daughters, etc, and these are each big and so important to the story, but it is the story itself that I fell into. It is quick and engaging and painful and meaningful and beautiful. And I have no obvious similarities to Alice but her story still spoke to me and I just finished it and want to reread it, and cannot recommend it enough. Thank you for writing this, Alicia Elliott

This is a book that is going to stay with me for a long time. Elliott expertly blends genres to tell a disturbing and beautiful tale about grief, intergenerational trauma, and the repercussions of colonialism. Alice is a small miracle of a protagonist: her voice is so clear even as reality becomes complicated and terrifying for her. Her emotional journey resonates and points to big, urgent ideas about how colonialism pathologizes those it oppresses, and how all of society's institutions participate in the process, with emphasis placed on medicine and academia.

I felt like this book had so many important things to say about indigenous people, language and genocide it almost got jumbled and confusing. The book took a while to get going, the middle was solid and then it kind of devolved a little at the end. I don't mind a book that doesn't wrap things up in a bow but it was so all over the place I had a hard to time focusing. Just a little fleshing out of the end would have helped.

What an intriguing and unique story! I love me a good mystery novel, but 'And Then She Fell' transcended the genre and created a world I wasn't sure I wanted to leave! I'm normally pretty hesitant to pick up books where the female main character's arc begins with her "descent into madness', but Elliott handled Alice's mental stability in a refreshing way that had me rooting for her until the very end. I cannot express my admiration for this genre-bending book enough! If you love twists, turns, and creativity in a story, "And Then She Fell' is the novel for you.

Alice is grieving woman. But she's also a new mom, Native, attempting to live a new life with her white husband outside of her reservation for the first time. Riddled with guilt about the loss of her mother and the loss of her culture, Alice isn't sure if she's dipping into madness like her grandmother long before her, or if her ancestors are trying to warn her of something important.

There were a lot of things that I really loved about this novel. I love any book that is a slow descent into madness, and I think that Alicia Ellicott did a wonderful job of creating a landscape for that to happen: she gives you enough reality mixed in with the paranoia to leave you questioning without being entirely lost. I thought that the Native culture references were, though at times a little bit confusing, incredibly interesting as someone who isn't super familiar. Alicia Ellicott also gave her character's great, distinct personalities that kept you drawn to them.
I will say, the tone of the book from beginning to end changed a few times. There were parts I really loved, and then parts where it kind of lost me. There are intermittent chapters that include Alice's writing-- somewhat modern retelling of the Native Creation story-- which I didn''t personally like. They felt corny and performative in my opinion.
I really loved that the ending was left somewhat ambigious. Not in a way that left me confused or unsatisfied, but more in a 'choose-your-own-adventure' sense. The tie in with her granddaughter was moving and emotional.
All in all, enjoyed!

And Then She Fell by Alicia Elliott is a breathtaking novel that deserves every single one of its five stars. Elliott's compelling storytelling takes readers on an emotional rollercoaster, weaving together themes of resilience, redemption, and the power of self-discovery in a truly unforgettable way.

From the very first page, I was captivated by the depth and complexity of the characters. Elliott masterfully brings them to life, making their struggles and triumphs feel raw and authentic.

Elliott's prose is nothing short of remarkable. Her vivid descriptions effortlessly transport readers to various settings, whether it's Alice's home on the rez or the white suburbia of Toronto. The author's ability to evoke emotions through her words is truly remarkable; I found myself angry and sad at the treatment of the MC, Alice. There's no doubt that Elliot's words also mark a call to action, for all of us to do better.

One of the novel's greatest strengths lies in its exploration of important social issues. Elliott fearlessly tackles topics such as intergenerational trauma, poverty, racism, and the lasting impact of colonialism. Through her nuanced storytelling, she invites readers to examine their own biases and preconceptions, urging us to challenge the status quo and strive for a more compassionate and equitable society.

Alicia Elliott's And Then She Fell is stunning. Its powerful storytelling, complex characters, and thought-provoking themes make it a must-read for anyone seeking something new and unique. I wholeheartedly recommend picking up this novel when it is published this fall.

Alice is an extremely likeable narrator—she’s smart, funny, sometimes caustic, always questioning and always self-aware, even when she’s not quite sure where reality and time begin and end.

And Then She Fell complicates overly simplistic narratives of mental health by taking Alice’s experiences with hallucinations and postpartum psychosis and looking at them from a non-Western perspective, considering the possibility that there is more than one valid way of being in the world.

Although I am not, in general, a reader of horror books, the genre choice is perfect here. The tropes of horror and terror— menacing atmospheres and rich, sometimes graphic descriptions; supernatural elements and monsters; the Stepford-esque neighbours; and the confusion between what is real and what is imagined—are used to fantastic effect. Alice’s story grips you; turning the pages becomes imperative.

Overall, I loved this book's blend of horror and humour and pathos.

Alicia Elliott wrote a spectacular memoir called A Mind Spread Out On the Ground, which put her on my radar for Native women writers. I jumped at the chance to read a digital ARC of this new novel.

Alice is a new mom living in suburban Toronto. She is a citizen of Haudenosaunee confederacy, but she is married to a white man who she met while he was asking her mother about creation stories. Alice has always been aware of the voices that she's heard throughout her life, of the creation that talks to her even when no one else can hear it. She's even been guided in some very important life decisions by Walt Disney's Pocahontes, who uses her real name, Matoaka. These voices start to chatter in earnest as she deals with her newly born daughter, and the pressures of being the wife of a white academic.

The running theme of this book is the horror of new parenthood when your partner does not understand who you are and what matters to you. I think Alicia Elliott writes Steve, Alice's husband very well. He thinks he's well meaning, he thinks he's supportive, yet everything he is doing is destroying Alice's right to exist, and is therefore denying his own daughter's right to exist. Alice feels a great deal of pressure to be fine for him because of course, Native women are never allowed to fall apart. And Steve thinks he is amazing because he can say he saved his wife and daughter from the horrors of living on the reserve, even though most of their support system still lives there. The thought of one of my cousin's white partner's sending me away from her house when she has a brand new baby to take care made me feel sick. The thought of my non-native partner correcting my attempts to speak my own native language made me feel sick. The thought of white neighbors questioning my right to live in my home doesn't have to make me feel sick because it is something I deal with more than I should. All of these terrible things, and a new baby, in a new house, with a husband trying to get tenure? Anyone would have trouble dealing, and Alice is also becoming more afraid of new voices, including one she calls The Shape, who is encouraging her finish her retelling of her tribe's creation story.

Alice's version of the creation story is interspersed between chapters, and it's told in the snarky, sarcastic Native voice I know well. Sky Woman's troubles run parallel to Alice's, and it's her ability to save herself by falling that keeps Alice upright. Toward the end of the book, the story shifts a bit, which was ok, but honestly I enjoyed the journey so much more than the destination, which was a little confusing, and slapped together. (Although the scenes between Edie and Pete the cockroach were hilarious.) As a Native woman who has watched many of her Native friends and relatives get into relationships with white people, only for them to realize these white people didn't have an understanding of what was best for them, I really identified with this book.

This is an exceptional, genre-blending book with a hell of an ending. It's very intense, so do take care with content warnings, but it's very much worth it if you're able to deal with all of the potential triggers.

And Then She Fell touched on and went deep into hard topics surrounding PPD, being the birthing parent, mental illness and racism against Native persons. There are words in the Mohawk language which I didn’t know them and had to look up, which resulted in either finding the meaning or not finding anything...there's no guide in the book on what most of them mean or proper pronunciation.
Anyways, this was a good book, I personally don't class this as Horror, but I recommend it if you want to read a psychological thriller.

Also, please make sure you read all TW/CW.

And Then She Fell is a beautiful and difficult story. I related to many parts as a mom and someone who struggles emotionally and I also learned a lot about Indigenous beliefs, traditions and a snippet of the some of the current experiences. Alicia Elliott writes Alice so well. I often found myself switching back and forth between wondering if she is a reliable narrator or not which kept me on my toes and provided me with the opportunity to challenge my views on reality and spirituality. The last few chapters are really special and made me cry (something that only one other book has made me do). I highly recommend And Then She Fell by Alicia Elliot.

This is a stunning fiction debut by Alicia Elliott. Her protagonist has such a unique voice and she flawlessly balances Indigenous teachings, discussions of colonial violence, and postpartum mental health with the narrative. I loved this book.

At first glance, Alice looks like she has the ideal life; as a Mohawk woman married to a white man name Steve (who is coincidentally studying her culture and language), she's just given birth to her daughter Dawn and moved into a wealthy Toronto suburb to raise her family. But Alice's struggles are numerous: she's having trouble juggling the newfound responsibilities of motherhood on her own (mostly due to her husband's insistence); she harbors an inexplicable resentment against her husband for how seamlessly and effortlessly he seems to take on aspects of her culture; and she struggles to write her take on the Haudenosaunee creation story that her late father recounted to her.

The first half of this novel was the most engrossing for me as we really get to understand Alice's character and situation, including a number of flashbacks to her childhood that cover her encounters with her peers on the "Rez" and what happened to Alice's mother and father -events that shape who she is in the present. Her situation as a female minority was one I connected to as well, despite not being Native American, and I shared in her frustrations with feeling unheard and frequently talked over. I struggled with the second half of the novel however, which read like a fever dream in many instances. I'm sure there's a lot of complex symbolism and interpretations that I was unable to comprehend, but I struggled with separating what was real with what was... not.

There's a lot of heavy subject matter packed into this novel including substance abuse, mental illness, sexism, racism, and the thin border between cultural appreciation and appropriation. Worth a read for those who are curious, but be prepared for a wild ride!

This is the weirdest review I've ever written I think. I hated this book. And yet - I recommend it. What?! Lol.

This book was dark and everything is depressing - but that's kind of the point. It's dealing with hard subjects. That is a kind of thing I personally do not enjoy in the fiction I read. Every time I picked this up I felt more depressed after.

HOWEVER - it is very well written, draws you in right away, and deals with the important subjects of post partum depression, racisom, and others, as well as highlighted a native American woman as the main character, so I think it is a good book with a lot of value. Just wasn't right for me personally.