I loved Our Wives Under The Sea. I’ve listened to the audiobook multiple times. It was easy to follow with the story switching only between the two wives. The chaotic nature of Private Rites was a very different reading experience.

I understood the gist of this story, finding it somewhat difficult to follow, but then again, that could have been intentional and necessary so as to convey the accurate chaos of the world and the emotions of the main characters. This realization helped me to appreciate the skill of this author in communicating the seriousness of what was going on and how the characters were dealing with it.

The main characters were all lesbian sisters, Isla and Irene and their half-sister, Agnes. After being estranged for some time, they were reunited when their father died. He was a very famous architect. His own home was the grand glass house. The sisters didn’t really care much for each other, but were summoned by the father’s lawyer.

Their disfunction was affected by their father, the way he left them alone in the house for long periods, the way he spoke to his daughters, the way he pitted one against the other—leaving each to struggle for a love they should have known they couldn’t earn.

People seemed to be nonchalant about the state of chaos, as if saying they just go with the flow. Houses slipped off foundations, people wondered when their building will be next and where they’ll go, but they went on about their business.

A typical favorite line from the book that gives a sample of the situation: “There is a horror movie adage that people are always running up stairs when they should be jumping out of windows, but what is a person supposed to do when all obvious exits are underwater?”

The times w strange and strange things happened everywhere. Agnes worked in a coffee shop. Her coworker asked her to follow him into the storeroom and showed her a line of what appeared to be sea anemones growing rough along the grouting of a wall.
So it goes, a man holds a candle to a window; a woman picks seaweed from the corners of her kitchen tiles. A shoal of eels knotted hopelessly in a storm drain, a sea slug, a shiver of crabs on a wall.

I appreciated the writing but didn’t really enjoy the book. I found it stressful to follow. However, I’m glad that I read it and thank NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity .

3.5 stars

This is the story of three sisters, Isla, Irene and Agnes. All three are gay and the narrative explores each of their lives and relationships on a backdrop of impending apocalypse. As with the author's former work, "Our Wives Under the Sea", water plays a huge role, in this case in the form of constant rain drowning the planet due to climate change.

The author's writing style is distinct and I enjoyed it. Unfortunately, the story itself didn't quite work for me. None of the characters seemed much concerned with ending of the world happening around them. While I understood that life continued, people kept working, travel moved from cars and roads to boats and water, and the rich just moved to higher ground, the way this was treated as so ho-hum left me with no feeling of peril or dread. The sisters' relationships to each other was most times confusing and I honestly didn't find any of the three likeable. The way they behaved in their respective romantic relationships did not help that feeling at all.

The totality of the book was pretty bleak, which fit with the rain apocalypse, but made for a rather somber read. As for the ending, that just came out of nowhere for me. I believe there were some mild foreshadowing events but they were so mild as to be completely forgettable and lacked the impact that would have made me look back and say "ah ha!, that's what that meant".

While I may not have enjoyed this book as much as I'd hoped, I would still recommend it to readers who loved the author's last book and who like dark stories that explore sisterhood and female relationships.

Thank you to NetGalley and Flatiron Books for the eArc of this book in exchange for an honest review.

I knew this was a King Lear retelling going into it, which is one of my least favorite of Shakespeare's tragedies, but considering what a wild ride Our Wives Under The Sea was I decided that I had to read it anyway!

Private Rights follows three sisters - Isla, Irene, and Agnes - living in an early Waterworld kind of post apocalyptic version of earth. The rain in this world never stops pouring so people have had to adapt to the new normal of moving to higher ground, getting floating houses, and knowing that you will rarely of ever feel dry.

When the three estranged sister's father, a renowned architect of self-raising homes, passes away the three women are thrown back into each other's lives and are forced to confront a past they have long chosen to forget.

This book was sloooow and atmospheric which is why it took me ages to read even though it's a fairly short novel. Things took the slow and steady pace until the last handful of pages were things went significantly crazy in a very signature Julia Armfield way. I saw a Goodreads review that stated it was "all vibes and no plot" and honestly I feel like that just describes all of Armfield's work in the best way.

Did I love at much as I wanted to? No. Was the vibes immaculate? Yes.

There's a particular style of writing that Julia Armfield absolutely nails, with so much attention paid to both the quality of her prose and the topics she chooses to cover. From the very first line of this gorgeous novel, she creates such a brilliant sense of atmosphere and intrigue. The perspectives and voices of the three radically different sisters, the drowning world, the allusions to King Lear, the [SPOILER] weird cultiness coming in at the end?? Incredible.

I have read and loved both salt slow and Our Wives Under the Sea but this one might be my favorite yet. I think this would be a perfect fit for readers of Yoko Ogawa, Kazuo Ishiguro, or Mona Awad.

Thank you SO MUCH to Flatiron Books for hearing my pleas and giving me an opportunity to read and review!

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

W o w. This is my second book by @juliakarmfield and it will not be my last!

A queer Lear retelling, the novel follows the three estranged Carmichael sisters in the aftermath of their father's death. With the world heading toward ruin and their feelings about their father complicated, Isla, Irene, and Agnes navigate their complex feelings about sisterhood, queer love, and finding faith as the world crumbles.

As is the case with her books, the prose is beautiful, the relationships deep, and the ending unsettling. I'm increasingly convinced I could read Armfield's grocery list and be captivated. Part lit fic, part dystopia, all-encompassing, Private Rites is a can't-miss read!

Preorder now!

As soon as I saw that Armfield had another book coming out, I knew I couldn’t wait to read it. I wasn’t at all disappointed - while I was a little nervous going in (I’ve never read or seen King Lear and was worried I might miss important aspects of the book because of that), I absolutely loved this book. It’s possible there are some intricacies that may pop out to people who know King Lear better than I do from a quick read of the Wikipedia summary. That said, I had no trouble understanding or keeping up with the book without that background knowledge.

As with Our Wives Under the Sea, Private Rites was gorgeously written. I thought Armfield handled the intricacies and silences between the three main characters as well as in each of their relationship with their father so beautifully and accurately, and I loved how their individual childhoods so clearly shaped their personalities, romantic partnerships, and relationships with one another.

I also loved how seamlessly Armfield wrote a society on the brink of (or, arguably in the midst of) absolute disaster. You’d expect a book with this premise - a world literally drowning from endless rain resulting from climate change - to lean into post-apocalyptic scenarios. Instead though, Armfield wrote a world that just kept going anyway, that rebuilt cities and transportation systems and homes to cope with the ever-rising water levels and went about life with a constant anxiety and fear that everyone just sort of pretended wasn’t happening because what else can you do really? It both leant an eerie backstory and setting to every character’s story and had nothing to do with the story simultaneously. (And for what it’s worth, given how the last several years have gone, I think it’s likely that Armfield’s writing of Private Rites is exactly how we’d handle this situation if it actually happened.)

I knew going in, of course, that the book wouldn’t end happily - while I don’t know the specific details of King Lear, I do know that it’s a tragedy - but the ending was still so beautifully done that I found myself unable to put it down for the last 100 pages.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with an ARC!
Private Rites manages to build a tense, spooky atmosphere, while also emphasizing that the characters barely recognize the sense of impending doom. It is a beautiful exploration of grief and what happens to families after an unexpected loss, while also incorporating magic, climate change, and a world that seems to be falling apart. All of the different elements are woven together with beautiful prose. At times I found it difficult to distinguish the characters Irene and Isla from each other, but overall the characters felt real, and I was invested in their stories and relationships.
Rating: 4.25/5, rounded to 4 on Goodreads

I had a bit of a tough time with this one. I absolutely loved Our Wives Under the Sea, so Private Rites was one of my most anticipated books for this year. Armfield is a great writer. There were so many poignant lines that really hit home for me especially when it came to interpersonal family relationships. The characters were so well realized and fleshed out. They felt like real people. Also, no one does moody, atmospheric writing quite like Armfield. That said, it was really hard for me to find my stride with the story. I couldn't get through it. While I think it was a well written book, I just kept finding myself to be bored.

I requested and received an eARC of Private Rites by Julia Armfield via NetGalley. I haven’t read Armfield’s previous work, so her prose was entirely new to me. Private Rites very much gives Lesbian Lear in a world that is disappearing beneath water. The novel follows three sisters (Isla, Irene and Agnes) who have not spoken in sometime when they’re informed of their father’s death. As they come together in an icy renewal of relations to deal with his passing, old secrets and tensions bubble to the surface, threatening to break loose.

Armfield created this wet, moody world that I absolutely did not want to be a part of, but I couldn’t rip myself away from it. This atmospheric feat is punctuated by sharply defined characters who feel so entirely real that it is impossible not to be angered and intrigued by them. The way their minds work, the way the sisters relate to one another and understand each other, is really gripping stuff. And Jude? How could you not want to step through the page and meet someone like Jude. I always attach myself to a character in a novel and they were the perfect one for me.

Aside from Armfield’s impressive writing style, the story is simply good! Not a lot happens and then it seems as if everything happens at once. I felt really engaged because the story maintains a certain level of tension throughout that left me wondering how this novel could possibly conclude. The ending was a really spectacular event that left me both breathless and completely disoriented. Maybe this says something about me, but my favorite aspect of the novel was that I felt a strong kinship with both Isla and Irene. As characters they aren’t likable, but they’re very relatable. I also loved how the author interrogates this question of how we define ourselves and how we view the idea of possession in a disappearing world.

The last 15% this book shocked me to my core. Just when I thought I knew what was happening, things took a complete 180. I loved that. It was hard for me to get into at first. I was confused, a little bored and kind of upset with everyone. That being said, it was well worth sticking it out. I love books that stick in my brain for a long time and this is another one of those from the author.

The writing style: word choices, vivid imagery, and alternating perspectives created a slower pace with sparse but significant dialogue, considerable inner thoughts and monologues, and memory recall. Julia Armfield uncomfortably, yet somehow gently submerged me into Private Rites until I was swallowed up like the citizens by the endless rains that gradually flooded the planet.
The alternating perspectives were labeled and easy to follow. The city personified as a casual observer, gave a neutral voice to the slow descent into the madness of "end times."
The journey began immediately, as a chilling uneasiness captured and held my attention throughout. This atmospheric novel painted a grim view of a not impossibly far-off dystopian world where life crawled along, grasped at normalcy, yet simultaneously plunged full speed ahead to its watery conclusion.
The main characters provided insight into the new normal through the distorted views of their respective dysfunctional lenses. They had long-suffered childhood trauma from a fractured family and a father who was possibly psychotic or narcissistic.
Armfield gave plenty to think about. Humans cycled through despair and hope, searching for fulfillment, usefulness, relationships, and the need for actual solutions to the crisis. She pointed out the wealth disparity and its effect on how people managed the rising water levels. Some became numb, some sought supernatural guidance, some became self-destructive, some protested, and some ignored the obvious.
I have only scratched the surface of what could be parsed from this terrifying tale. It is terrifying because of the believability of the circumstances and the clarity, that is to say, the muddy, gray, damp, cold way that it is presented. It is a bit twisty. All the pieces are there, somewhat skewed until they become defined.
I did not love the author's choice for the ending. I have sat with it, and I have accepted it. I highly recommend this book and its author. Be aware though that it is dark and heavy but so well done.
It could be triggering to some who are managing depression.
#sapphic #dystopian #climatecrisis #risingwaterlevels #mentalillness #dysfunctionalfamily #horror #queer

Like a weird hybrid of Coco Mellor’s Blue Sisters and Ari Aster’s Hereditary with an apocalypse backdrop. If you were a fan of Our Wives Under the Sea and hoping for something similar, this isn’t really it. It’s a beautifully written piece of literary fiction about family dynamics after a loss, but I personally was hoping for a little more of the weirdness that Armfield’s previous novel had. I feel like this was marketed to be similar, but ultimately the more interesting pieces of this book were in the last fifty pages or so. It’s very meditative, interesting in some points and a bit slow at others. Ultimately I wanted more focus on the slow moving apocalypse, but most of the time it felt like an afterthought. Still a gorgeously written book and Armfield’s talent certainly shines.

Some really interesting ideas packed into this novel, but they aren't given much space. The characters are very flat and keep repeating themselves as the plot slowly inches forward. While I understand the dread and danger are slowly escalating on purpose, it doesn't have enough payoff for the book to end up being entertaining. The "horror" comes into play way too late and is very short lived. It just feels kind of pointless by the end and doesn't really give much to the retelling aspects.

Well, this was definitely not as great as <i> Our Wives Under the Sea </i>. To be fair, I really loved Julia Armfield's previous novel. So much so that when I saw this as an ARC, I checked my email constantly to see if I got it or not.

Armfield clearly loves water to a degree that I didn't think was possible. This novel follows the strained relationship of three sisters dealing with the death of their wealthy father during a dystopian future where it never stops raining. The chapters go back and forth between sisters and what is happening in the flooded city. I've never read about a future where water is ever present, so this was a nice change of pace.

<i>Private Rites</i> is classified as horror. Horror seems like a bit of a stretch. It was a bit spooky, especially if you, like me, are sadly moving through life with the looming threat of climate change ever present (113 degrees in California tomorrow).

Having multiple character point of views is a little jolting at times, but it does allow for some nice character development. I love how all sisters were in queer relationships - like, yes, thank you for this. As mentioned in the book, there are several families where all siblings are hetero and no one bats an eye. However, I do NOT appreciate the amount of times I read the word "tits" - it's one of the few words I loathe. It's my "moist".

All in all, I liked this. I had a good time. It just wasn't as beautifully done as her previous work. Thank you NetGalley and Fourth Estate for the ARC!

I don’t know how it is possible for something to be ethereal and yet deeply sunken at the same time, yet Julia Armfield does it with this novel. There is a deep longing, a type of desperation, which weighs all of our characters down, keeping them submerged, but at the same time if you try to hold on to them they seem like they have no choice but slip out of your grasp.

This novel is set in the (near?) future, in an unnamed, London-esque city, which is under water. The world is under water, the rains barely ever stop, and yet capitalism and modernity pause for no one, with the wealthy moving to higher and higher land, or building houses that can raise to match the waters’ depths, and the lower floors of skyscrapers are sacrificed and sealed off as everyone moves upward. There are attempts at infrastructure, elevated-rail trains and ferry-taxis, and the poor spend hours with social workers in government offices begging for a place to sleep. The waters are deepening, though, human ingenuity cannot keep up. This is the world Armfield invites us into, in an intimate story about three sisters navigating the death of their father. This contrast, this portrait of the external constantly invading the internal, runs throughout the story. What is the intimate melodrama of one family when the world is ending? Is a private apocalypse any more or less devastating than the public apocalypse?

The story cycles through the perspective of all three sisters, and Armfield explores ideas of inheritance, power, and relationship. Each sister is lost in her own world, none of them particularly happy. There is not a lot of plot, so to speak, but instead a deep relationship with this family; yet, as they are barely able to understand themselves, we are constantly left wanting, feeling their growing despondency as our own. The eldest sister, Isla, is constantly trying to control situations that are unable to be controlled. Irene, the middle, always has to be right, and has a razorblade for a tongue that can’t help but lash out, sowing the seeds of her own discontent with every word she utters. The youngest, Agnes, who has a different mother, is a decade younger and seems so focused on herself, so apathetic to everything and everyone else, that it is slowly destroying her. They share in common a monstrous father, one who we only know through their hazy memories of him. They all process his death differently, and Armfield paints a bleak picture of how the same solipsism that brought about the current climate disaster can also isolate oneself from others, from the best opportunity for reconciliation and growth that you may have. Our past traumas condition us to hide from the very things that can liberate us, and so we let them slowly, continually invade our lives, like a slow leak that floods one floor at a time.

This story is bleak. Yet, there is some hope: two ancillary characters, partners to two of the sisters, show us that not everyone is wracked with the same desolation as our protagonists. Even as the world sinks we have control over our hearts and minds. What does that hope mean for our sisters? It is hard to say. When reading across these three sisters, it feels like there is so much emotional weight it is hard to narrow down exactly what this story is about. But at its heart there is the question of relationships, to ourselves and to each. How we create them, sustain them, or let them molder. They can be the life rafts that keep us afloat or the stones in our shoes and pockets that sink us to the depths. Instead of giving any easy resolutions Armfield forces us to look inward and see what we hold dear, and ask ourselves, will it drag us down, or lift us up?

As I mentioned, there isn’t a strong plot in this novel, there aren’t necessarily a lot of things our protagonists have to do, per se, but the exquisite writing, both languid and fraught, pulls the reader deeper and deeper into the depths of what story there is. This story is focused on the characters, with there just being enough story and plot to keep them moving, to keep our attention, to let them grow and change, or at least face the prospect of it. It is not a story about action but reaction; notably the most dramatic event, the father’s death, happens before the story begins. Yet there are dreamscapes that weave their way through the story and come to a rather powerful and unexpected conclusion. Armfield manages to create a distinct world, develop intimate and relatable characters, and crash them up against each other in poetic, beautiful ways. The novel is quite affecting and meditative, and I am glad I had the chance to read it.

I want to thank the author, the publisher Flatiron Books, and NetGalley, who provided a complimentary eARC for review. I am leaving this review voluntarily.

We follow three queer sisters - Isla, Irene, and Agnes. They are coming together after the death of their elusive father, trying to get affairs in order as the world is cast in a grey, forever rainy state around them. The sisters have never been very close, but all share the same childhood trauma and questions that have never been answered.
This was my first book by Julia Armfield, so I was a bit blinded going into it. The writing was so descriptive, and every character was alive and real. The atmosphere of the city…. You could feel the oppressiveness constantly. A city where rain never stops, people are losing their homes, a depressing scene to say the least.
However, this book was so dreary, I fear it put me in a bit of a slump. It was very slow burn, and so many things were still left unsaid or unanswered. But, those last fifty or so pages…. The weirdness and the unsettling feelings it gave me… THAT was absolutely perfect. I want to wrap that ending off and send it to everyone I know because wow. If that wasn’t literary horror, I have no clue what is.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher who provided me with an ebook copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. All of these thoughts and opinions are my own.

it's no secret that julia armfield has quickly become a favorite and auto-buy author for me, so i had been saving my ARC of private rites for a rainy day (no pun intended) and finally read it in a (successful!) attempt to kill the reading slump i've been in all month.

in typical julia armfield fashion, this was both hauntingly grim and quietly unsettling, but with plenty of hauntingly beautiful moments and realizations sprinkled throughout. i really thought this worked as a king lear retelling-- it captured the *~vibes~* of the original shakespeare play while still feeling wholly unique (and very queer). i would say there's less outright body horror in this book compared to julia armfield's other books and short stories, but there's just this general feeling of dread that pervades the entire book. i really loved the exploration of relationship dynamics (both familial and romantic) in private rites. it's the end of the world, so every relationship feels like it has massive stakes, but also cultivating relationships in a world like the one in this book feels necessary to maintain any sense of sanity?? i thought this was shown really effectively through all three main characters in this book.

the end of private rites, while i did see it coming, was chilling to the point where i finished the book and just said "oh my god." out loud to an empty room.

all in all, i really think anyone who's enjoyed julia armfield's other work will love this one. if you want to read a book about a quiet apocalypse that leaves you feeling equal parts doomed and hopeful, this one needs to be on your tbr.

thank you to the publisher for sending a digital ARC my way via netgalley in exchange for an honest review!

I loved Julia Armfield’s previous book SO much that I was nervous going in to this book, but I was not disappointed. Her writing is so absolutely jaw droppingly gorgeous; it itches something in my brain just right. This is a really grief-heavy book, which can be really hard to read. But it’s navigated with grace and empathy and is a really fantastic exploration of family, love, relationships, and emotion. I’m so excited to read more from this author.

This was a really interesting way to reimagine King Lear. I found myself interested, but I think that there were a few too many POVs for my taste.

Thank you NetGalley and Flatiron Books for the ARC in exchange for an honest review!

Julia Armfield is a wonderful writer, there's no denying that. However, this is the second book of hers that just hasn't quite hit for me. There are some fantastical and magical elements to them that if they'd been more fleshed out, could've been truly amazing, but I'm left severely wanting each time. Less wanting than her other book, for the ending of this one was good.

I loved the complicated sister dynamics and the impending apocalyptic world she created, so I finished the book, but at 80% when it felt like the plot was still barely moving, it grew super frustrating. I liked a lot of it, hence the rating, just probably won't pick up another book of hers. I think a disservice is done by marketing it as a horror novel - it keeps me wanting more and hoping for more. As a horror reader and lover, I don't feel it belongs there, but I suppose it's a subjective thing.