For much of the book I found this a grating reading experience. One of its characters in particular is personified so perversely, at such length and so repetitively that I nearly gave up and walked away. While Barnes is a clever, witty and occasionally moving writer, her focus on the impossible mother seems to me to have needed some stiff editorial input. The father also has his irritating traits and while this relationship is the hinge of the book, I found it excessive even in a relatively short work.
In other words, there’s much too much set up and not enough of the more intense and emotionally affecting material that comes in a rush at the end. As a result, I found it hard to care for anyone much. Maybe excepting the ducks.

Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this eARC.

Camilla Barnes’ debut novel, The Usual Desire to Kill, is a wry and propulsive exploration of family dynamics, sibling rivalry, and long-buried secrets. Set against the picturesque yet decaying backdrop of rural France, this novel offers a sharp and often hilarious portrait of a singularly eccentric family.

The story is narrated by Miranda, the wickedly observant daughter of a long-married couple whose relationship is as dilapidated as their home. As Miranda navigates the complexities of her own life, she uncovers secrets that have shaped her family’s history and with continued impact. The narrative effectively veers from dark humor to poignant reflection, creating a rich tapestry.

Barnes excels in creating vivid and multi-dimensional characters. Miranda is a compelling narrator, whose sharp wit and keen observations bring the story to life. Her parents, with their eccentricities and flaws, are portrayed with both empathy and humor. The relationship between Miranda and her brother is stressed. Each character is meticulously crafted, making their interactions and conflicts feel authentic and relatable.

The Usual Desire to Kill delves into themes of generational divides, the impact of secrets, and the complexities of familial love. Barnes’ writing is both lyrical and incisive, capturing the nuances of her characters’ emotions and the intricacies of their relationships. The humor in this novel effectively lightens the dark subject.

Camilla Barnes has crafted a remarkable debut that is both entertaining and thought-provoking. The Usual Desire to Kill is a testament to her skill as a storyteller, offering a fresh and insightful look at the ties that bind us and the secrets that can tear us apart. This novel is sure to resonate with readers who appreciate well-drawn characters, sharp dialogue, and a narrative that balances humor with emotional depth.

Highly recommended for fans of literary fiction and family dramas, as well as those who enjoy a touch of dark humor in their reading.

I enjoyed the humor here, but the writing style just wasn't for me. I typically finish books in a day or two; I've been sitting on this one for months because I can't get thru more than a few pages without FOMO creeping in - there's a book I'll enjoy much, much more out there I could be reading instead.

I want to be clear I don't think this is the fault of Camilla Barnes. Some books just aren't for some people, this one sadly wasn't for me. Because it seems like such a personal mismatch though, I'm giving this the benefit of the doubt with 3/5 stars and won't be posting my reviews publicly, I don't think it would be a very valuable for other readers and don't want to negatively impact the avg rating.

{Thank you bunches to NetGalley, Camilla Barnes and Scribner for the eARC in exchange for my honest review!}

Thank you to Scribner for providing this ARC for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.

The Usual Desire to kill is a novella about a long-married but also long-suffering couple of Brits living in a dilapidated manor in the French countryside. The story is told through letters from their younger daughter to their elder, diary flashbacks from the 1960s, and the occasional vignette of the granddaughter.

This book is not particularly plot-heavy. More of an atmospheric piece meets a character study, the bulk of the book really is a slice-of-life narrative. For those inclined to books that are highly plot focused this book may not be suitable.

The characters are truly what shine in this short book. The propriety-obsessed mother character, who masks loss and disappointment with criticism and a domineering nature is at constant odds with her pedantic and distance husband, mellowed by age and hearing loss.

The book examines marriages born from something other than love, juxtaposed by the singleness of the two adult daughters. Additionally the book deftly describes the dynamics of caring for aging parents, and the distribution of that labor between siblings. The book delves very heavily into family dynamics and the way our relationships morph with age and understanding (or lack of.)

I felt that despite all the absurdities (the horrific chest freezer, the paid of llamas), that the portrait of aging parents and the change from child to adult child-caregiver was very relatable. Dealing with the fading and changing of one’s elderly parents can be frustrating and can bring to light long-buried resentments, which the author perfectly captures

One of the more interesting characters in the book is Alice, whose role in the family as granddaughter shields her from some of the crueler and more peculiar elements of her grandparents. While her mother and aunt can be judgmental and impatient, Alice demonstrate the benefits that generational removal brings to a relationship.

Overall, the book was a sleepy yet lovely picture of an eccentric family. I’d recommend it for anyone who enjoyed the Royal Tennenbaums, or Grey Gardens. 4 out of 5 stars.

I really struggled through this book. I think Barnes is a great writer, and the book is funny and light. However, I felt like it moved slowly and there wasn’t much to keep me interested.

What an unusual book! It's the tale of an elderly couple living in rural France with a menagerie of animals (including two llamas, eight ducks, five chickens, and two cats). The couple argues and argues and mainly rely on their daughter Miranda to keep the peace and the lines of communication flowing. Miranda details this all in letters to her sister and her daughter. Genially signed off with “the usual desire to kill," meaning one or both of her parents.

This is a character study and filled with sharp retorts and observations. Anyone who is beginning to become a caregiver for their elderly parents ("I can't remember my password.") will surely relate. It's funny, poignant and delightful.
#scribner #theusualdesiretokill #camillabarnes

This is an amusing read that never fully grabbed my attention. I was intrigued by the plot description and loved the writing style - I am not surprised the author is a seasoned playwright as each scene feels like it is unfolding out on a stage). I would recommend this to anyone in the mood for a languorous family drama.

Thank you very much to Scribner and NetGalley for the opportunity to read a copy.

This is a hard to one to review, as I adored the writing style. SO witty, so clever. I can't wait to see what Camilla Barnes does next! But plot-wise not a lot is happening here, and the ending felt disappointing. Still, very glad I picked this up!

Camilla Barnes’ THE USUAL DESIRE TO KILL ricochets between laugh-out-loud ludicrous to deeply sad. Scenes run the gamut from, let’s say, Puck’s “Lord, would fools these mortals be!“ to Thoreau’s “the mass of men (sic) live lives of quiet desperation,” often simultaneously.

The novel spans a couple generations, with British and French setting and sensIbilities, told in letters, narratives and even sketches. As I read from a perspective even older than Mum and Dad, whose trajectory is “slowly downhill,” I sometimes saw myself and people I know in the characters. To great effect. Like Mum, I may have offered secondhand ointment to loved ones, only for them to discover it had been prescribed years ago for a long-dead cat. And I may have left the room rather engage in excessively correct but emotionally irrelevant Aristotelian conversation, like retired philosophy professor Dad. Portraying the corrosive effect years of such silent battles can have is how Barnes manages to swing between Shakespeare and Thoreau in this character-driven debut.

With thanks to NetGalley and Scribner for an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

4.5/5 stars rounded up!

Thank you so much to NetGalley for an ARC of The Usual Desire to Kill!

I had a really great time reading this one and found the story very funny, smart, and a bit nostalgic. Barnes has a way of writing prose that really scratch an itch in my brain. I enjoyed these characters so much and was a little sad to part ways by the end of the book. I am such a huge fan of family saga type books and anything that hones in on family dynamics, so this was a real treat to read. This is one I will definitely be purchasing when published as I know I am going to want to do many rereads. Barnes is absolutely an author I will be keeping my eye on!

In The Usual Desire to Kill, set in a rundown home in the French countryside, we follow Miranda, our protagonist, as she visits her quirky parents and recounts their time together to her sister, Charlotte.

Throughout this novel's exploration of family dynamics, we see a series of inside jokes and the familiar eccentricities that make up one's family. These elements create a warm and connected feeling, as you get the sense of love, exasperation, disbelief, and Stockholm syndrome that sort of makes up a family unit.

The novel spans generations, sharing the Matriarch's youthful letters to her sister to a granddaughter navigating her way in the world.

I would recommend this read. It took me on an emotional journey that felt like going home for the holidays—my heartfelt thanks to NetGalley and Scribner for the ARC.