Ali Smith’s *Gliff* is a captivating exploration of what it means to be human in an increasingly digital world. Smith crafts a story that’s as intellectually engaging as it is emotionally resonant. The narrative follows two sisters left to fend for themselves in a dystopian future, but what really stands out is the way Smith captures the small, vivid moments of joy and discovery amidst the bleakness. Her prose is subtle yet impactful, bringing out the innocence and resilience of the characters in a way that feels incredibly real.

What I appreciated most about *Gliff* is how it makes you think—about who we are, who we could become, and how we relate to the world around us. The dialogue is sharp and often funny, grounding the story in a relatable reality despite its dystopian setting. It’s the kind of book that stays with you, raising questions that linger long after you’ve finished. While the story leaves some things unanswered, it’s clear that this is just the beginning, and I’m already looking forward to what comes next. *Gliff* is a thoughtful, engaging read that offers both depth and subtlety, making it a novel that I’ll definitely be revisiting.

thanks to knopf/ pantheon and netgalley for the e-ARC!

*Gliff* . . .
…..is a Scottish word that has multiple meanings. A glimpse or faint trace. A suggestion. A sudden fright or scare. A brief moment or instant.

In Ali Smith’s *Gliff*. . .
she “explores how and why we endeavour to make a mark on the world. In time when Western industry wants to reduce us to algorithms and data—something easily categorizable and predictable—Smith shows us why our humanity, our individual complexities, matter more than ever”.

I’m still pondering thoughts — wondering about the ‘next story’ …. I’d read it tomorrow if it was available—
—this story is vibrantly imagined. It’s illuminated by the warmth and delicacy of her prose.
It’s emotionally wrenching…. intellectually rigorous… alternately delightful and hilarious…
and deeply affecting.

Ali Smith delivers some killer marvelous dialogue:
“What do you think is the single most important issue facing us in this country today and anything else issue wise facing us today and whether you think immigration is a very big problem and whether you prefer dogs or cats and what you think is a general threat as concerns defence and foreign affairs and homegrown terrorism which toothpaste you use and why?” . . . etc. etc. etc.
“And which social media platforms do you use and what for and which platforms do you like most and least and which do you trust most and least?” . . . etc. etc. etc.

For me … the storytelling was as much an intimate tale between two sisters who have been separated from their mother, and caretaker … [little ragamuffins] …. as it is
anticipatory anxiety driven ….with …
uncertainty concerns
about…
*our future* …..
but it’s that too.

Briar/Brice (*Bri*), is our primary narrator for most of the book. She’s looking back at her childhood journey that she shared with her younger sister, Rose. Two years apart in age — just young teenagers when they were alone in a shabby house to fend for themselves.

Bri:
“Across a busy traffic road, and across another scrubland, my sister in the distance, I knew her by her clothes, was perched up on one of the struts of a wooden fence and leaning over its top”.
“Look at what there is so close to where we live! She said.”
“I climbed up on to the fence too.”
“Seven horses, small and large, all the colours of horse, beautiful, and mangy, were drifting their noses across grass and ripping it with their teeth from the ground, making a sound I’d never heard before”.
Oh ….
[my reading heart] ….
I felt the ‘moment-of-joy’ for these two young abandoned sisters. I felt their innocence down in my toes. They had only seen horses on TV.
Sisters, so hungry themselves — their excitement in pulling handfuls of grass wanting to feed the horses—their urgency, their energy, inspired me.

I loved taking in the way Bri and her sister Rose, observed life - thought about it - even smelled it.
They not only thought that the horses (and especially their eyes), were beautiful, but they noticed that they could see light in its darkness.
The sisters also noticed concurrency—multiple things happening at one time: gentleness, politeness, indifference, and distance.
Bri didn’t know the word for what they were experiencing in the horses eyes until many years later. “The word was:
equanimity”.

A wonderful moment of laugher …. ( ha! sister-love)…
….Bri was feeling irritated with her younger sister, Rose:
“Her happiness had started to annoy me. So I said, I can’t believe you’re being so profligate already”.
“Being so what? she said”.
“Profligate, I said”.
“You are bullying me with words longer than the length of my life, she said”.
“It’s not my problem if you don’t know what words mean, I said”.

There were several other burst-out-laughing scenes.
Little Rose was the wild one - Bri, the carefully responsible one.
Both were priceless! Glorious!
I also enjoyed meeting other children in this story.
Feisty, bossy children …
some feral,
or silent,
or sullen,
all a little ragged.

Sooo much more!!! Much to contemplate… to enjoy … to ponder and ponder and ponder some more.
….Symbolism, rhetorical questions, personal and universal storms, friendship exchanges….and love!
Always love!

“Was a horse more loss to the world, because of no words, or was the horse more found — in the world because of no words”.

“We can’t solve it. But we can salve it”.
“That was something else our mother’d say”.

Whew!!! Amen!
Intellectually, rigorous, cerebral at times — innocent & playful at times —
Beautiful moments … regardless whether or not I fully comprehended all — Ali gave us an extraordinary brilliant, harrowing, heartbreaking, and fascinating story.
LOVE ❤️ 🌎

Profound thank you thank you thank you to Netgalley and Knopf/Pantheon for the ARC!

A new Ali Smith is always cause for celebration - and much like her compatriots Deborah Levy and Rachel Cusk, I always find her works challenging, intellectually dense, and often enigmatic (sometimes even inscrutably incomprehensible) - but in the BEST of all possible ways. Such an immense pleasure to immerse oneself in her gorgeous, elliptical prose and imaginative storytelling. So it is with this latest tome, her first since her magnificent Seasonal Quartet + Companion Piece.

This, the first in a duology, leaves many questions unanswered, that may or may not become clearer when the other volume (Glyph) comes out a year from now- but this gives one more than enough to contemplate till that happens. After finishing it, I immediately went back to the beginning and began reading it again - yes, it's THAT kind of book.

To be utterly reductive, it's a dystopian novel, set in the very near future, and is for the most part (till the very end) narrated by a woman named Briar (aka Bri and Brice), looking back from some years down the road (and an even more formidable future), to a time when she was thirteen and she and her sister Rose became separated from their mother, due to some sinister shenanigans of the current totalitarian political regime. They are left to fend for themselves for the most part, and it is when Rose becomes enamored of a horse scheduled for the abattoir, whom she names Gliff, that their bleak existence finds focus and purpose. For fear of spoilers, I will leave things there - but cannot wait to continue the story as soon as part two becomes available.

how do i even begin to review this?
honestly, of all the words in a dictionary, in the worlds, all the languages
i’m struggling
but it gave me a sense of
how do i say
openness?
belonging? maybe not?
this was a world the future could be
it’s gutting to imagine but we’re partially one foot in that doorway
but we can change that, can’t we?

as i read more i started to understand more, felt my mind splitting apart into different understandings
of who we are, who we aren’t, who others are, or aren’t.
we truly can be. anyone we want to be.