Off the Shelf: Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors
A triumphant second novel. Some controversial thoughts. Plus 10 other novels about sisters.
“Being part of four sisters always felt like being part of something magic.”
I’m completely fascinated by the relationship between sisters. I have very close girlfriends, who I love dearly, but “A sister is not a friend” writes Coco Mellors in the very first line of Blue Sisters, setting out her stall most emphatically.
Growing up, I was an only child for six years, but had imaginary siblings: a brother called Thomas and a sister called Emily. When my mother told me she was pregnant, I was so convinced it was going to be Emily that upon being told I had a baby brother, I replied that there’d been a mistake, and please could they swap him for my sister? (I got over this. My brother was a cherubic baby and has grown into a jolly nice chap.) And so: sisters. An unknown and highly intriguing relationship.
But to backtrack for a moment…
As a rule, I don’t talk about books I don’t enjoy. Partly because there are so many books I do enjoy, and therefore am keen to press these into the hands of others; and partly because if you can’t think of something nice to say, keep your breath to cool your porridge etc.
But I think it’s important in in this context. Because I was not an outlier when it came to Mellors’ much-vaunted debut novel, Cleopatra and Frankenstein, in which young, beautiful artist Cleo falls for successful ad man and native New Yorker Frank, 20 years her senior. They hurtle into an ill-advised hasty marriage which ends in destruction. Yes, it was emotional and pacy; yes, Mellors can write; and as Tolstoy kind of said, unhappily married couples are unhappy in their own way. For me there was an excess of privileged angst and grubby sex and characters I could not warm to. But it was heaped with praise and lots of people loved it - so what do I know? Maybe I’m just being uptight?
So, I wasn’t sure what to expect from Blue Sisters. But it is a thing of true loveliness. A deeply tender novel about love, grief, addiction, maternity, and - most of all - sisterhood. It manages the enviable feat of being both propulsive and plot-driven (you need to know how it plays out) whilst having characters imbued with warmth and heart.
My friends, I loved it.
For more thoughts on this gorgeous book and further reading (I enjoy this phrase: it reminds me of university days) as we embark on a summer of sisters, please consider upgrading to a paid subscription. For a modest monthly sum (akin to a coffee in one of your fancy London establishments - or, quite frankly, Pret. I was in one for the first time in aeons yesterday and was startled to discover a cappuccino or flat white has broken the four pound mark), you will have access to subscriber-only posts, the full archive AND my summer reading guides - plural! - which are heading your way next month. (Dare I dream that they might accompany summer arriving on British shores? Too much to hope for?)
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