The Still Point

Amy Sackville demonstrates that she is the mistress of narrative and structure in this stunningly crafted tale of icebergs and splintering marriages.

It’s one of those hot, sticky July days and Surrey simmers in the heat. Julia, a recently married archivist, sifts through a ramshackle assortment of belongings in her newly-inherited ancestral home. Rifling through arctic souvenirs in the dust-ridden attic, Julia discovers her great-great-uncle’s diary from the doomed northern expedition that took place one hundred years ago.

We are allowed to spy as Julia is reeled into the past of Edward Mackley, a tragic hero desperate to track the icy plains that lie between him and the North Pole before returning, a resplendent figure, to his wife Emily. Before the day is over Julia must question her romantic idealism of their marriage as well as address the fractures of her own.

Sackville’s artfully fragmented narrative will take you on a euphoric journey from a steamy midsummer day to the icy wastes of Franz Josef Land. One minute you will be mesmerised by the steel white brightness of the arctic and the next minute your mouth will water at Julia’s stream of consciousness account of poaching an egg for breakfast. An impressive debut that skilfully observes the physical and emotional distances that can exist between two people.