How To Be Both

I haven't read any Ali Smith books before. I thought perhaps I had, but now I suspect I was mixing her up with Monica Ali. And when I heard about the split structure of How To Be Both, I thought it sounded a bit gimmicky -- one half written from the point of view of a fourteenth century fresco painter, the other from the perspective of a newly grieving contemporary teenager, but with the two sections printed in one order in some copies, and the other way around in others. But what do I know? How To Be Both is sensational.

At first I thought I was going to struggle with this novel, because it's written with eccentric punctuation, no speech marks, and the first few pages (of my copy, at least) were more akin to poetry than prose, and I do historically find poetry Quite Hard Work. But the rhythm of the novel soon swept me away. It's about art, and history, and observing; it's about love, and loss, and memory; it's about women, and perception, and friendship; it's about family, and words, and pictures; it's about money, and fame, and reputation. And true to the promise of the premise, the two stories, while separate, reflect and resonate upon each other in unexpected and lovely ways. It wasn't a hard read at all, and I adored it. No wonder it won all the prizes. And now I have to read all the other Ali Smith novels I can find.