Housegirl

User Reviews

Jennifer ~ TarHeelReader

Rating: really liked it
3.5 stars to House Girl! ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️.5

Housegirl is set in both Ghana and London and is the story of two teen girls facing the life-expanding challenges often associated with “coming of age.”

Belinda is a rule follower, and as a “housegirl,” it is a blessing because she has to keep up with the details of running a household, according to her employers’ wishes. One of the first rules: Belinda has to forget her village and her early life.

Mary is 11-years-old, and as a soon-to-be housegirl, she is still learning the rules. She and Belinda are becoming like sisters.

Amma is the daughter of prominent Ghanaians who are friends of Belinda’s employers, and she is done with rules. The parents decide that Belinda’s disciplined and stalwart ways are the prime example for their daughter. Belinda is then sent to London to live as Amma’s companion and friend, but not without Mary feeling abandoned due to the loss of Belinda.

Amma quickly constructs barriers to keep Belinda at bay; however, slowly, Belinda is able to connect with Amma, especially with the ideas and support she receives from Mary via phone call. Amma and Belinda each have their secrets, which are exposed, affecting the dynamics between them.

I found the Ghanaian words mixed into the dialogue and broken English difficult to decipher at times, of course, and this interrupted the flow of the story. Conversely, I adored watching the girls’ friendship flourish and learning about Ghanaian culture, food, clothing, customs, and daily life.

Housegirl is a story of female friendship, coming-of-age, and claiming one’s identity. It is slower-moving, but a worthwhile effort overall due to immersive culture and well-drawn characters.

Thank you to Macmillan/Picador for the advance review copy. All opinions are my own.

My reviews can also be found on my blog: www.jennifertarheelreader.com

Nicole O

Rating: really liked it
I feel bad criticizing the work of an author, especially a debut novel, as it feels as though I'm criticizing someone's newborn child.

However, I have to remind myself of the fact that I devoted a few hours of my life that I can never get back reading said book, and it in that respect it all evens out anyhow.

The pidgin/broken English in this book is HORRIBLE. Almost unbearable, really. The dialogue sounds as though it was imagined by a WASP who has never set foot outside of their home country, and whose only exposure to the African diaspora stems from documentaries they've watched on National Geographic. The fact that this book is written by a Ghanaian makes the prose within these paragraphs that much worse. As a person of African descent, I'm appalled at the way in which the conversations voiced by Ghanaians in this book is presented. Frankly, I'm disappointed.

Even the syntax within the book is off. At one point, Belinda, the main character, is thinking about the kitchen of her new residence. She gets very descriptive, musing on how the clock on "that messier wall reminded her of cruel machines". This is the same Belinda that could barely string together a coherent sentence in English at the very beginning of the book, but can very aptly describe stylistic design on a kitchen wall? It may have been a small oversight, but it's one that is confusing to the reader and messes up the flow of the book.

One last gripe with this book - while I enjoyed the premise of this novel and the issues that the main characters were grappling with, I tend to find issue when authors attempt to write from perspectives other than their own. At one point in the book, an interaction between Amma, another main character in the story, and a man at a club is narrated as, "He a big black man, and she a sexy young sista". I couldn't have rolled my eyes any harder if I tried. There is also some verbiage included within the book talking about the thoughts and musings of a lesbian that's a lot more crude, but equally as rudimentary. Perhaps Michael Donkor should stick to speaking from the perspectives of those with which he is most familiar.

Would I recommend this book? Given the difficulty with which it took me to get through the horrible broken English at the start of the book and the horrible way in which some parts of the story are narrated, I have to say no. It's a shame, as the plot summary is very interesting and is what drew me to this book in the first place. Unfortunately, I won't be rushing to read any other works that Michael Donkor puts out.

Special thanks to MacMillan-Picador and Netgalley! I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Darkowaa

Rating: really liked it
DNF. Life is too short to indulge in books that make you mad. I'm sure this novel probably gets better when the characters are in London, but I can't keep on reading to get to that point. The dialogue is a mockery/insult to Ghanaians. I'm sure the (clueless) white editors had a jolly ol' time fixing the dialogue to make the housegirl characters speak 'broken english', but its a terrible, terrible attempt. I really like Donkor, but this book ultimately gave me a headache and I can't come and die because of new release. Sorry.

As at now, I'll give this book a 1 star rating. But because I can't finish it, I will not rate the novel.

I'm all for supporting Ghanaian writers & their work, but this novel is a 'no' from me. I'd like to know how other readers of African/ Ghanaian descent feel once they get the chance to read 'Hold' (UK title) / 'Housegirl' (US title). But then again.... was this novel even written for the African/ Ghanaian audience?

Paul Fulcher

Rating: really liked it
Shortlisted for the 2019 Desmond Elliot Prize for debut fiction and longlisted for the Dylan Thomas Prize for young writers

The two of them – Amma, Mary – in their own, very different ways , in their different times and places, had made Belinda think and laugh so hard.

Michael Donkor's excellent debut novel Hold is set in Ghana and South-East London. It opens in December 2002 with 17 year-old Belinda grieving at a traditional funeral in Ghana, but then travels back 9 months to find Belinda working, for the previous 6 months, as a house-girl in Daban, Kumsai, for a wealthy couple, who she knows as Aunty and Uncle, albeit not actual relations.

She was sent away from her home village by her mother, who she no longer has any contact with:

That evening, as Mother had given out her clear instructions about never turning back, perhaps it had been hard to speak so thunderously when, really, under all of that pretending, Mother’s feelings were more unsure and broken.

Although otherwise she seems happy and secure in Daban, and becomes like an elder sister to the other house-girl, 11 year-old Mary. But then a relative of Aunty's arrives from UK, 'Nana', wife of a successful ex-pat businessman Doctor Otuo, and tells Belinda of her own 17 year old daughter, Amma.

'She is very beautiful girl and the book-smartest you will ever find in the UK. Ewurade! Collecting only gold stars and speaking of all these clever ideas I haven’t the foggiest. They even put her in South London Gazette once because of her brains!’ Nana shook her head in disbelief. ‘And when she has a break from doing her homeworks or doing paintings, we shop together in H& M and have nice chats. And she makes her father very proud so he doesn’t even mind that he lacks a son and he never moans of how dear the private school fees are for his bank balance.’

Belinda took the napkin and folded it into quarters. ‘Daznice,’she said. ‘Sounds very nice for you.’

'It used to be nice.’ Nana sighed, put down her Gulder. ‘Past. We have to use past tense because is now lost and gone, you get me? As if in the blinking of a cloud of some smoke she has just become possessed. Not talking. Grumpy. Using just one word, two words for communication. As if she is carrying all of the world on her shoulders.'

Nana and Aunty have decided, before consulting her, on a plan for Belinda - to send her to the UK to live with the Otuo's, not as a housegirl but simply to try and befriend Amma. Belinda's incentive is that the Otuo's will also send money to her mother, since the latter's earnings from her bar job back in the village are inadequate.

But when she has to break the news to Mary, the conversation doesn't go well, Mary feeling that she is being abandoned:

‘You seem to do a very good job of not speaking on the tro tro, me boa?’
‘Not really.’
‘Wo se sɛn?’
‘In my head I had very long talk with you. Very long.’
‘Sa?’ Belinda scooped the contents of the asanka into the frying pan and took a big step back while the oil hissed.

The Otuo's live in a vividly drawn South-East London, which proves rather a disappointment to Belinda. Indeed Donkor cleverly hasn't set this up as a contrast between rich London and poor Ghana, if anything the opposite - even their house is rather small compared to Aunty and Uncle's compound:

Didn’t Nana and Doctor Otuo feel boxed in or too small here? Why did the cars pass right in front of the house – where was the perimeter wall? The swimming pool?
...
The Otuos’ Narbonne Avenue was smart, marked by pointy black lampposts like those outside the Huxtables’ on The Cosby Show repeats Aunty loved. Each morning from her new window, Belinda saw men swinging briefcases and women flicking scarves called pashminas.

But late the following Saturday afternoon, as Nana, Belinda and Amma walked from the house in matching wrappers, a few minutes away on Railton Road, they were somewhere unrecognisable. Clusters of tired buildings were interrupted by a betting shop, an ‘off licence’, the Jamaican Take Away, ‘Chick ‘n’Grillz’. And none of them sold what they promised. Fronts were smashed or boarded up. Even the earlier rain seemed to have collected more dangerously here, lapping at Nana’s peep-toes. A gust came at Belinda with a rumour of nearby bins, beer, and spoiled fruit.

The reader soon realises that Amma's situation is more than just teenage angst:

It had been ages since the Saturday when she had put away all the important things from the Brunswick Manor Gifted and Talented Residential into the trinket box. On that day, it had rained appropriately and persistently . Amma had waited for weeks and weeks to hear anything, anything at all.

(view spoiler)

Amma attends an outstanding and prestigious private school SGHS, which one rather suspects draws on St Paul's Girl School (SPGS) where the author himself teaches, albeit he has relocated the school from Hammersmith to Streatham and imposed a school uniform.

Donkor’s day job as an English teacher also helped him access the female teenage mindset. His current post is at St Paul’s girls’ school in west London. “It’s funny,” he says, “because the girls at school ask me whether they have inspired some of my observations about teenage girls… and yeah, I’m watchful of the ways young people interact. And how direct they are.”

(https://www.theguardian.com/books/201...)

And Donkor does indeed skewer the speech patterns and behaviour of Amma and her friends:

Yesterday had been AS Results Day: Amma and all the other prefects had been garlanded with As. Clutching certificates they did a show of being surprised, relieved.

Going home after the results was not an option. Party! Max from Alleyn’s! With his fat house near Dulwich Village? Off they went.

Max’s dad laid boxes of wine and buckets of beers on the long dining table before high-fiving his son on his way out. As soon as the door shut, before anyone could protest, Amma swiped the Beaujolais. She ran to the basement, slipped off her Converse and stationed herself in the corner of their library to hide. Until the Addie Lees and faggy final kisses at 5 or 6 a.m., Max’s front room would sweatily ripple with skaters in children’s jewellery, students from Camberwell doing Art Foundations, adjusting dungarees and wearing tiny hats, and the chavvier girls in jeans revealing a tasty inch of arse crack; the Stella-ed up young Tories, thick of lip, expansive of forehead and primed for showy debate. On the edges of the dancing and grinding, over fuzzy Drum’n’Bass, conversation would offer nothing of importance or comfort.

[...]

When have you been most scared?’ Amma asked Helena.
‘Funny question.’
‘Try. Go on.’
‘What do you need to know for?’
‘Why so reluctant, ma chérie?’
Helena’s pinking eyes flashed. ‘When I thought I might drown. But you know about that. So you’re probably after something –’
‘Doesn’t matter. Keep going.’
‘So, OK, I was about eight or something. Mum was going out with that creepy cellist then.’
‘Eugh, yeah. With the teeth and the fingernails.’
‘The three of us were in Cornwall. He’d never been and Mum was, like, too happs about showing him everything and blah blah.'

He even throws in some self-satire of an A-level English teacher at the school:

‘So, folks, why might Faulks have used this narrative technique in the extract we’re analysing? Can we all remember what we mean by the term “narrative technique”? Who can remember?’

To emphasise ideas in desperate need of razzmatazz or to lend important questions greater jeopardy, the little man at the front of the class stretched his hands out, up, to the side. Mr Stevens – although ‘Titch’ was more informative – sat on the edge of his table, kicking his legs like a child on a swing. Each of the fifteen girls under his tutelage were destined for As and Russell Group universities, regardless of his efforts. The prospect, the certainty of success, dispirited Amma.
....
Getting an A for an essay was pleasingly straightforward. There were rules to be followed, well-selected places in paragraphs where untaught flair was required. Hiding her feelings in order to turn into the kind of daughter Nana Otuo wanted presented a greater challenge.

SHGS contrasts to the community school that Belinda attends, at the Otuo's insistence, to study a GCSE in English literature.

A rather lazy comparison would be that Donkor does for the multi-ethnic communities of SE London what Zadie Smith has done for the North-West. The book itself makes a nod in that direction, with Belinda's book shelves soon containing:

Penguin copies of Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet, The Tempest and Lord of the Flies for Abacus. A Lambeth Borough Library Card that Mrs Al-Kawthari had helped her apply for. Things Fall Apart and White Teeth for fun.

And Macbeth is a key reference, which she studies at the community school:

Belinda remembered what Macbeth says when he hears about his Lady’s death: how life is only a walking shadow. She had liked the line very much. Mrs Al-Kawthari had put it up on the OHP and asked for volunteers to talk about it. Robert had said it was about God and the riches awaiting us in Heaven. Belinda had not been afraid to only say she found the sentence complicated, beautiful and true.

with Belinda's excessive cleaning, to the Otuo's disapproval given that she is not there to work, reminiscent of Lady Macbeth.

She was pleased at the muck in its bristles. She got to her feet and turned the hot tap on. With ungloved hands, under the stream of scalding water, she plucked the dirt from those spines until they were as white as she could manage.

The reason for this is buried in her past but gradually becomes clear to the reader, as she thinks back to the day she left her mother.(view spoiler)

As the girls gradually open up to each other, Belinda's initial reaction to Amma's secret is far from accepting and Amma fails initially to see why Belinda is so traumatised. But after the tragedy leading to the funeral than opens the book forces Belinda back to Ghana, the two girls have more time to think on the other's situation and their own.

This isn't a novel offering easy closure and all the better for that. If there is a redemptive message from the book it is that ultimately one will be able to cope even with what seem like impossible burdens. Amma slips into a Katherine Mansfield book she lends Belinda for the flight the poem Michiko Dead by Jack Gilbert, from which the novel takes its title:

He manages like somebody carrying a box
that is too heavy, first with his arms
underneath. When their strength gives out,
he moves the hands forward, hooking them
on the corners, pulling the weight against
his chest. He moves his thumbs slightly
when the fingers begin to tire, and it makes
different muscles take over.
Afterward, he carries it on his shoulder, until the blood
drains out of the arm that is stretched up
to steady the box and the arm goes numb. But now
the man can hold underneath again, so that
he can go on without ever putting the box down.

Overall, a beautifully written and powerful novel - recommended.

Cathy

Rating: really liked it
The prologue opens at the funeral of an unidentified person, lodging a question in the back of the reader’s mind as the events of earlier that year (2002) unfold in the rest of the book.

Belinda and Mary are housegirls in the home of a wealthy Ghanaians couple who, following custom, the girls refer to as ‘Aunty’ and ‘Uncle’. (Personally, I would have liked more background about the role and employment/legal status of housegirls in Ghanaian society to help me understand better the relationship.) Belinda and Mary indulge in gentle, good-humoured bickering as they prepare and serve food to their exacting ‘Aunty’ and ‘Uncle’ alongside other daily household duties such as cleaning, laundry and shopping. Mary, in particular, has a quirky sense of humour and an optimistic outlook on life while Belinda, a few years Mary’s senior, is conscious of her role as advisor and guide.

Soon, the two girls are separated when Belinda is sent to London to befriend Amma, the daughter of another rich Ghanaian couple, Mrs and Mrs Otuo. Belinda’s arrival into the confusion of the airport is conveyed in an impressionistic way. ‘A gentle voice came down in a different language. Then another. And then another. […] Strip lighting overhead, black arrows on yellow, corridors with moving floors. […] Queuing. Strip lighting overhead, black arrows on yellow, corridors with moving floors. […] The beeping. The thing to do next: reach the gathering at the tracks that went in a big loop. Stooped older women stood behind concerned men. Bored toddlers harassed teddies’ limbs. Lots of tutting at watches, followed by sighing when suitcases came through the lazy mouth.’ Admit it; you’re there with Belinda at the purgatory that is Baggage Reclaim.

On the journey to her new home, Belinda wonders at the unfamiliar sights of London. ‘…London was one big black road with cars. The motorway gradually thinned out into smaller roads, where there were stores selling rows of plastic bodies – some naked, some clothed – frozen in the middle of dances.’

The author takes the reader through the trajectory of the two girls’ relationship from Amma’s initial suspicion of Belinda’s motives, expressed through a sullen refusal to communicate – ‘…the idea of a visitor itched at her. No privacy. Someone watching, asking questions. Someone else to think about.’ – to Belinda’s gradual breaking down of the emotional barriers Amma has erected, guided by Mary’s sage advice in their periodic funny, chatty phone calls. ‘My sister, if one is a quiet, you have to find clever tricks for to stop them being as that. Sneak into her to make her chat properly.’

In fact, soon the roles seem to be reversed as Amma becomes a support to Belinda as she struggles to cope with inner demons of her own. These promising developments are swiftly halted when a revelation by Amma conflicts with everything Belinda has been taught about right and wrong. Soon after, a tragic event sees Belinda return to Ghana and in the final section of the book the story picks up the narrative from the prologue.

The book is liberally sprinkled with Ghanaian dialect words that had me making frequent use of the glossary. Conversations are rendered in a distinctive style that I’m aware some reviewers of West African heritage have criticised as inauthentic. I’m in no position to judge but I would say that, authentic or not, it did give me a clear sense that I was reading about characters whose background and ethnicity is different to my own. On that subject, I did enjoy learning about Ghanaian culture: clothing, hairstyles, social customs, entertainment, commerce and food.

Hold is a character-driven story about female friendship, exploring your own identity – cultural, sexual, social – and finding a direction in life. I received a review copy courtesy of publishers, 4th Estate, and NetGalley, in return for an honest and unbiased review.

Andre

Rating: really liked it
Belinda is the lead protagonist of this novel that never really hits a higher gear. It’s like being in a car riding on a flat land and never shifting out of first gear. There are no scary turns, no dangerous hills, no steep climbs, just miles of flat terrain. The novel just moves along telling Belinda’s story as a house girl in Ghana who gets sent to London, not as a house girl but to act as a friend to a girl called Amma, who is going through some tough times.

The story has no sizzle and without any thrills along the way it was hard to maintain a sustained interest in Belinda or anyone else. I found myself thinking, ‘okaaay‘, on several occasions, wanting more, needing more. But the flatness of the terrain remained consistent throughout the book. There was a brief bump with Amma’s struggles that could have provided a respite from first gear but it was quickly smoothed over and never explored deeply enough to allow the shifting of gears. The prose was ordinary with moments of sparks and cleverness, but unfortunately not enough to propel this novel beyond ordinary. Thanks to Netgalley and Picador for an advanced DRC. Book will be published 8/28/2018 in the US.

Lata

Rating: really liked it
3.5 stars. Some wonderful writing about the relationships between the women/girls in this story. And the way ideas about sexuality, one’s perception of worth, communication and interactions are affected by culture, one’s economic stability and place in society.
This is the author’s first book; the beginning is a little difficult to get through, but afterwards, the story flowed better, and I could appreciate the relationships and situations much better. And though she’s not a main character, like the tortured pair of Belinda and Amma, Mary was a standout for me, and practically leaped off the page each time she appeared.

Anni

Rating: really liked it
With shifts in narrative between England and Ghana, an unusual depiction of immigrant experience is found in this novel, from the perspective of two adolescent girls. Though very different in their upbringing and characters, Amma and Belinda develop kinship in their search for a place in the world, when sexual and cultural identities are in confusion. It's a fascinating glimpse into diverse British communities such as this West African one in Brixton.

DubaiReader

Rating: really liked it
This looked like being the perfect read for me - a coming-of-age novel set partly in Ghana, with the additional appeal of immigration issues. Unfortunately it didn't work for me and I struggled to finish.

The narrative divides quite abruptly between Belinda's first job, when she works as a maid for a wealthy family in Kumasi, Ghana, and her move to London to become the companion of Amma, a spoiled teenager, who has become increasingly belligerent with her parents. They are hoping that a polite girl like Belinda will teach Amma how to behave better. In return, Belinda is treated as an equal with Amma and is not expected to clean or tidy, though she seems to be a compulsive cleaner anyway. Money is to be sent to her mother in her home village and Belinda will get to study.

Unfortunately, I found the book a bit directionless. I enjoyed the early relationship between Belinda and little Mary but once this continued over the phone, it lost its poignancy and became more of a filler.
Belinda's later relationship with Amma was largely based on dialogue which was unnecessarily stilted and therefore felt awkward and artificial.
I think this book's message was the slow blooming of Amma's sexual awareness but I'd have preferred it to have been more along the lines of Belinda fitting into a new environment, which was more of a secondary issue.

Not a book I'd recommend I'm afraid. Two stars because I did manage to finish it, but it was a struggle.

enricocioni

Rating: really liked it
Belinda, seventeen, and Mary, eleven, are servant-girls for a well-to-do retired couple in Kumasi, Ghana. Amma, also seventeen, is a British-Ghanaian girl living in London: she used to be such a good daughter, but lately something's gotten into her, she's been moody, at best uncommunicative and at worst full of "rude cheekiness", to use her mother's words. Amma's parents are friends with Belinda and Mary's employers, and, impressed with what they hear and see of Belinda's diligence and politeness, and how good she's been at guiding younger, more boisterous Mary, they have an idea: to bring Belinda to live with them in London, so she can figure out what's going on with Amma and help "fix" her. Belinda doesn't really have a choice in the matter, so off she goes. But how will Mary cope without her best friend? How will Amma react to this best friend that her parents are forcing on her? And how will Belinda balance the two relationships, while at the same time figuring out her strange new home?

All three characters—Belinda, Mary, and Amma—struggle with questions of identity, the intersection between their ethnicity, gender, age, sexual orientation, social milieu, and family background. What does it mean to be a Ghanaian living in London? To be a black lesbian? To have a mother who is a social outcast in her village? Can you change who you are or are you "stuck" with whatever combination of personality traits and biographical details you've been allotted? (Admittedly, Mary is fairly sure of who she is and what she wants, but, first, she's the youngest of all three girls, and, second, she sometimes pretends she is someone else in order to deal with the domestic tasks she likes least—a girl called Cynthia who loves grinding peppercorns and slicing onions and climbing up tall stepladders to clean ceiling corners and fans.)

Belinda and Amma do a lot of introspective reflection on these questions, but all three characters figure out most about themselves and each other through conversation. Donkor has a real gift for dialogue: he can do funny, he can do serious, he can do in-between; he gives each character their own distinctive and unmistakable way of talking; and some of the novel's most important plot and character developments (which I would love to discuss explicitly but cannot for fear of spoilers) occur through dialogue. Mary's voice, in particular, is delightful, bold and playful and imaginative. I realise there are important plot reasons why we get less of her than the other two characters (she is the one left behind, after all), but I would have loved a few more pages of her just talking on the phone with Belinda.

Donkor's other great gift is setting. He knows how to provide just enough detail to give readers a sense of the hustle and bustle of a street in London or Accra, the weirdos and eccentrics, the people going about their daily business, the sounds and smells—but also, sometimes, by focussing on certain specific details over others, or by describing certain things in a certain way, he also shows how characters' emotions colour their perception of their surroundings. In one of my favourite passages, Belinda goes to Marks & Spencers for the first time, and Donkor conveys how strange everything seems to her on her way there by transforming inanimate objects into living organisms and people into abstract shapes:

Three striped white vans with swirling blue lights moaned. Buses bent round corners looking like sick caterpillars. Both Nana and Belinda were careful to avoid stubby black bins that choked on packets and bottles, and that made Nana hiss 'Lambeth Council' like those words were bad kenkey on her tongue. A tall man with wheels on his shoes sailed through it all peacefully. He overtook them until he became a thin, upright line between all the bodies in the distance.

If there is one thing that a few readers might find unsatisfying, it's the book's gearshift about three-quarters of the way in, when a Major Event derails the plot and disrupts the arcs of all three major characters, neither of which get the tidy, satisfying ending readers probably want or expect. The first time I read Hold, I was caught off guard, unsure what to think. I wondered—Could it be that Donkor had felt like he'd written himself in a corner, one he could only get out of by deploying a plot-bomb? Was this plot-bomb a cheap trick, and all its consequences therefore unearned? I wasn't sure—so I read the book a second time.

The first thing I noticed on my second go was that the Major Event that happens towards the end of the book is, in fact, simply one of many times in which the rug is pulled from under the reader's feet—one of many times in which we think a scene or arc is going in a certain direction, only to rebel: characters end up behaving in ways that I wasn't expecting but which make complete sense given what we know about them and given human nature in general. It's hard to give examples without spoilering key moments, but one scene that struck me in particular for its unexpected turn involves three characters meeting under very sad circumstances—but instead of talking about these circumstances and offering each other comfort, they sit down to watch the Cosby Show. Which makes sense! I've definitely used tv to cope with bad news in the past, but it's not something I've come across much in books (the only other example I can think of, sort of, is John Green's The Fault in Our Stars, though I'm sure there are a few others).

Not only that, but I also came across a scene which I had enjoyed the first time round but which the second time seemed like the key to understand the novel's (apparently) untidy ending. Belinda and Mary are on a bus, and a woman loudly complains that the newspaper's daily puzzle section is always too difficult. Mary interjects:

"Forgive. Forgive me coming in your personal and private chat, but. Well, why you carry on like every little thing has to have answer? Maybe is fine fine to sometimes only have the questions, and leave there? There is so very much I do not know or understand. But is not causing me a rage and a heartbreaking. If someone just tell you answer, or, or even you are clever enough to work out the answer for yourself and get it, then bam: is finished. You have your answer and no more guessing and thinking. What is the use if all is finished and completed and there is nothing else left to do?"

Which applies to books as well—isn't it more interesting when the reader is left with questions, wondering what this or that character will do after the book runs out of pages, why the book ends where it ends and not a moment sooner or later? In fact, this would be an excellent book club book.

Hold is out in the UK on the 12th of July, 2018, and in the US on August 28th, under the title Housegirls. Pre-order your copy now! I received an advance reading copy of this book by the publisher via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.

For more reviews, head over to my blog, Strange Bookfellows: https://strangebookfellowsblog.wordpr...

Siobhan

Rating: really liked it
Hold is a moving, funny, and sad novel about friendship, shame, forgiveness, and growing up, that is set between Ghana and London. The protagonist is Belinda, a housegirl who moved from her village to Kumasi when the chance came. She works alongside Mary, a spirited eleven-year-old who became the sister Belinda never had, until Belinda is summoned to London to try and bring Amma out of her shell. Amma is a straight-A student who lives in south London with her Ghanian parents, but recently she has started to seem different to them, moody and uncommunicative. They hope that Belinda will be a good example on Amma, but Amma doesn’t want to be friends at first. And when they do start to get along, their own secrets might pull them apart again.

Belinda’s perspective is distinctive and holds the novel together as she discovers new ways to think and thinks back on the past. Donkor combines this with smaller parts from Amma’s perspective, which shows the differences in their lives and points of view and also how their friendship grows slowly. The way Donkor writes their friendship—how it is forced upon them, but also becomes more natural, something of a give and take—is crucial to the novel, which is full of different comparisons.

This is a multi-faceted novel with engaging and memorable characters, and vivid locations including a recognisably local south London centred around Brixton, Herne Hill, and Streatham. It is a story about growing up and coming of age across different cultures and positions in society, but also in relation to shame, sexuality, and grief. Hold is an exciting debut that combines gripping characters with vivid description to create a coming-of-age story with fresh perspectives.

Renita D'Silva

Rating: really liked it
A beautiful and poignant tale

Aoife

Rating: really liked it
I received this book from the publishers via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

DNF - 25%

Hold follows the story of Belinda who is a housegirl in Ghana before she is employed to travel to London and become the companion of the wayward Amma, and the friendship between the two girls.

I was hoping to enjoy this book as the cover is absolutely stunning, and I generally love books that original start off, or have strong ties to African countries as I normally find the setting and culture so beautiful and interesting to explore via literature. However the writing style with Hold just didn't capture me or suit my reading tastes at all.

There is a strange use of English used conversationally between the people in this book from Ghana, and I couldn't understand if this was, culturally, the way Ghanaian people would speak English or if the author was trying to do something. It was hard to read though, as it felt like it had originally been written in another language and then put through Google translate to transform into English. It wasn't nice to read and I felt it interrupted the flow of the story sometimes and made it stilted and awkward.

I know from other reviews that the second half of this book is better than the first but I just couldn't quite get there.

Adi Rocks Socks

Rating: really liked it
3 stars

It breaks my heart to give this book just 3 stars; it had so much potential.

Hold is a contemporary novel that revolves around a Ghanaian house girl named Belinda Otuo. A near-adult, she works for ‘Aunty’ and ‘Uncle’ as their housemaid. Her fellow house girl, Mary, is just a child, and Belinda sort of takes her under her wing, being her mentor, best friend, and big sister.

Meanwhile, Doctor and Nana, a wealthy Ghanaian couple that lives in London, has their own troubles. Their teen daughter Amma is acting out in school, and is undergoing depressive episodes. They reach out to their old friends in Ghana (Uncle and Aunty), who offer to loan out their house girl Belinda to the former, since Belinda is levelheaded, and is likely to restore Amma to her brilliant former self.

This Belinda moves to London to act as Amma’s housemate, and that’s how the story starts.

I think the first great thing about this book is that you don’t have all that many books about the life of a Ghanaian house girl. This is an #ownvoices book, and Donkor has shown us the grim reality — he showed it, rather than told it. What struck me the most is that while Aunty and Uncle are certainly not inhumane employers, they do look at Belinda as something that can be ‘loaned’, like she’s a book their friends can borrow.

Doctor and Nana (the ‘borrowers’) say Belinda should study for her GCSEs and are appalled whenever she cleans their house while staying in London — but they aren’t all that better — they’ve brought Belinda home for Amma the way people bring pets home to help their child. In many ways, they’re just as bad as Belinda’s employers.

At no point do they ask Belinda about what she wants, something that Belinda comes to realise as she becomes an independent thinker through her stay in London and her studies in her multicultural/all-ages GCSE classes.

Amma and Mary are the other two main characters, and Amma even gets her own POV. She’s a lesbian struggling to fit into the heteronormative Ghanaian society of London. She’s tired of her life, and while not a likeable character (bc let’s face it, compared to Belinda who was outcast in her village because of her mother’s profession, and then was essentially an indentured labourer, Amma has led a pretty entitled life), her struggles with coming out made it so easy to empathise with her. (Again, an #ownvoices narration.)

The duality of character Donkor has portrayed through Amma — everyone has good and bad in them; everyone has their own struggles — is something that I liked. It was intellectually stimulating.

Coming to the things I didn’t like that much.

The narration during Belinda’s POVs really bothered me. So Belinda has lived all her life in Ghana and is naturally more fluent in her mother tongue, Twi. That doesn’t explain why Belinda’s thoughts are written in broken English, and Amma (who’s lived in the UK all her life) has her POV in flawless English.

Imo, descriptions of what one sees and feels do not have languages. Belinda’s dialogues could have broken English, yeah? But her cleaning the sink with Cif needn’t be narrated in broken English. It just irked me.

The second thing that bothered me is that in the first part of the book, where Belinda is still in Daban, Ghana, all her conversations with her employers and Mary are ALL in broken English, with a few Twi phrases thrown here and there, even though it’s mentioned elsewhere that all these dialogues were in Twi. Why would all the Twi dialogues of all the Ghanaian characters, set in the heart of Ghana, be written as broken English?

This continues in the latter part of the book as well, once Belinda is back in Daban. The only noticeable difference is that her dialogues are posher, and she uses the word ‘like’ a lot (like most of us millennials are wont to do) — but I’m still flummoxed, bc all these dialogues, right from the ones with the cab driver to the ones with the hair dresser are all in Twi, right?

Another reviewer had mentioned the same thing (either on Goodreads or on Netgalley), about how the book feels like it was edited for a white audience. I agree with them wholeheartedly on this. As a POC and a WOC myself, I could understand what the other reviewer meant,

I think this book could have legendary if it had been edited properly, and if Donkor had maintained grammatically correct prose for a non-English speaker’s POV. This book was in many ways feminist, and addressed unsettling issues, and could have easily been a magnificent debut, considering it had a really good plot and structured character development.

I think given time and more independence in the editorial process, Donkor will write a novel that’ll be a 5 star read. Sadly, this wasn’t it, but I can see that potential in him as a writer. I hope he continues writing stories as deep and truly eye opening as this one.

Diclaimer: I got this book from the publisher via Netgalley free of cost, I’m exchange for my honest review. Thank you for giving me a chance to read this book.

Safiya

Rating: really liked it
I enjoyed reading this book. It’s not earth-shattering and there really aren’t any tense highs (or lows), but to be honest, I’m starting to enjoy this kind of book a lot more than the other kind.

I enjoyed the technically similar, but conflicting characters of Belinda and Amma; two young women of a similar age, from (in some ways) the same place with completely different experiences, thoughts and ways of moving through life. I found the development of their friendship and the way they interacted (and initially danced around each other) quite realistic - no doubt a result of Donkor’s experiences as a teacher.

The main complaint I think I have is that I found the writing quite ‘crowded’, for want of a better word, like a lot more was being described as happening, than actually was. At times it felt busier, when really just a short sentence would have sufficed to describe a situation, conversation or movement. I was quite often thrown out of the story trying to simplify what exactly was happening at certain moments.

I was kind of disappointed by what felt like a non-committal ending, which I think gave the characters other than Belinda a disservice- particularly Amma. But for the most part, It was just nice to read a story of two young, black girls (and their family) predominantly from a U.K. (I.e not American) perspective, and that wasn’t explicitly about ‘The Black Experience’, suggesting that it is always only about ‘struggle’ or a singular, fixed thing.

*I received an advance copy of Hold via NetGalley in exchange for an honest and fair review*

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