I found this quite a difficult but rewarding read. I was glad that the fragmented writing style of words
broken up across lines
like this
with the enter key
got a lot less frequent over the course of the book, but there were moments when I recognised that the writing was repeating itself, yet felt relieved about this as it gave me a chance to understand what was being said. This isn't criticism, just a note that this is a book that needs your full attention. 

The characters really shone in this story - Mairead and James especially captured my heart, but Lloyd

is one of the most complex and surprising villains I've read for ages, especially as I liked him until about 80% of the way through the book.

I raged at the ending both because it was quietly devastating and because I didn't see it coming, though I really, really should have done.

I'm not sure if I would have liked more or less of Masson, but something about his character and storyline didn't feel as nuanced or complex as the others. I definitely wanted more of Mairead. 

All my reviews live at https://deedispeaking.com/reads/.

TL;DR REVIEW:

The Colony is a quietly devastating, gorgeously written book about colonization and agency set on a small Irish island during the Troubles. It has lots of layers!

For you if: You like character-driven novels, plus prose that’s poetic and a bit nontraditional.

FULL REVIEW:

After a fair amount of pre-release hype, The Colony was longlisted for the 2022 Booker Prize. Having read it, I can confirm that this 100% feels like a Booker book (in a good way), and that it’s going to make for an excellent book club discussion.

The story is set on a small island off Ireland’s coast in 1979, as the Troubles raged on the mainland. The island has been somewhat sheltered from colonization, with its people still living according to their longstanding customs and speaking a traditional form of Irish. But that’s slowly changing. During this summer, two white men come to stay: an English painter named Lloyd, determined to make a name for himself painting the landscape and, eventually, its people; and a French linguist named Masson, determined to make a name for himself as the savior of their language. Throughout, we get short vignettes depicting terrible acts of violence on the mainland.

Although the plot itself is relatively quiet — simmering backdrop of violence notwithstanding — this book does and says a ton as it pertains to not only colonization and saviorism, but also agency (whose choice is it whether people need saving?). I’m particularly excited to discuss the linguist, Masson, with my book club. Without saying too much, he’s the child of a colonizer and a member of a colonized people, making his actions and motivations really fascinating.

But perhaps the most distinctive part about this book is the prose. It’s beautiful, poetic, and a little nontraditional. Magee’s decision to write this way and also not use quotation marks — especially with so many characters being bilingual — blends thought and dialogue in a way that’s effective and affecting but somehow never confusing.

I will say that I guessed how this was going to end (hoping I was wrong), but that didn’t detract from my enjoyment. Magee’s purpose here is equal parts clear and moving, and I enjoyed it quite a bit.

I picked this up on a whim from the library recommended reads shelf. The story blew me away. 

I was so angry with Masson for enacting the same type of trauma and colonization upon the island as he had experienced growing up. I felt so frustrated that he seemed so blind to it.

And when James’ paintings are left behind broke me. He deserved so much better.