Enter at Your Own Risk: The Book of Guilt Is Impossible to Escape

I finished ‘The Book of Guilt’ feeling relieved to be out of its world. I raced through it in barely a day and a half, even though part of me wanted to stop reading. The book is claustrophobic and unsettling. It left me with a greasy aftertaste, like I’d been immersed too long in something I needed to wash off.

I put off reading Catherine Chidgey’s book for weeks even though I knew she was a great writer and I had really enjoyed earlier novels of hers (‘In a Fishbone Church’ and ‘Transformation’). The cover is creepy, the guilt-laden title uninviting, and the subject matter was outside what I’d normally choose.

But once I started, I was hooked. Most of that comes down to Vincent, the novel’s main character. His voice is fresh and clear – a steady human presence in a trapped situation. Positioned between his brothers (one naughtier and one more obedient), he feels balanced, and that decency draws both readers and other characters toward him.

Catherine Chidgey’s writing is so wonderful I barely noticed it. I was too busy believing completely in the world and the people inside it. Vincent’s gradual understanding of his situation, and the connections with allies that could help him get out, kept me turning the pages.

The big theme of the novel is hierarchies within society. After finishing the book, I went on a walk (for some fresh air!) and found myself noticing similar hierarchies in my own surroundings — who gets to enjoy an easier, more privileged life and who is trapped in a life of limitations.

This is a fast read, but not an easy one. The Book of Guilt will grip you, disturb you, and stay with you – it’s a novel I was glad to leave and am unlikely to forget. Enter at your own risk!