By Bella Bathurst
A gaggle of schoolgirls burst off with academics on a box journey to the English nation-state. They quickly observe that the close by city bargains alcohol, medicines, and intercourse, without delay tempting and terrifying. during this illicit, uncooked new global, remoted from the bigger society and its popular principles and repressions, a few develop into extra susceptible, others extra vicious. There are the just about informal day-by-day cruelties the ladies inflict on each other, the harmful fault strains in their friendships, their insecurities and little shames, the grim energy of the "most well known" lady and of the "in crowd." The sexual and social pressures which could holiday a woman emotionally or even bodily and mark her without end are freshly and chillingly saw. Many readers could be reminded of Lord of the Flies. In precise, too, the shell of civilization is paper-thin, and the looming implosion of a tiny society conjures up dread. it isn't the surprising geographical region however the untried emotional panorama those ladies needs to negotiate that proves tough and traumatic and results in a shattering end. this can be a spellbinding, haunting novel by way of an excellent younger author.
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Additional resources for Special: A Novel
Hen was awake. The beds were so thin and stiff that she couldn’t get comfortable. If she lay on her side then her shoulder hurt, if she lay on her back then the mattress jabbed at her pelvis, and if she lay on her front she ended up worrying about smothering herself with her own pillow. She’d been twisting in circles for what seemed like hours now. Outside, the sky had turned brown from the lights of some distant city. The lights seemed wistful, a suggestion of something possibly exotic. Two beds down, Izzy made a faint whistling noise through her nose and began to scratch.
Jules’s voice rose. ‘It’s wrong! ’ ‘Um . ’ ‘Our rights as people. Our rights as normal exhausted human beings who’ve just been on some stupid cross-country forced march. Just rights, for fuck’s sake . ’ Fifteen minutes later Jules’s voice, rising like the scream of a kettle, followed them downstairs, through the darkened passageways and into the rec room. As a protest, she had changed into the most impractical clothes she could ﬁnd: a 32 SPECIAL pair of trousers so tight they left red seams down her skin when she took them off and a T-shirt with ‘SAVAGE’ written across it in glitter.
Miss Naylor pushed her face up close to Jules. ‘Tchk. ’ Through the thick light of the canteen, Jules could trace the line where Miss Naylor’s foundation ended and her throat began. Why did she bother with that hideous make-up? She’d always look like roadkill, anyway. ’ Pause. ’ Through the corner of her eye, Jules could see the men at the other end of the dining room. They had their backs turned and were bent over a large archaeological site map. The men seemed oblivious to the girls in the corner.
Special: A Novel by Bella Bathurst