Neve is a writer who lives with an older man named Edwyn. Their life together is not exactly loving—more of a co-existence of mutual tolerance. Neve is pragmatic. For much of her life she's been doing what she must in order to survive, and one of the things she must do is put up with Edwyn’s neurotic episodes. They do “cuddle,” and from time to time enjoy one another’s company. But as if a switch has been flicked, Edwyn turns on her with paranoid, often nonsensical accusations (for instance, he claims she is out to “annihilate” him), and shrill, belittling insults. His problem seems to be with women in general: he sits in front of the television and spews similarly irrational complaints at female screen characters. Neve’s voice as she tries to talk him down from his mounting rage is calm and measured, but also ineffective. Their life together consists of cheerful periods of intimacy followed by days of icy, combative silence, times during which Neve questions her own sanity for staying with him. The narrative also delves into Neve’s past, her family life with a bullying father and an emotionally disengaged mother. Gwendoline Riley deliberately holds her reader at a distance: the novel is tersely written in clipped prose that generates almost unbearable tension. We observe Neve going through her days, but we never get close to her, never get the opportunity to really understand what makes her tick. But the novel fascinates for precisely this reason. Though it’s her story and she’s narrating, Neve remains elusive: indistinct and unknowable. Reading the book is like following someone through zigzagging streets, someone who keeps to the shadows, who, just as we catch a glimpse of her, slips out of sight, and who remains—constantly, tantalizingly—out of reach.

In First Love, Gwendolin Riley’s brilliant, disturbing fifth novel, she presents a marriage as a minefield or toxic warzone, seething with hazard, a place where there are no winners, only losers. ( )

I loved this book. The interactions between the characters were riveting, like being unable to turn away from a car wreck. OK, I was confused about the time shifts, but to me that didn't matter. I took each scene on its merits - there wasn't really any plot to fit them into anyway. I would love to read more of her work. ( )

I did not like this as well as My Phantoms, although it was shortlisted for an award. The narrative was rather chaotic. ( )

Neve and Edwyn - what in heavens name are they doing together? Why are they married? What is the point of the torture they inflict on each other? As Neve looks back on her life in a desultory fashion it becomes both clear (and yet still mystifying) that deep forces of personal history are at work here. Or maybe she’s just in hell. I don’t know.

There is something relentless about Gwendoline Riley’s characters, their insistent cruelty, and baffling willingness to have cruelty inflicted upon themselves. I want to chalk this up to just a case of unhappy families. But this time I found it sort of pointless. There didn’t seem to be any growth in the characters. And moments when they were not harming each other were just as inexplicable to me as moments when they were. That said, Riley’s writing — the sentences themselves — are compelling. I was often surprised by turns of phrase, oblique observations, Neve’s sad mother. But increasingly I found myself wondering what I was getting out of the process.

Only very gently recommended, but confident that there are better things to come from Riley. ( )

I enjoyed the book and disagree with most of the takes I'm seeing in the few reviews here. I don't think the book is about her relationship with the husband, per se, rather it's a look at the abusive relationships she has found herself in and a character study of her mother. The book asks a lot of questions and doesn't give many answers, besides the obvious ones. In this way, it is like life: there are no tidy or linear narratives, besides the ones we tell ourselves. I found the mother character particularly interesting, and I am not usually a fan of "mother characters". I usually don't like when authors put an ironic distance between the protagonist and other characters, but here I enjoyed it. Is she herself headed down the same path as the Mother? Is she attracted to self-harm and abusive relationships because of her Father? Yes and yes, but nothing is ever really that straight forward. My only critique is that I think it could have been longer. ( )