Hunger and Thirst by Claire Fuller
1987: After a childhood trauma and years in and out of the care system, sixteen-year-old Ursula finds herself with a new job delivering mail at a local art school, a bed in a halfway house, and—delightfully— some new friends, including wild-child, Sue. When Ursula is invited to join a squat at The Underwood, a mysterious house whose owners met a terrible end, she can’t resist this hodgepodge family. But as Sue’s behavior and demands become more extreme, Ursula who has always been hungry—for food—and more importantly for love, acceptance and belonging, carries out her friend’s terrible dare. And, for this, Ursula finds herself literally haunted.
Thirty-six years later, Ursula is a renowned, reclusive sculptor living under a pseudonym in London when her identity is exposed by true-crime documentary-maker, Emma Zahini who is digging into an unsolved disappearance. But it is not only the filmmaker who has discovered Ursula’s whereabouts, and as her past catches up with her present, Ursula must work out whether the monsters are within her or without.
From critically acclaimed and award-winning author, Claire Fuller, Hunger and Thirst is a compelling and chilling tale of loneliness and female friendship, of the dangerous line between wanting and needing, and of how far a person will go to truly belong.
Review: Thank you to Tin House and Zando for an ARC of this book, which comes out on June 2nd.
In the late 1980s, sixteen-year-old Ursula has a new job at a local art school and a place to sleep in a halfway house after years in the care system. She is happy to meet some new friends, including Sue, who invites her to her family's home and encourages her to move into The Underwood, a mysterious house whose owners died under terrible circumstances. The squat living situation seems like an upgrade from the halfway house, but its unnerving to Ursula from the first day. And Sue, always wild and impetuous, urges Ursula on in a series of dares that ultimately leads to Ursula being haunted. Decades later, Ursula is a renowned by reclusive sculptor, whose past is revealed by a true-crime documentary that is shedding light on an unsolved disappearance.
Claire Fuller is the master of unsettling, evocative writing and this book was no different. I was on edge and uneasy from the beginning reading Ursula's story. The Underwood is a particularly eerie setting, ripe with a haunting back story, full of the dead's belongings, and constantly filled with unearthly sounds.
There was something so tragic about Ursula's longing to belong and to be part of a family. Despite her gentle nature, her life is littered with tragedy and horror. As the novel progresses, it's unclear what is real and what is not. Is she imagining things due to her childhood trauma? Or are people failing to believe her?
Art and creation are major themes of this book. Ursula work at an art school and is fascinated seeing the work of other artists: "This student's work gave me a murky, excited feeling in my guts; that art could be created by making a mess and drawing could be a physical act using your whole body." Early on at The Underwood, she is inspired to start sculpting in the garden. Later, she finds renown as an artist, despite (because of?) her tormented past. In fact, Ursula credits this disturbing time as the inspiration for her art: "It is only hindsight that allows me to blame that murky creativity on whatever we set loose in the Underwood."
Above all, this book is haunting. The reader quite literally watches Ursula be haunted. There are so many eerie and unsettling quotes. Contemplating the ending of this book while writing this review gave me full body shivers twice. A slow build to a devastating conclusion.
My one complaint is this was a very slow build. At times I felt like I was waiting through the whole book for something to happen. There are also no definite conclusions; the book rests in ambiguity and unsurety.
Favorite quotes:
"The place smelled of damp and cigarettes smoked long ago. A person stood on my left and my hand went to my throat, and I cried out, and the person's hand went to their throat and their mouth opened."
"The sound of nails or knuckles or something else tapping. Three little beats. I stared up at the ceiling without seeing it, ready for fight or flight, body rigid, blending into the bedcover."
"I clutched my pillow to my chest and my pulse thudded through the feather as though the pillow had its own heart. At the window was a shape, contorted and unhuman, pressed against glass. 'Let me in, let me in,' it said in a low voice as it slid down the pane."
"Full of bad energy, like when it's windy outside and a storm is coming."
"When we got to the closed door of the bathroom, the colour had seeped from her face, her hand was over her stomach, and her throat was working up and down. Quiet bumps and angry buzzing came from behind the door, and I felt the cold rushing again, through my body - that something terrible would be in there."
Stars: 4
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