The Year of the Ladybird

There’s something about seeing things on a hot summer’s day on the beach that makes it more sinister. However I don’t think the fact the cover says it’s a ghost story needs to be taken literally. Maybe David did see a ghost, or maybe his mind is playing tricks on him as his suppressed memories try to break through.

Graham Joyce’s writing is so evocative, you can practically feel the oppressive heat of the holiday camp. The place is starting to fray around the edges, both in the physical sense and in the tired acts that no longer appeal to the young. It’s like a time warp. It’s strange to think the seaside camps were starting to fade back in the 70s considering they’ve managed to cling on and stay in business even now.

The plague of ladybirds is only a small part of the book. In fact it’s been released under the title The Ghost in the Electric Blue Suit in the US (although that might be because they don’t know what ladybirds are). The plague did actually happens and 1976 is known as the year of the ladybird. So it’s about David experiences of that year, where reality became surreal.

If you’re looking for horror or a ghost story, you may be disappointed, but the writing is superb and it’s a wonderful peek into a different time and place. From the simple pleasures of a British seaside holiday to the uncomfortable presence of the National Front, gaining force amongst the working classes in the north, who felt immigrants were to blame for their hardships.

I have been hanging out for The Year of the Ladybird since I heard Graham Joyce taking about it on an episode of the Coode Street Podcast (Episode 171). Since that episode aired over a year ago I have been collecting Graham Joyce books whenever I have the chance. Now, being a reviewer, lots of the books that I buy for myself end up on the “personal” to be read pile rather than the “reviewing” to be read pile. Consequently I haven’t read any Graham Joyce but The Year of the Ladybird. I did start on Some Kind of Fairy Tale but felt myself falling into the book and had other work calling me.

The Year of the Ladybird was purchased as part of a leaving gift from my job as a Librarian and as such I decided to splurge and get the hardback edition in all its orange/red glory. So was it money well spent by my colleagues?

In short, yes.

While I didn’t find The Year of the Ladybird nearly as captivating as the first few pages of Some Kind of Fairy Tale, Joyce has that rare talent for captivating and engaging storytelling. I didn’t feel an overt emotional connection with the characters. Some authors (Daniells, Wilkins, Lanagan) are excellent at the ability to toy with reader emotion. I felt Joyce a little more tempered in this story, sure there’s one particular scene where the protagonist David isn’t sure if he’s involved in some sort of serious criminal activity but for the most part I think that this book’s strength was the recreation of time and place for the reader.

The Year of the Ladybird is set in the mid seventies, in a time of political turmoil with the rise of neo-fascism in England. It’s summer and England is in the midst of a drought. The protagonist David Barwise has returned to the seaside town of Skegness to work at a holiday camp. Away from home and the life his mother and stepfather want for him, David sets about enjoying the freedom of growing into a young man. His choice of Skegness is not random though, he was brought there by his father while still a young boy and much of the novel is David picking away at the obscured memories of this time. David keeps seeing an apparition of a man in a blue suit accompanied by a small boy. The reader is not sure if these visions are the results of the pressure of new experiences or the pressure of being involved with unsavoury and violent characters.

I think Joyce captured the uncertainty of youth, a nostalgia for the past and the drive in all of us to uncover unknown or obscured history. He has a very light touch and I devoured this within two sittings without realising I was thoroughly immersed. By which I mean it was good. A book that settled around me while I wasn’t watching and led me gently to its conclusion.