THE BASS ROCK

Three women throughout history find themselves unknowingly connected through the violence enacted against them.

Steeped in grief and teeming with ghosts, Wyld’s new novel explores violence against women throughout time. The book is organized into seven sections that contain three points of view: those of Viviane, Ruth, and Sarah, who all lived near the titular Bass Rock, off the coast of Scotland. In the present day, Viviane is aimless, depressed, and on the verge of 40. Still grieving the death of her father, she finds herself having to get her grandmother’s ghost-filled house ready to be sold. In the years after World War II, Ruth—Viviane’s grandmother—is newly married, struggling to conceive, and caring for her husband’s children from his late wife. In the early 1700s, a young woman named Sarah, an accused witch, flees with a local family that has vowed to save her. With a restrained (but sustained) rage, Wyld explores the physical violence, emotional abuse, misogyny, and other harder to define aggressions women experience at the hands of men. The novel’s ambitious structure—which falters a bit during interspersed thematic vignettes—offers a kaleidoscopic portrayal of women’s suffering; certain themes, visuals, and feelings echo throughout the generations, which creates a sense of collective trauma. Wyld is particularly adept at describing the physical anticipation of danger; a sense of foreboding hangs over the novel like a shroud. At one point, while describing the realities of being a woman, Viviane’s friend Maggie says: “You know how sometimes you can smell it on a man, sometimes you just know—if he got you alone, if he had a rock….you know that thing when you feel it? Like your blood knows it.” Time and time again, Wyld artfully proves the female body knows (even if the mind won’t accept) the dangers lurking all around.

A haunting survival tale that lingers long after the last page.