As laconically seductive as the 1920’s which so inspire its heroine, Lote is a tantalising work of black, queer, speculative fiction. Appropriately genre-bending in its style, it combines the page-turning appeal of an investigative thriller, with the nonchalant grace of a period piece set in the modern day.
Like Europeans in a Henry James, we would be creatures of genteel penury, full of education, artifice, a little vampiric, duping all the dull rich people around us. Except we were Black, except were poor, except we were basically self-taught (by their standards), except we were infinitely more subtle and fabulous, as far as we were concerned.
Mathilda is an escape artist. She has many names and specialises in her own reinvention in the pursuit of a life of beauty and glamour. An ‘Arcadian’, she is much more interested in the past than the present, and spellbound by her ‘fixations’—flashes of inspiration connecting her to figures from the past—she gets herself accepted onto a prestigious, if strange and secretive, residency in order to continue her ‘research’ into their lives.
Dripping with baroque prose, charming characters, and historical references to forgotten Black modernist figures, the book is as decadent as a goblet of foamy pink champagne in a dining hall draped in candlelight. It absolutely delights in its own opulence, channeling all the energy and frivolity of the Bright Young Things, to waltz you through a mystery that asks whether certain historical truths are forgotten, or mislaid, on purpose.
LOTE, is Scottish author, Shola von Reinhold‘s debut novel, and won the Republic of Consciousness Prize and the James Tait Memorial Prize in 2021. If you’ve already read it, let me know what you thought in the comments, and as always, don’t forget to sign up for future blog updates.
Buy on kindle £3.99
Paperback from World of Books £7.90
Follow the author @socialmedea__
Want more book recommendations? Follow me on twitter @SLangridgeUK for updates on what I’m reading.
Check me out on TikTok @theyrhymesometime
An intimate work of feminist realism that doesn’t pull its punches. Told in the form of letters from its middle-aged, female narrator, M, it considers the terrible savagery of the human ego, and the atrocities it commits against itself and those it is closest to.