“I am not a memoirist” declares Nic Wilson at the start of her new book. But we do indeed learn a lot about her life in the ensuing 13 chapters, although some details are pieced together with help from other people’s memories, since her own have been lost. This loss emerges to be a result of the trauma of living with chronic illness – not just the author’s own, but her mother’s too. The book explores how women’s health in particular can be dismissed, and how damaging internalising this has been for the author. 

The book is not written chronologically. It flits back and forth, but along the way covers the author’s childhood, adolescence, university years, her career and her experience of motherhood. Nature is a theme throughout, often in terms of how her knowledge and experience of it has helped her cope with her illness. However, it does not only feature in that way – BTO volunteers might appreciate the account of her father’s nest recording, for example. We also accompany the author on a thorough exploration of the places she’s lived, learning about their ecologies and geologies, and former residents including naturalists and poets. 

I found I had to concentrate to fully follow the scope of the book, especially in the passages that venture into poetry, and the dreamlike sequences the author uses to convey her experience of pain, anxiety and dissociation. However, I did appreciate the contrast with other nature writing, which can be very expansive, while this focuses on the intimacy with which you can get to know a place, especially when confined by young children, or bedbound by illness. I hope writing this book has been a healing process for Nic Wilson.

Reviewed by

Viola Ross-Smith