Content warning: this book and review both deal with the theme of male violence against women & girls. If you’re not in the right headspace for that analysis, please don’t feel pressured to read any further.
Earlier this year I discovered Eva Verde’s writing, and fell head-over-heels in love with her debut novel: Lives Like Mine. It’s one of the most innovative and deeply moving books I’ve ever read. As a Black biracial woman who deals with themes of identity and belonging in my own work, it meant the world to find Verde’s perspective explored masterfully through her characters’ dilemmas. And I knew right away that I was going to read everything she ever published. With In Bloom, Verde has built on the success of her debut, growing as a writer while telling a heartfelt story about love, growth, and redemption.
Delphine Tennyson has been lost since her first love Sol died in suspicious circumstances. Delph gave birth to their daughter alone – and as a grief-stricken single mother fell prey to the charms of Itsy, a man with a knack for exploiting vulnerabilities. Instead of helping Delph get back on her feet, Itsy chips away at her sense of self. And after years of making Delph’s world smaller, Itsy tries to do the same with her teen daughter. But spirited Roche has had enough of Itsy’s bullying, and moves in with Delph’s estranged mother, a renegade by the name of Moon.
Initially Delph is devastated. She’s never fully forgiven Moon for the addiction-fuelled chaos and neglect of her childhood. But Moon too had a difficult upbringing, raised by an abusive father determined to stamp out the spark in his wife and daughters. Understanding firsthand what Roche is going through, Moon becomes a refuge for her young granddaughter. And Roche becomes freshly curious about her family history, determined to break through the layers of silence to discover the truth. Delph too grows during their time apart, evaluating her own life and realising the full extent of Itsy’s abuse.
In Bloom is a remarkable story about the love between three generations of women, each with their own complex lives and inner struggles. And there isn’t a single thing I don’t completely love about this book. In terms of characterisation, plot, theme, style, and pacing, In Bloom is the full package. It’s impossible not to root for this family.
From Delphine’s first monumental, secret act of resistance against Itsy’s control in the opening chapter, she had my heart. It’s obvious from the beginning that this relationship is rapidly approaching boiling point – with Delph’s persistent thoughts of suicide and the threat of Itsy’s violence constantly looming, the stakes couldn’t be higher. Women in abusive relationships are most likely to be murdered by male partners around the time they leave and, while I spent the book desperate for Delph to escape, I was deeply afraid for her too.
That being said, while In Bloom deals with some incredibly difficult themes, Verde handles the topic of male violence with real sensitivity. And while her female characters – like countless women and girls around the world – are victimised by men, they are never defined solely as victims. These characters have personality, verve, hopes, dreams, humour… and nothing any man does to them ever stands in the way of their full humanity being recognised on the page. Which is a powerful message to send, given how harmful and cruel the media can be in framing stories about survivors, even in 2023.
Plus, Delph’s arc is one of the most uplifting stories I’ve ever read. It’s utterly delicious that at 42 years old, around the age society starts to treat women as invisible, she embarks on this glorious voyage of self-discovery. And while improving things with Roche certainly brings joy and fulfilment to Delph’s life, being a mother is only one facet of who she is. Delph reconnects with herself, processing grief and trauma, learning to live life on her own terms. She’s also shown to desire and be desired, recognised as a sexual being.
While every woman contains a multitude of truths, they haven’t always been recognised in the stories told about us – particularly mothers. And that In Bloom was picked up by a mainstream, Big Five publisher gives me hope for the future of female representation in literature.
Also, as a lesbian reader, I adored Delph’s daughter. Roche is a young lesbian, deeply in love with her best friend Eden – who isn’t ready to go public with their romance. I read tonnes of books about lesbians – these are the stories I’m most passionate about as a reader and writer, and sapphic romance is the staple of Lou’s Reviews. Yet, for all the advances we’ve made in sapphic representation, it’s still incredibly rare to pick up a traditionally published novel which shows two Black girls in love with each other. Verde handles this aspect of the book with an empathy characteristic of her writing.
However well intentioned, when white writers include Black sapphic characters, they can strip away our connection to Black culture and identity – perhaps because of how deeply entrenched homophobia can be in African & Caribbean communities. And Verde takes a more nuanced approach, acknowledging that particular truth through characters like Itsy, who calls Roche variations of “batty” (a classic Jamaican slur), and Geena, whose homophobia keeps her daughter Eden closeted. However, Verde also shows that – just like in white communities – homophobia isn’t the only story. Roche and Eden find not only acceptance, but love and respect, from other Black characters.
The girls save up to see Little Simz together; Eden does Roche’s hair; Roche reads bell hooks, James Baldwin, Maya Angelou. It’s never a case of having to choose between Black and sapphic identity – rather, the two co-exist. Not always comfortably, but that’s life. In Bloom holds more truth in its Black sapphic representation than every “colourblind” white-authored book I’ve ever read put together.
My love for Roche is by no means limited to the politics of representation. She’s utterly believable as a teenage girl just starting to get a sense of who she is, who she might become, and where she fits into the wider world. She’s passionate, smart, and socially conscious. And she’s lovable even when her trauma manifests in challenging ways – another truth often denied to female characters, especially those who are women of colour and/or working class. Roche’s curiosity and spirit make her chapters an absolute joy to read.
And then there’s Joy herself, Mother Moon. She’s perceptive, compassionate, and every bit as political as her granddaughter. She’s also – beneath the outward fire – fragile, and somewhat flaky. Though Moon has mostly got her act together, she’s still a regular passenger on the 4:20 train and prone to binges in times of stress. But even while battling her own demons she protects Roche and looks out for Delph, though Itsy has done everything in his power to undermine that connection.
While Moon certainly has her flaws, they are fully contextualised as we learn more about her story. Moon’s self-medicalisation and other trauma responses led her to traumatise Delph in turn. And I love that all three generations of women, together and apart, work to consciously resist that cycle and hold compassion for each other.
Also, though this is easily my longest review yet, it would be remiss of me not to mention the beauty of Verde’s writing. It’s alive and urgent, poetic without ever being pretentious. The term #OwnVoices is an interesting one, because publishers and critics alike can still expect people who are none of those things to write like wealthy straight white men for our work to be perceived as legitimate or literary. But Verde’s authenticity, the courage she has to write in a style entirely her own, is her greatest strength. It’s what makes her books so distinctive.
Whereas Lives Like Mine was written in the first person, pegged to Monica’s worldview, In Bloom is written in a close third person that shifts between all three protagonists. And this style works incredibly well, giving the reader an intimate view of each character while never losing sight of their connectedness – which is the lifeblood running through this narrative. The chapters are all short, every flashback driving change and action in the present, so pacing is tight throughout.
In Bloom is a spectacular read from start to soaring finish – one I can easily imagine myself returning to time and time again over the years, discovering new detail with every visit. Whether you’re into women’s fiction, romance, literary, or sagas, or domestic thrillers, this novel has something for every reader. It’s a life-affirming page turner. And Verde is one of the most exciting writers of this decade.
Copy received via NetGalley in exchange for a fair review.
Lou Morgan 