From Publishers Weekly
Curling backward and forward in time, Daley-Clarke's debut is less a beginning-to-end novel than an incisive set of related character studies that fugue around a tragedy. The novel's decisive moment takes place during the miserable London summer of 1976, when temperatures reach record highs, and the family of 10-year-old Geoffhurst Johnson splits apart in sudden, tragic fashion. Geoffhurst's father, a West Indian-born soccer player named Sonny, commits an out-of-character crime, leaving Geoffhurst and his sister, Susie, in the care of their aunt Harriet: Geoffhurst and Harriet narrate, with Sonny's letters from prison filling out his perspective. As the book opens, Sonny is about to be released from prison, and a college-age Geoffhurst must push past a tabloid journalist, who offers him five figures for his story, to get into his apartment. He then proceeds to tell the story in his own elliptical way. Geoffhurst charms even when he is behaving boorishly, but even though a lot of what he remembers and talks about is quite vivid, he himself remains frustratingly opaque. Harriet, more reserved, is even less accessible. Extended digressions (British minor-league soccer, voodoo, teenage gangs) are nicely done. The whole doesn't equal the sum of its parts, but British Daley-Clarke shows a great deal of promise.
(Mar.) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
From Booklist
Winner of the 2006 Commonwealth Writers' Prize for first books, this debut novel tells a wry, anguished story in several first-person, present-tense narratives about a family that comes from a small Caribbean island and struggles to find a home in 1970s Britain. The switch in viewpoint is sometimes confusing, making it hard to keep track of who's who in the detailed scenarios: from young teenager Geoffhurst, hanging with his friends in the neighborhood, to his aunt Harriet, who remembers when she and his mom came to England, and then to his father, speaking through letters from Dartmoor Prison. But the drama of separation is heartfelt, and so is the sense of dislocation, whether it concerns leaving Grandma behind or encountering prejudice against immigrants of color at school and work. It is Geoffhurst who has the lazy eye that makes him see both ways, and his funny commentary reveals sorrow and strength.
Hazel RochmanCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved