Today is the (long awaited, in my view) UK release day of what is undoubtedly one of the best books I read last year. Hannah Kent’s Devotion is a gorgeous historical tale, that spans lives and loves. If you’ve never read one of her works before, this is the perfect place to start. But if you’re somehow not convinced by the blurb alone, you can find my review for it in this post.
And you should also go ahead and follow Hannah on twitter and instagram!
1836, Prussia. Hanne is nearly fifteen and the domestic world of womanhood is quickly closing in on her. A child of nature, she yearns instead for the rush of the river, the wind dancing around her. Hanne finds little comfort in the local girls and friendship doesn’t come easily, until she meets Thea and she finds in her a kindred spirit and finally, acceptance.
Hanne’s family are Old Lutherans, and in her small village hushed worship is done secretly – this is a community under threat. But when they are granted safe passage to Australia, the community rejoices: at last a place they can pray without fear, a permanent home. Freedom.
It’s a promise of freedom that will have devastating consequences for Hanne and Thea, but, on that long and brutal journey, their bond proves too strong for even nature to break . . .
Devotion
Hannah Kent
Rep: lesbian mc, lesbian li
Release: 3rd February 2022
Ever since I read The Good People, way back in 2017, I’ve been anticipating Hannah Kent’s next release. And, while Burial Rites remains one of my all time favourites, I think it’s been pipped to the post as my favourite Hannah Kent by Devotion.
I think I knew that Devotion would be a five-star read for me from the first page. Hannah Kent’s writing is absolutely incomparable; for me, there’s no one better. In fact, everyone else should just quit now because they’ll never be able to reach her standard. (Any authors reading this, I am kidding. Mostly.) It’s the kind of writing that reaches inside you, rummages about for a bit, and comes out clutching your heart in its hands. Each sentence gently ripped me to shreds, put me back together again, and then repeated the process. I fully believe I’ll never read another book like this.
Part of that magic is in the way it evokes 1800s Prussia, the journey across the sea, and Australia, a foreign, and somewhat unfriendly, land to the characters of the book. The setting jumps off the page, it makes you feel as though you’re there alongside the characters, experiencing all that they are. You can feel the breeze through the trees in Prussia, hear the creaking of the ship, feel the heat of Australia—it all feels incredibly real.
That extends to the characters themselves too. Even the side characters feel wholly authentic and believable. They all have distinct personalities and, by the end, you feel as though you know them all intimately. And, of course, for no one is this clearer than for the main characters—Hanne and Thea. They’re the kind of characters that stick with you for a long while after you’ve finished reading, so vibrant that they are. When I think back to this book, it’s these two characters who I’ll be thinking about.
On top of all this, these are two sapphic characters who aren’t defined by the tragedies they go through. As in, this is the kind of story that doesn’t make the characters solely about their pain. Yes, they face pain—after all, it’s a book by Hannah Kent. It was inevitable—but it’s very much in the same way as straight characters might experience that pain. If I’m making any sense whatsoever. It’s saying, look this is a bittersweet story that happens between these two people, it just so happens they’re gay. As well as this, it treats their love reverently, as something precious and beautiful, to be guarded with care.
And it is, in all, a beautiful book.
So, have I convinced you that you want to read this book?
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