A sweeping and gorgeously rendered exploration of home and yearning,
following the fracturing of a family upon the demise of its patriarch
In the early hours of June 14, 2017, the world watches as flames leap up
the sides of a residential high-rise in West London, consuming Grenfell
Tower and many of the lives it houses. Across town, a preceding spark
has caught. A cigarette left burning in an ashtray. A table strewn with
post-it reminders and old newspapers. And one Cornelius Winston
Pitt--estranged husband, complicated dad, and patriarch of the Pitt
family--who takes his final breaths alone.
These twin tragedies open Diana Evans's A House for Alice, an aching
portrait of a family of women shaken by loss and searching for closure.
At the novel's center is Alice herself, the Pitt matriarch who, after
fifty years in England, now longs to live out her final years in her
homeland of Nigeria. Her three daughters are torn on the issue of
whether she stays or goes, and while youngest sibling Melissa also
grapples with the embers of her own failed relationship, the Pitt
family's foundational pillars--of trust, love, and cultural
identity--begin to crack.
Intimately drawn and set against a fraught political backdrop, A House
for Alice traces the scars of grief and betrayal across generations,
and uncovers the secrets we keep from those closest to us.
