Madness and Motherhood

Alice, a young Mohawk woman, seems to have everything she ever wanted. She has moved from the reservation to a posh neighborhood in Toronto with the anthropologist husband, Steve, who studies the Mohawk culture. She has a new daughter, Dawn. However, things are not perfect. She struggles to connect with Dawn. Partly this may be do to the guilt she feels toward her own recently deceased mother. The neighbors are not openly friendly, in fact some are racist. She is also experiencing disorienting situations. She’s hearing voices and connecting with Pocahontas, who started coming to her as a teenager.

As Alice descends into madness, she holds to her desire to write the creation myth of Sky Woman as told to her as a child. As her madness deepens she believes she has found a portal to another time and world. In this world, she talks to her granddaughter.

I found the first half of the book very interesting and somewhat horrifying as Alice descends into madness. It was well written. I couldn’t help rooting for Alice as she faced passive aggressive behavior from racist neighbors. However, the last portion of the book was a jolt. The scifi section where she talks to her granddaughter didn’t work for me. It seemed too abrupt a change. However, I enjoyed the book. It gave an interesting glimpse of the Mohawk culture and an indigenous woman trying to integrate into a different world.

Thanks to the publisher and Net Galley for this review copy.

*Thank you to Dutton and NetGalley for an eARC in exchange for an honest review!*

'And Then She Fell' is original, dynamic, complex, and unique.

What I loved from the start was how much time we spend alone with Alice. Normally this isn't something I care for in a novel, preferring a lot of dialogue. But for this novel and what it aims to achieve, I think it aided rather than hindered. She is such a central focus as we move through what she is experiencing, from different visions and voices and perceptions in time. I was constantly wondering along with Alice what the truth is.

She's tackling motherhood as a new mom to Dawn, while grieving the loss of her own mother (and guilt from it). There's the aspect of mental health, where Alice is not connecting with her daughter, struggles with low self esteem, and can't sort out what the truth is in her experience. Such as words on bags of chips being indiscernible and talking roaches. (Plus more that I don't want to give away out of fear of spoilers). There's also the added aspect of being the only Indigenous woman in her new, rich neighborhood while her seemingly perfect white husband in a white town. She experiences racism and micro-aggressions, and gaslighting for situations that make her uncomfortable as an Indigenous woman. There's so much Alice takes on at once, just like how life truly be at times, and for her what seems to hold her together is the desire to tell her version of the Haudenosaunee Creation Story. As things persist, she also starts to believe the creation story is her key to protecting herself and Dawn. There are just layers upon layers in this novel that come together to make this story what it is.

The ending was also not something I could have ever expected, though it makes sense once we see it unfold. It is unique and riveting and unlike anything I've read before.

My only hesitation with this novel is some repetitiveness that seems to go beyond repetition found in Indigenous storytelling. I've come to appreciate that in novels about my culture, and I think there were instances here where it was useful. But I sort of felt like I was all mixed up while reading at times because it was the same train of thought we see from Alice from different scenarios, and looking back I can't piece it together cohesively with that repetition. Although, I will say, this may be a matter of opinion. For some that might just further elevate the story, but for me I felt like it was accomplished the first couple of times.

Overall, I appreciate this novel for what it is and what it accomplishes.

This is one of the best books I’ve read all year. I am so blown away right now. This is an incredible, surreal, terrifying and necessary story, and I urge everyone to read it whenever they are able. Thank you so much to Penguin Random House Dutton for reaching out to me with an e-galley!

And Then She Fell follows Alice, an indigenous woman who has moved off the reservation where she grew up, to live in Toronto with her white husband Steve and newborn daughter, Dawn. The neighborhood they live in is stifling, and feels unwelcoming to Alice. She feels utterly alone, away from all of her family and friends. But she does her best to hide this from Steve, to make herself appear as the wife that she believes he wants; a put-together woman, an aspiring writer, a good mother. All the while, Alice struggles to connect with Dawn, who seems to absolutely detest her breastmilk, and screams whenever she’s around, leading her to scathingly and violently view herself as a complete failure of a mother. While trying to cope with this new white neighborhood and the struggles of early motherhood, Alice is also trying her best to complete her newest writing project: a modern retelling of The Haudenosaunee Creation Story.

But soon, Alice starts to hear voices and see things that she knows shouldn’t be there. Or should they? What is real and what is she imagining? As the voices become louder, more sinister, she becomes more and more aware of the precarious position she is in as the only Indigenous person in her neighborhood. Who can she trust? Which parts of reality are the right ones to cling to? Which voices should she listen to? Alice becomes swept up in the feeling that something is wrong, very wrong, and knows that she has to find a way to fix it before it’s too late for her and Dawn.

This book was so unexpected. From the beginning, I was gripped for sure, but I NEVER could have guessed the direction that things took. I never would have guessed that I would have to put this down at night because I was making myself scared, but would also set an alarm to wake up early the next morning to inhale more of it before work. The one thing that I did guess correctly, is that I would be crying at some point; I absolutely lost it at the end. Tears galore, real ugly ones. This is a blistering look at motherhood, family, mental health, racism, Indigenous genocide, addiction and inherited trauma. This was surreal, mind-boggling, and absolutely gut-wrenching. Alice was an unforgettable, real, beautiful voice, one of the best main characters/narrators that I’ve read. I don’t want to give anymore away, because I think this is one you’ll want to go into without much precursor, but I will say that I know I will think about this story for a long time to come.

The questions that animate And Then She Fell are genuinely compelling: How is the way we understand mental illness a product of our cultural beliefs? How does racism erode not only a person's sense of self but also their sanity? Alice, the narrator, has just given birth, and the novel details her experience of postpartum psychosis as translated through the cultural understanding of her Mohawk ancestry and exacerbated by the racism she experiences as an Indigenous woman in a predominantly white Toronto neighborhood. Her efforts to bond with her infant daughter are complicated by the ways she feels she failed her own mother and by her husband's insistence that she eschew her family's offers of assistance in order to become a self sufficient mother.

Elliott is working with fascinating material here, and I'll keep an eye out for her future work. That said, this novel didn't work for me structurally, and I found reading it slow going. At the beginning, the novel is claustrophobically internal, comprised almost entirely of Alice's thoughts about her current situation and the events of her past that led her there. Despite her worries that she's losing her mind, Alice's understanding of systemic racism and the drug epidemic is so thorough that it feels borderline didactic. As Alice's grip on reality begins to slip, her experience of racism sharpens into something darker, and she begins to believe that everyone she knows is entangled in a plot to separate her from her daughter. This section is compelling in its exploration of the uncertain territory between truth and paranoia: Alice IS experiencing racism, but she can't separate potential allies (her cousin and aunt) from adversaries (her husband, who doesn't believe her, his colleagues, etc.). Rather than tracing this spiral to its conclusion, though, the novel jumps to another perspective entirely, and we shift from psychological horror to something closer to science fiction. Other readers might be able to make this jump more seamlessly than me, but the lack of structural coherence detracted from my enjoyment of the novel.

Motherhood brings about a big adjustment for any woman. But for a young Mohawk mother who finds herself completely out of her element in And Then She Fell by author Alicia Elliott, the challenges and adjustments cause years of pain and guilt and trauma to start spiraling out of control.

Full review published on NightsAndWeekends.com and aired on Shelf Discovery

And Then She Fell by Alicia Elliott was such a captivating, deep and utterly amazing story! Elliott write an incredible debut!
Everything about this mystery novel was done so well.
The writing is spectacular. With it’s complex characters. An intense story
Alice’s journey is an thought-provoking one.
A unique look at motherhood. This crazy genre-bending novel will surely keep you so intrigued.

"I received a complimentary copy of this book. Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own."

Thank You NetGalley and Dutton for your generosity and gifting me a copy of this amazing eARC!

Be prepared to open your mind and heart. This is a wild novel.
Alice is a Mohawk girl living on a reservation, and her close knit family has no shortage of sadness, struggles and mental health issues. Teenage Alice is plagued by voices, Disney's Pocahontas comes out of the tv to warn her about a boy she wants to hook up with, trees and clouds speak to her, and she relies on drugs and alcohol to quiet the chaos in her mind. Alice falls in love with a white scholar, leaves her home to start a family and have what she thinks will be the perfect life. She is even writing a novel of her peoples Creation Story told in her own way. After her daughter is born though, post partum depression sends her back into intense hallucinations and paranoia.
The second half of this book takes quite the turn and we must all question what is real. A talking cockroach might just save the day (stay with me here) when she heads for a portal to find the answers to save both her, and the loudest voice of all, The Shape.

Thank you NetGalley and Penguin Books for this ARC!

I admired this more than I enjoyed it- and frankly I struggled with it as well. Alice, a Mohawk Indian who does not speak her language, has married Steve who is white- and who is learning Mohawk-moved to Toronto where she feels very out of place and now she's got baby Dawn. She's had visions (hallucinations?) since Pocohantas spoke to her from the television when she was a teen. Alice's life, both her reality and her hallucinations, are interspersed with the tale of Sky Woman she's trying to write. Other voices have chimed in at different periods. Dawn won't latch, Steve doesn't understand, and there's a cockroach in the bathroom. Her post partum mental health issue is severe, so much so that she goes into a portal of sorts where she talks to her granddaughter (or vice versa). I found this quite confusing (who's who?) Elliott has important things to say about how caucasians view and treat indigenous peoples as well as about mental health. Her writing is gorgeous. Thanks to the publisher for the ARC. For fans of literary fiction.

At first I was worried that this might just be a weird idea that the author wasn’t really executing properly, like maybe it sounded fun as a concept but was starting off a bit shaky on the page. (Specifically, during the early scene when Pocahontas is talking to Alice through the TV, the dialogue felt off in more ways than one.) However, the more I read the more I got into the story. Some readers may take it as a plot that can be determined one of two ways: "Is the protagonist mentally collapsing, or are her hallucinations real?" Personally, I thought it was a strong portrayal of a woman's descent into madness, and an upsetting case of mental illness and Postpartum Depression that was left untreated until it completely tore her mind apart. But again, it is somewhat open to interpretation. There are both strong, visceral horror elements in this and quirky, magical realism moments.

What works well throughout the story is how stressful and claustrophobic the narration is. Alice's thought process is increasingly paranoid and worrisome as her condition worsens. You take the frightening journey with her, and the sense of dread is palpable because you know that things are likely to end badly. I was 100% on Alice’s side and felt her frustration during all of it, but she also did a couple of things that had me shaking my head. She wasn't perfect, but it definitely added to the stress. (And holy shit, there's a scene involving a neighbor harassing her that's so realistic and maddening and I felt SO bad for her.)

This was feeling like a solid four star book until I got to the last 20% and the tone switched from horror to sci-fi/fantasy. It was jarring and the ending didn't really work for me personally. It felt like a completely different novel. I liked the experience up until that point. It was harrowing, upsetting and a stark portrayal of the world we live in. This story did make me feel for new mothers that are struggling with Postpartum, and not only that but Alice is also dealing with living in a racist neighborhood with a white husband that isn't exactly listening to her concerns. The action, while a tiny bit confusing at times, is a great example of building tension and allowing you to see the thought process of a person who thinks everyone in her life is against her. I think this author is talented and I would definitely read her again! 3.5 stars for this one.

TW: Postpartum Depression, Substance abuse, suicide, Racism, gaslighting, imagery of infant harm

Alice’s voice is really strong, and the novel as a whole is both propulsive and claustrophobic. The atmosphere and sense of instability adds a lot here. The final sequence was gorgeous. I love when horror is used to engage social conversations, and this one definitely delivers on that front - it’s a very clear (sometimes perhaps overly didactic) exploration of how the structure of colonialism interacts with other experiences like motherhood, mental illness, and grief. The other characters were comparatively underdeveloped. This makes sense to an extent because we are very much in Alice’s head, but I craved more complexity. A good but imperfect read for me. I’m always interested in what Alicia Elliott is up to and look forward to continuing to read her work.

The first two thirds--wow--a native American woman married to a white man struggling with a new baby and a husband who does not understand (or pretends not to understand) the slights and insults she receives in their all-white affluent neighborhood and from his academic associates. She begins having visions and becomes obsessed with a need to write the story of her people. But then as her mental illness worsens--her narrative is suddenly cut off and we are in the story of her grand-daughter which is where the book lost me and I was just reading to get through it.

OH MY FRIGGIN FRICK. This was one of my most anticipated reads of 2023, and the Queen herself, Alicia Elliott, sure did commit and follow through. I am beyond thankful to our lovely author, Dutton Books, and Netgalley, for granting me advanced digital access and a physical finished copy before this horrifying/mind-bending indigenous narrative hits shelves on September 26, 2023.

Alice has been connected with the spirit world, or another world, since she was young, hearing bites of life-changing advice from Moatka, birch trees, and even within the wind. Flash forward to her early adult years as a new and young mother, married to Steve, her white savior; her post-partum behaviors are masked as psychosis.

Cast away from the rez with her non-native husband and into his academic world, she's ostracized by his friends and co-workers and racially prejudiced and discriminated against by her neighbors and those in her proximity... As if the pressures of being a new mother weren't complicated enough, Dawn, her newborn daughter, rejects her breastmilk and seems to light up with rage as she's in her mother's arms.

All this and more open up a can of generational trauma for our MC as she recollects both her parents' struggles on the rez and in their mental capacities. This tale is a mind-bending dystopian twister that will leave readers wondering which timeline is correct and if time is a construct or a figment of one's own understanding.

This was an easy five stars for me and a quickie that I COULD NOT PUT DOWN.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t think I’m smart enough to know what was happening in this book a lot of the time. I kept rereading paragraphs and my brain couldn’t figure it out. However, the parts I did understand were good. I thought it was an interesting story on trauma in many aspects including but not limited to racism in many ways towards Indigenous women, postpartum depression, and mental illness .. with hints of magical realism, it’s a unique story. I think it was incorrectly categorized as “horror” though.

There are so few books about postpartum psychosis, and this one tackles it in such an interesting way. I loved how the author used several techniques to weave Mohawk history and lore throughout the story, and really enjoyed trying to navigate what was actually happening to Alice versus the stories she told herself. Also, I cried at the end.

I received an ARC of this novel from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

A young indigenous woman struggles with her decision to marry a white man and leave her reservation and her people.

5 stars

It's the end of August, and this is my favorite book of 2023 so far.

Alice, the m.c., is so, so many things, though one identity that may stand out is that she is a new mom. Motherhood is the impetus for her to evaluate, and in some cases reevaluate, what have been consistent feelings and concerns for her for a long, long time, but both readers and Alice come to understand that it's not motherhood that's causing so much distress, confusion, and at times delusion.

For me, this is a work of absolute genius. Elliott pulls in ideal pop culture references to highlight the racism and misogyny embedded in modern culture and reveals a dark underbelly that for most readers will be completely unknown to them on a personal level but is - for Alice - a regular part of her daily life. Readers have the closest view of Alice's mind, and the unreliability of her narration and perception, the constant trauma she experiences, and the claustrophobic nature of being surrounded by a whole society that roots against you in every way are all literally breathtaking. And the ending? I have no words.

One of my favorite parts of this read was having almost no information about it upon entry. The discovery process is gutting and - from an aesthetic standpoint - utterly rewarding. This is fresh, horrifying, and thought-provoking. I expect that mainstream readers may find this too challenging, too bizarre, or too (in some cases) academic (hilarious when paired with Alice's thoughts on exactly this point), but I absolutely loved it and know I'll be thinking about it and recommending it mindfully for a very long time. An absolute masterpiece.

This is a beautifully written, genre-blending novel - it’s a psychological thriller and literary horror as much as it is a contemporary fiction with cutting social commentary. As you read, you see the truth in Alice’s mistrust of those around her due to the racism and gaslighting she experiences, and at the same time, you wonder if she’s a reliable narrator as her vivid imagination combined with postpartum depression cause her to see and hear things that aren’t there (or are they?). Elliott’s storytelling is complex, witty, and original. I’ll be thinking about this book for a long time.

This ARC was provided by the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you!

Wow, what a story! I think this was super interesting, diverse and the writing was immersive. The way the story progressed was impressive and surprising. I'm excited to read more by the author and will be reccomending this one.

Alice is a new mother, and she's doing her best. Only, she feels that her best is nowhere near good enough, and that her baby girl and husband both resent her presence in their lives. She's still trying to cope with the grief of losing her mother, and she hasn't been able to write anything to further her passion project, a new retelling of the Haudenosaunee creation myth. Alice, despairing, starts to hear voices she hasn't heard since she was a girl, and they're warning her to get out. Take Dawn and get out, before it's too late. But what can she do? Who is she without this life she's worked so hard to secure?

Read this if you:
🐢 have any interest in Indigenous communities and their stories
🪳 love psychological horror with a spark of cheekiness
🌈 desperately want to understand and combat systemic prejudice

Oh, this book. It's perfect. With tears streaming down my face, I flipped the last page of this story and turned to my bewildered husband to accusatorially ask him what it's like to be a straight white man with no mental health issues. Poor guy. Don't worry, he took it well, he's used to me. Alice is a character I won't soon forget, and her story is impactful on multiple levels. She's a Mohawk woman living in a white community, AND she's struggling with her mental health, so the hits just keep on coming for our girl.

I always stumble when reviewing books I love the most, because it's so difficult to put into words the myriad of emotions I felt while reading. And Then She Fell is, according to its genre classification, a horror novel — and it is, in the classical sense, but it's horrific in other ways too. There is a ton of rage in here about being a woman, being Indigenous, and being oppressed in one way or another. It is an absolutely perfect combination, and I loved it more than I can express.

The last few lines of this book absolutely broke me. I hope you will give this story a read, and I hope that you love it as much as I do. Thank you to Alicia Elliott, Dutton Books, and NetGalley for my advance digital copy.

Is there anything so delicious and satisfying as when a book that you like turns into a book that you absolutely love?! The last 15% of this novel blew me away, so much so that I'm now feverishly recommending it.

AND THEN SHE FELL focuses on Alice, a young Mohawk mother grieving the loss of her own mom, trying to connect with and care for her newborn, attempting to navigate her new life as the wife of a white academic, fighting to write the novel she's certain needs to be told, and struggling to make sense of the increasingly dark voices in her head that tell her she's incapable of achieving any of those goals. It's impossible not to sympathize with Alice, who feels completely torn by her decision to move to Toronto with her new husband (and abandon her friends and family on the rez) (but provide a more secure life for her daughter). Her identity as a Native woman is a deep source of pride but also a liability--as her husband's colleagues ask her to pontificate on the status of MMIW, strangers question whether or not she really lives in such a nice neighborhood, and a 'well-meaning' neighbor drops off a DVD of Pocahontas as a 'treat' for her daughter. Her husband's proximity to her indigeneity, however, is a huge asset--he proudly shows her off at department dinners, mines her family for fodder for his academic articles (with attribution and compensation, of course!!!), and gains access to Mohawk language classes that will boost his chances for tenure. He does all this with a nice, votes-liberal smile, while Alice feels acutely aware of the degree to which she is not fluent in Ohswé:ken (a direct result of colonial interference) and how tenuous her ability to retain and pass on her people's stories and traditions is. Elliott does a remarkable job of toeing the line, leaving the reader uncertain if Alice's postpartum depression / psychosis is completely to blame for her increasing paranoia, or if her husband and white neighbors are surveilling and gaslighting her as much as she thinks they are.

And then -- and THEN! Just as Alice's distress comes to a fever pitch, the novel makes a sharp left turn and unspools into a beautiful, imaginative, breathtakingly surreal dreamscape that left me reading through tears. Elliott knits together a thousand threads in just a few pages, and I felt the strong need to start from the beginning again and again and again. An incredible debut!