For me , this was made up of lots, and I do mean LOTS of really good bits, that never made up a whole.
Or I didnt understand how they made up the whole story.
Some beautiful scenes written, but ultimately I felt something was missing.

Due to a sudden, unexpected passing in the family a few years ago and another more recently and my subsequent (mental) health issues stemming from that, I was unable to download this book in time to review it before it was archived as I did not visit this site for several years after the bereavements. This meant I didn't read or venture onto netgalley for years as not only did it remind me of that person as they shared my passion for reading, but I also struggled to maintain interest in anything due to overwhelming depression. I was therefore unable to download this title in time and so I couldn't give a review as it wasn't successfully acquired before it was archived. The second issue that has happened with some of my other books is that I had them downloaded to one particular device and said device is now defunct, so I have no access to those books anymore, sadly.

This means I can't leave an accurate reflection of my feelings towards the book as I am unable to read it now and so I am leaving a message of explanation instead. I am now back to reading and reviewing full time as once considerable time had passed I have found that books have been helping me significantly in terms of my mindset and mental health - this was after having no interest in anything for quite a number of years after the passings. Anything requested and approved will be read and a review written and posted to Amazon (where I am a Hall of Famer & Top Reviewer), Goodreads (where I have several thousand friends and the same amount who follow my reviews) and Waterstones (or Barnes & Noble if the publisher is American based). Thank you for the opportunity and apologies for the inconvenience.

I wanted to love this novel but I found it too scattered and plotless to really hold on to anything. It's a beautiful exercise in a modern magical-realism tale and examination of family trauma (and mental illness?).

There are a lot of beautiful bits to this novel, with descriptions of ghosts, of the estate and general atmosphere of Peru. The main character Anaïs has come back to Peru to sell the family home and the past is haunting her in a way. In fact, here present and past seem to coexist and she drifts between both in a way no one else can understand.

It was angsty, surrealist, and confusing. A recommendation for fans of magical realism and those who don't mind a non-linear story.

*The Dust Never Settles* follows a newly pregnant Anaïs who travels to her ancestral house in Peru which sits above the capital city of Lima. This premise sounded fascinating so I immediately requested the ARC from Netgalley and they were kind enough to oblige me.

This book has chapters alternating first-person and third-person narratives. The chapter numbers also alternate between English and Spanish, which I thought was a clever touch. The chapters narrated by Anaïs Echeverría, the main character, are labeled in English and the chapters in which an Allende-esque narrator tells the reader about the family history are labeled in Spanish.

I much preferred the latter chapters, as I did not feel much connection with Anaïs. This is a personal thing and I'm sure her character will connect with other readers. The chapters labeled in Spanish felt very rich and great depth. I look forward to anything else Quinn writes in the future!

4.5 stars.

Highly ambitious for a debut, this is so impressive. Avoid if you are allergic to magical realism and/or non-linear narratives. Pick up if you are into 'centuries of nation's history (Peru in this case) told via one family bloodline' or 'generational trauma manifests as literal ghosts' or 'trippy, surrealist litfic, but with an actual point'. I will be back to articulate my thoughts into a proper review when my head has stopped spinning.

My thanks to Oneworld Publications and NetGalley for a review copy of this book.

The Dust Never Settles is described by the author as her ‘love letter’ to her country Peru. Opening with mythology/origin stories which tie in to the book wonderfully later, we are introduced to Anaïs Echeverría who has a Peruvian mother and English father and has been raised in Peru, though living from the past 7 years in England. Anaïs is just returning to Peru to sign off papers for the sale of her family home, the yellow house on the hill, to developers who are to demolish it and construct a block of luxury flats. But the yellow house on the hill, with its ‘bedrooms upon bedrooms’ and filled with ‘multitudes of possessions’ belonging to those of the family who lived there in the past, and lots and lost of cats, is no ordinary family home:

It was Time that crowded into the casona, rising from the mound of earth below its foundations, rolling in from the sea, passing down from the neblina that shrouded the sky above. Time accumulated, thick and insistent like the Limenean dust from all directions. The very house seemed to breathe it in, to squeeze moments, lived and not yet lived, into its walls, its floors, into its empty spaces…

The house is not merely a building but a place where the past and present seem to live side by side. And Anaïs can see and experience it all—those that have lived there in the past can communicate with her. Anaïs has returned for a seemingly simple task, yet once she returns, her deep connect with her country and with the house come comes right to the surface—from her almost visceral reaction at breathing in the air when she lands at the airport, to seeing how the traditional homes and quarters are being replaced with modern apartments—the same as in any part of the world—she begins to put off signing the papers, and live in the house. Her mind is in a hazy space seeing and experiencing the house’s past and not quite able to function as ‘normal’, almost hallucinating about herself as well. She must deal with not only the house’s and her family’s past but also her own troubled relationship with her parents, and at some level also with her English fiancé, Rupert with whom she is expecting a child.

Alongside, in alternate chapters (numbered in Spanish), we follow the story of Julia Alvarez Yupanqui, a seventeen-year-old who worked as a maid for the Echeverrías, and fell to her death from a balcony in the yellow house, only to be resurrected as a saint. Through the eyes of Santa Julia, who works small miracles for common people, we see the story of Peru—from the arrival of colonizers to slavers and slaves, immigrant workers from China and Japan to Spaniards who created a new identity for themselves (including the early Echeverrías)—from those who lost their cultures attempting to preserve what little they could in new ways to those who faced violence and exploitation in different ways, from the revolution that never turned out the way people expected it to, to the plight of the poor in the present (all these are more like snapshots than a continuously flowing narrative), we see the different facets that together form the story of Peru while also getting a look into Julia’s own story and family.

This is a complex and rather strange story with many layers. The writing is quite beautiful and in some places, also rather raw, with a narrative in which lines blur between the real and imaginary, the past and present, memory and story, ghosts and the living.

Anaïs’ narrative was the more challenging one for me. While on the one side, I could understand the issues she grappled with—of identity (particularly the Peruvian identity she seems to be losing since she is half English, the child she is expecting even more so), of her relationship with her parents (more so her mother; but also her father—neither of them seem to really care for her), and also of the changing face of Peru (this aspect—the houses losing their character and changing into concrete blocks of luxurious flats like anywhere in the world—was something I could relate to since I’m seeing this in my neighbourhood as well, though this is nowhere as old or traditional as hers). On the other was her state of mind, the constant dreamy territory in which she floats, paranoia even—not quite able to function in real world terms—which made it feel like as a reader I too was in a floaty space in which I couldn’t make sense of things and couldn’t at any point have my feet firmly on the ground. At the end too, while there are some answers, as to her story, I felt there was a note of ambiguity where one couldn’t be sure what lay ahead.

Julia’s story, even though she was a ‘ghost’ of sorts, somehow made me feel more comfortable. She too navigates between past, present and future and gives us a sense and more so, a ‘feel’ of the country—the pain, the loss, the violence, the exploitation, and frustrated dreams and also the smaller everyday troubles of bureaucracy, red tape—all of which lies underneath its surface, and also of the small threads of hope that were/are there for people to hang on to and live by.

There was a lot that I liked in the book—the writing for the most part, the use of the time–space notion (time and space as one) by the author, and the sense it gave us of the yellow house on the hill, and also the country; the broader issues like loss of culture and identity for people when colonised and loss of character for cities when they ‘modernise’ among others give one plenty to reflect on as well. I also liked how the mythological background and some of what Anaïs is experiencing and Julia’s story tied in together as well as the resolution of some aspects at the end. But somehow with this book, particularly Anaïs’ narrative as I mentioned, there is always this feeling of being unsettled, not really knowing where one is. So overall a book that was absorbing, and yet, one where one does feel a little lost as well.

4 stars.

(4.5 stars)
Anaïs Echeverría is returning to Lima to sell her ancestral home, the ‘yellow house’. But inside those walls are ghosts, who will not rest until the sins of the past are atoned for.

‘My intent was to write a novel with a Latin American soul and an English tongue’ said Karina Lickorish Quinn. And wow has she done it. This debut novel is ambitious, but incredibly executed. Circling around themes such as family, Spanish colonialism and memory, The Dust Never Settles transcends the boundary between life and death in a stylish employment of magic realism and the manifestation of ghosts who tell us stories from the past that continue to haunt the present. Brimming with Peruvian folklore, and the country’s history, this book fights for justice. Whether that is justice for the Indigenous people, brutally tortured and murdered by the Spanish. Or justice for the poor, further disadvantaged by the greed of the rich. Anaïs is a protagonist often viewed as ill, since she can see the ghosts that haunt her house but we, as readers of this magic realist text, can see them too.

One thing that is safe to say about this book is it is unexpected, with no real indication of where the plot might end up. For that reason, it is a book that requires a little concentration. I would say that it’s perfect for those who love the journey just as much as the destination. Because the journey is magical. Beautifully written in English but with that little hint of Spanish, completely abstract, incredibly descriptive and educational about Peruvian history; you never know quite what is around the corner. Loved it!

Latin American magical realism. Won't be for everyone but then what is? This is lyrical prose and a captivating chaotic story. A woman returns to the family home to sell but there are secrets and whispers in the walls. Theres lots to learn about the history and folklore of the country and region. Different but unique.
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On the one hand, reading this book I can tell it is beautifully written in terms of the prose, but on the other hand any book where it takes pages and pages and pages for a girl to fall off a balcony isn't my cup of tea. I couldn't get past the first few chapters.

Anaïs Echevarría is returning to Lima to sell her ancestral home, the notorious 'yellow house' that looms over the sprawling capital below, its history woven into the fabric of the city. But concealed within its walls are spectres from the past that demand her attention, the echoing voices of the family who lived in this grand home, and the injustices on which both the country and the house were built.

In Lima, where elapsed time coats every surface like a layer of fine dust, these ghosts will not rest until the sins of the past are atoned for. And, while Anaïs comes to terms with her history, the present threatens to overwhelm her. Pregnant, nervous and alone, what begins as an uneasy homecoming soon becomes a reckoning with secrets.
Stunning

Odd is how I would describe "The Dust Never Settles" by Karina Lickorish Quinn. Perhaps it is because I'm not familiar with South American Magical Realism. The chapters with Anais are on the whole enjoyable, however these are interspersed by chapters with the story of how Julia became Santa Julia and far too many historical characters. You certainly do get a sense of family and fear/anticipation of Anais's pending birth but the rest of the story is odd.