It's interesting how our reading tastes change when we get older. In my 20s I found books focusing on women's experiences and family sagas boring, but in my 40s I am drawn to these narratives. Science fiction of this sort can also be difficult to read because a lot of it is happening right now, nothing futuristic about it, and reality is depressing enough. But I found this book beautiful and impactful.

Set in a near-future New Zealand, with vibes of The Rabbit Hutch and The Dream Hotel, this is near-future climate fiction told from the point of view of the swamp that has seen it all through the eons. I loved the perspective of an indigenous New Zealand author writing about climate issues. This is a voice I don't see represented enough. Initially I was also drawn to that gorgeous cover.

The book follows the lives of three neighbor women, whose lives are upset by the arrivals of climate refugee Sera and her young family, and a bigoted white woman's son, Conor, an incel who has been radicalized by white supremacists. Keri, the other neighbor woman, is a single mother raising a toddler and an eccentric teenage daughter with an ability of radical empathy. I was a bit confused about how Wai's magic actually worked, but it allowed her to step inside the consciousness of other beings and feel what they were feeling. The subtle magical realism element brought a special dimension to the narrative.

I liked how the book described very well the desperation and stripping of dignity that being on welfare can involve, and the intersection of that with the refugee experience. Sera's experience of extreme heatwaves and flooding is coming and sometimes even here. It was sobering to think of a planet where soon there will be nowhere left to run to. The white characters could at times seem flat and stereotypical, but I appreciated Janet's transformation to being more self aware.

I found it sobering and also beautiful how most of the book was dealing with very normal, everyday struggles of getting along with neighbors, walking to the beach and paying bills when the world was falling apart. I can relate to the jarring contrast while crises are happening. At times it got a little tedious as it went into the weeds on family history and daily family life, but I appreciated the character driven arc of this story.

I also loved the book being told from the point of view of Swamp Mother. I thought that was a clever angle and creative perspective.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for the advance review copy. I am leaving this review voluntarily.

Thanks for the advance read. I enjoyed the story and always enjoy a new author. Good luck with the book

A slow meditation on how we live today and how we navigate our place in the world. Sometimes a bit slow but an interesting book. Loved the New Zealand setting and the intertwined stories.

Thanks to HarperVia and NetGalley for this ARC of 'The Mires' by Tina Makereti.

I'll admit to the fact that it took several attempts for me to engage with this novel, I started and put it down a few times before making it beyond the first 20 or so pages but I'm glad I did.

Set in the very near and completely recognizable future, this is a story of humanity, dealing with otherness, set against the background of devastating and ongoing climate change and its consequences and its use by right wing terrorists in their justification of acts of murder and unrest.

We have three families of disparate, living cheek-by-jowl in a row of town houses in a New Zealand community. A young single mother of two children who's Maori, an innately (though she would deny it) racist older white woman and her deeply racist and misogynistic son, and a brown-skinned immigrant family - whose exact ethnicity is not explained - who were relocated via English 'refugee camps' from climate devastation in the northern hemisphere.

There's an element of the spiritual/supernatural in the guise of Wai, who is the daughter of Keri, the Maori woman. She connects with nature (the mires - or swamp - of the book's title) in a way that others can or do not and that forms a thread and leads to an important climax later in the book.

The author has included a lot of big themes - human-driven climate change, immigration, indigenous abuse and rights, white supremacy, misogyny and the manosphere, institutional malaise, and others. There's a danger that with trying to wrangle all of that, the characters might suffer but I feel that we get a good account of everyone from the youngest children to the oldest characters. I'd have liked a little more depth on the background of Sera, Adam, and Mia, but I suspect that was left deliberately vague - an everyman of the coming (or present?) climate crisis. We watch as these families and individuals revolve around each other and, although there are many dark elements in their relationships and the world around them, I found this to be a novel of mainly positives. People learnt, people adjusted, and came to know more as a result.

As I said, I'm glad I stuck with this.

The Mires is set in a coastal town in Aotearoa, New Zealand, and follows the lives of three women—mothers, neighbors, and individuals shaped by vastly different backgrounds.

Keri is a Māori single mother raising two children: Walty and Wairere. Wairere, the oldest of the two, has a rare gift—an ability to connect deeply with the wetlands that surround their home. She comes from a long line of Indigenous people and carries both a fierce anger and an ancient wisdom her mother can’t fully understand.

Janet, a white woman of European descent, initially comes across as a bit of a “Karen”—awkward and unsettling in her attempts to connect. Then there’s Sera, a climate refugee who has escaped a fire-ravaged homeland with her husband Adam and their daughter Aliana. Aliana quickly bonds with Walty, and a genuine friendship also blossoms between Samira and Keri.

Though problematic in some ways, Janet does try to connect with her neighbors. But the real tension arrives with her adult son, Conor, who shows up unexpectedly and seems radically changed. He has a new buzz cut, is tattooed and obsessively fit, and works strange hours in a job that involves livestreaming violent video games while narrating his gameplay. Janet senses something is deeply off, but can’t quite put her finger on it.

Wairere, however, can. She recognizes Conor as a pollutant—something dangerous to the balance of their lives and land. She confides in her mother about what she senses, unsure of how to confront or neutralize the growing threat he represents.

What makes The Mires especially powerful is how intimately we come to know each woman: their fears, their histories, and the hopes they hold for their children. Wairere’s connection to the land adds a lyrical, almost mythical layer to the story—reminding us of the deep relationships some people have with nature and place.

The novel skillfully weaves together themes of family, climate change, displacement, toxic masculinity, extremism, class, xenophobia, and the quiet power of resistance and transformation.

My only critique is that some sections felt overly descriptive and repetitive. At times, I found myself skimming through long paragraphs that didn’t seem to add much to the narrative. Hopefully these moments are tightened up in the final print version.

Overall, The Mires is a thoughtful, layered, and timely read that left an impression.

This was really interesting, but I think some characters deserved more development, especially Sera and her family. Overall, it felt too good to be true.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for an e-arc in exchange for an honest review.

4/5 - This was a slow and enjoyable read for me.

The point of view of The Swamp was uniquely interesting. It worked to the book's benefit to enhance the reader's sense of being an active observer in the characters' lives. It connects us to everything, and all of the characters to each other. There is a rich history involved in the story, but unfortunately, I read this without an internet connection, so there were terms and stories I had to gloss over, guess through context, or resign myself to not knowing (since I couldn't look things up until later).

The writing was intentional and descriptive, which made for a dense yet enjoyable read. There were some large chunks of page-long text in the beginning that put me off, but then things started flowing much better throughout the rest of the book.

The characters were real, complex people with complicated stories, wants, and needs. By the end, it was as if they were all meant to be in each other's lives in fated ways. It served the themes of the book in that we have more in common than we have in difference, and that things have a way of working themselves out and finding a balance.

Wairere's abilities in particular reflect the emotional relationship we have with the world and with people, which can be overwhelming at times. We want to see the best in each other, but sometimes have to come to terms with those who would do us and those we love harm. We want to protect each other, but don't always know how. That can overwhelm us, or we can reach out to each other, try to connect with each other, and help out (This is what I personally took from the book).

*Disclaimer: I received a free advanced reader's copy of this book through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for this opportunity!

In a small coastal New Zealand town, three women and their families' lives intertwine, blending domestic drama, suspense, and indigenous folklore. Keri, Janet, and Sera navigate their unique relationships, while Wairere, a teenager with extraordinary gifts, must confront her true self to bridge the growing divides between their households, all against the backdrop of increasing extremism.

Tina Makereti’s novel “The Mires” offers a gripping portrayal of the lives of three families in New Zealand. The story weaves their experiences together into a compelling narrative that reflects the current state of the world.

Among the families, one has indigenous roots, another is of European descent, and the third is a climate change refugee. The novel has been aptly described as a blend of "Little Fires Everywhere" and "The Island of Missing Trees."

Makereti explores life's daily struggles—both big and small—faced by these three families. The narrative incorporates Māori folklore, complex family dynamics, past domestic disputes, toxic masculinity, xenophobia, class issues, and more. The mires, or wetlands, are featured prominently and function as characters in their own right, revealing glimpses of the past lives that have existed on the land and the secrets known and unknown.

Although "The Mires" addresses challenging realities, it also emphasizes the positive aspects of change and humanity. I highly recommend this novel; it is suspenseful, beautifully written, and ultimately leans toward hope. Thank you to NetGalley and HarperVia for providing this thoughtful ARC.