13 Feb Book Review: Heatstroke by Hazel Barkworth

I picked up Heatstroke because I was drawn to its promise of a dark, psychological exploration of motherhood, adolescence, and desire—all set against the backdrop of an unrelenting summer heatwave. There’s something about oppressive heat in a novel that automatically raises the stakes, making everything feel stickier, more urgent, more unbearable. And let’s be honest, when a book promises to dive into the complexities of women’s lives with a side of mystery, I’m all in. Hazel Barkworth’s debut had been on my radar for a while, and as soon as I started reading, I knew it was going to be one of those stories that makes you uncomfortable in the best way.

What’s it about?

Set during an unbearably sweltering summer, Heatstroke follows Rachel, a forty-year-old English and Drama teacher whose life is turned upside down when Lily, her fifteen-year-old daughter Mia’s best friend, goes missing. The heat is relentless, an oppressive force that mirrors the mounting tension in Rachel’s mind. At first, it seems like a teenage rebellion—a sleepover that stretched a little too long, a girl who lost track of time. But as the hours turn into days, the reality sinks in: Lily is gone.

Rachel, already grappling with the transitions of middle age, becomes increasingly obsessed with the disappearance. As a teacher, she has watched girls like Lily and Mia hover on the edge of adolescence, a liminal space between childhood and womanhood, full of recklessness and naivety. Rachel tells herself that her concern for Lily is professional, even maternal. But beneath the surface, her fascination with the girls—particularly with their youthful beauty, their careless freedoms, the way they command attention without realizing it—begins to blur the lines of what is appropriate.

She watches Mia and her friends, studies their conversations, their social media habits, the way they lounge in the sun without fear or self-consciousness. As she probes further into Lily’s disappearance, Rachel finds herself crossing lines she never expected, breaking fragile trusts and invading spaces she knows she should leave untouched. Her relationship with Mia shifts; every interaction is charged with a tension Rachel can’t name. Mia, a mirror of the girl Rachel once was, is growing up and away, and Rachel is both envious and fearful of what that means.

The investigation unfolds slowly. The police begin questioning the girls, combing through their text messages, their movements over the past few days. Mia’s behavior is erratic, shifting between desperate hope that Lily will be found and quiet, private grief. But as Rachel peels back the layers of the case, she is forced to confront uncomfortable truths—not just about Lily, but about herself.

Lily, it turns out, took more than just an overnight bag when she left. Hidden among her belongings was something that shouldn’t have been there: an intimate piece of lingerie, belonging to her mother. A detail that shifts the nature of her disappearance from a case of teenage impulsivity to something far more troubling. As Rachel wrestles with this knowledge, her fixation on the girls—their bodies, their movements, their power—intensifies. She is haunted by the things she has lost, the way desire and admiration can bleed into one another.

The novel builds toward a slow-burning revelation, one that forces Rachel to reckon with her own fears, desires, and regrets. Heatstroke isn’t just about the mystery of Lily’s disappearance; it’s about the unbearable weight of being a woman at a certain point in life, when the gaze you once commanded shifts elsewhere, when the heat of youth begins to fade and is replaced by something sharper, something more desperate.

The prose is atmospheric, thick with the weight of the summer heat and the unspoken tensions between mothers and daughters, teachers and students, women and girls. Rachel’s narrative is unreliable in the way all self-examinations are—she rationalizes, defends, denies, all while creeping ever closer to something dangerous.

As the novel reaches its climax, the lines between guilt and innocence, protection and obsession, become increasingly blurred. The truth of what happened to Lily is shocking, but equally haunting is the realization of just how fragile the boundaries between adulthood and adolescence, desire and duty, truly are.

What This Chick Thinks

Diving into Heatstroke, I was immediately struck by Barkworth’s evocative prose. The oppressive summer heat is almost a character in itself, amplifying the novel’s tension and mirroring Rachel’s internal turmoil. The writing is lush and sensory, immersing the reader in the stifling atmosphere of a summer that seems to stretch endlessly.

Rachel is a complex, multifaceted character. Her introspection and vulnerability are palpable, making her both relatable and, at times, unsettling. Her fixation on Lily’s disappearance serves as a catalyst for her to confront her own insecurities about aging, motherhood, and unfulfilled desires. This introspective journey is both compelling and discomforting, as it delves into the often unspoken complexities of a woman’s inner life.

The dynamics between Rachel, her daughter Mia, and their circle of friends are intricately portrayed. Barkworth captures the volatile nature of teenage friendships and the subtle tensions that can arise between mothers and daughters, especially as the latter begin to assert their independence. The novel deftly explores themes of envy, identity, and the often-blurred lines between protection and control.

However, some readers might find Rachel’s introspection bordering on obsessive, and her actions occasionally blur ethical lines, leading to moments of discomfort. The narrative’s deliberate pacing allows for deep character exploration but may feel slow to those seeking a more plot-driven story. Additionally, while the novel provides a resolution, it leaves certain moral ambiguities unresolved, prompting readers to grapple with their own interpretations.

Final Thoughts

Heatstroke is a thought-provoking and atmospheric novel that delves deep into the psyche of its protagonist, exploring the intricate web of emotions tied to motherhood, identity, and desire. Hazel Barkworth’s debut is both compelling and unsettling, leaving a lasting impression. I’d rate it an 8 out of 10 for its evocative writing and nuanced character exploration.

Try it if you like:

• “Notes on a Scandal” by Zoë Heller
  A gripping narrative that delves into the complexities of obsession, secrecy, and the intricate dynamics between women.
• “Little Fires Everywhere” by Celeste Ng
  An exploration of motherhood, identity, and the hidden tensions within a seemingly perfect suburban community.
• “The Virgin Suicides” by Jeffrey Eugenides
  A haunting tale that examines the enigmatic lives of five sisters through the eyes of neighborhood boys, touching on themes of adolescence, obsession, and the unknowable facets of others’ lives.