Little Gods, by Jenny Ackland

Oh what a tediously long time this novel takes to achieve nothing in particular. It has pretentions to something significant by its use of elliptical prose that frustrates rather than intrigues. It is difficult to fix the time – is it set in the 50s, 60s, 70s? It’s not until a fair way in to the story that some cultural references make it clear we are in the early 80s. This is presumably deliberate but it’s not clear what this vagueness is intended to do. After a very slow start the story builds a creepy tension to what is essentially a horror story. The main character, 12-year-old Olive, is not entirely credible. She has a precociousness combined with pre-teen naivety, which is a possible hallmark of an only child, but her stubborn refusal to see the obvious doesn’t quite compute. Appalling family dysfunction, mental illness and intergenerational damage don’t make for a cheery tale and a huge leap forward at the end seems unnecessary.