Unpacking a Tapestry of Words: A Review of The Night Alphabet by Joelle Taylor
When I first heard about Joelle Taylor’s The Night Alphabet, I was instantly intrigued. The concept of a narrative interwoven with tattoos as both art and archive spoke to me—not just about identity but also about the stories etched into our very flesh. Taylor’s description of her work as “a sort of weird sci-fi I’m calling queer futurism” piqued my curiosity; I imagined a blend of the familiar and the fantastical. Little could I anticipate the emotional depths and vivid imagery that awaited me within its pages.
The novel introduces us to Jones, a character who navigates both time and identity through a landscape shaped by her familial legacy—an ability to intertwine with moments from different eras. The novel oscillates between 2223 and a nostalgic Hackney of 1996, each time period marked by a palpable sense of loss, yearning, and resilience. As Jones grapples with her place in this world, she encounters a vibrant cast, including tattoo artists Cass and Small, who become integral to her journey.
One of the strongest themes in The Night Alphabet is the layering of personal stories as mediums of healing—literal and metaphorical tattoos representing memories and experiences. I was particularly struck by her reflection: “A tattoo is a series of holes threaded together?” It resonated deeply with me, as I contemplated how each experience shapes us, often leaving wounds that also serve to connect us. The exploration of misogyny and the forces that shape women’s lives permeates the narrative, and it’s done with such nuance that I felt both challenged and seen.
Taylor’s poetic and powerful prose captivated me from the start. Her words are lush yet sharp, painting a vivid picture that lingers like the aftertaste of a fine meal. Each sentence is layered, stirring a reflection akin to a whispered secret whispered in the dark: “The past is always slightly ahead of us, standing on a street corner smoking a cigarette.” This vivid imagery left me contemplating the weight of our histories and how they follow us.
As I turned the pages, I was reminded of Taylor’s sharp social commentary, encapsulated perfectly in the dialogue between Jones and her companions. Questions about why her stories are “only about women” are met with a defiance that felt empowering, urging us to recognize the importance of those narratives and their interconnectedness—each story a thread woven into the broader tapestry of existence.
In its essence, The Night Alphabet is more than a story of individual struggle; it’s a celebration of collective resilience. Jones’s journey reflects that of many women, showing how our bodies are both battlegrounds and canvases for our stories. As Taylor herself hints, this is just the beginning of a trilogy, promising to further unravel the experiences that have shaped her family.
I cannot recommend The Night Alphabet enough, especially for those who appreciate richly woven narratives that challenge societal norms and delve deeply into identity and time. Taylor’s unique blend of sci-fi and emotional truth transforms the reading experience into something profound. It’s a book that calls to be revisited, continually revealing more layers with each read. So, grab a cup of tea, settle in, and allow yourself to be transported into Jones’s world—you won’t emerge unchanged.