Nikki May's Desert Island Books
Featuring a dystopian masterpiece and a story about loyalty, love and revenge...
I’ve been meaning to read This Motherless Land for yonks. A decolonial retelling of Mansfield Park, exploring identity, culture, race, and love, it’s Nikki May’s second book, and was chosen as a Read with Jenna November pick. The book itself encompasses all of the beauty of an Austen novel, blending romance and friendship, plus, in a modern twist, deeper conversations about identity.
May, the author of Wahala and a huge Jane Austen fan, said she was inspired to write This Motherless Land after a re-read of Mansfield Park. It bridges three decades and two continents, delving into the thorny territories of race and culture and belonging. At its heart is a story about love and how it can make the difference between surviving and thriving.
If you’d like to get your hands on a copy of This Motherless Land, why not consider becoming a paid subscriber to my Substack? You’ll be automatically entered into a weekly draw to win a book from my Desert Island Books guest!
Featuring a dystopian masterpiece and a story about loyalty, love and revenge, read on to find out which books Nikki would take with her to the sandy shores of a desert island…
The Old Man and The Sea by Ernest Hemingway
I first read this novella when I was twenty. I’d dropped out of medical school and felt like a complete failure. I knew nothing about fishing then (I still don’t), but that’s fine because this book about an elderly Cuban fisherman struggling for days and nights for an enormous fish, larger than his boat, is about hope, not fishing. It gave me solace when I needed it most. The writing is amazing – terse with endless depth. I’d re-read it every day on my island, and if I ever get rescued, I’ll return a much better writer.
How To Eat by Nigella Lawson
I love food. I love cooking it, eating it, talking about it. Almost all of my happiest memories involve eating food with the people I love. Next to my husband and dogs, food is the thing I’ll miss most when I’m stranded. Nigella will help me cope with this huge loss, she champions unashamed greed and it’s clear she loves food almost as much as I do! Her words will help me conjure up the joy of Sunday Lunch, the satiny lemoniness of tarte au citron, the nostalgic comfort of cream of chicken soup...
The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas
My husband loves this book, his copy is battered – broken spine, yellowing pages – all signs of how much it’s given him, he still re-reads it every couple of years. And every time he does, I remind him that, like me, Alexandre Dumas was mixed race. Born into slavery he went on to forge a successful military career. I’m ashamed to say I’ve never read my husband’s favourite book – it’s always felt too boy-sie. But I will correct this error on my island, and hopefully it will make me feel closer to Peter.
We Were Liars by E. Lockhart
Featuring the perfect (and perfectly awful) Sinclair family, buckets of money, privilege and power – the kind of people you know you’re going to hate. But of course everything is not perfect. As a reader you unpick the past with the help of Cady, a very unreliable narrator. You know there was a tragic accident, you know Cady, her cousins (Johnny and Mirren), and an outsider (Gat) are liars. You know something is very wrong with Cady, but you don’t know what or why. It’s impossible to say more without giving the story away but believe me, it’s worse than you imagine.
Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty
This was my jumping-off point for my debut novel, Wahala. I adore Liane’s gossipy style, the back-and-forth between the characters, the low-level bitchiness and the way she foreshadows that terrible, terrible night. The three women – Madeline, Jane and Celeste are wonderfully flawed (perfect people are incredibly boring). There is so much drama, Liane teases and misdirects. It’s a brilliant take on ex-husbands, second wives, mothers, daughters and schoolyard scandals. Re-reading it on my island will remind me how important female friendships are. And when I’m rescued, I promise I’ll make more time for them.
Half a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozie Adiche
This is a wonderful story about loyalty, love, revenge and the lives laid to waste by the Biafran War. Centred on twin sisters, Olanna and Kainene who are set up as mirrors to reflect their differences. Their partners – Richard, the awkward principled British man and Odenigbo, the expansive Nigerian intellectual – are mirrors too. My father was a medic on the front of the Biafran War, he’s never spoken about it and I was only three at the time. It’s a largely forgotten war, unlike Vietnam which was at the same time. This is a timeless story of the mess that humans make.
Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel
It’s impossible to sum up this dystopian literary masterpiece in a few sentences but I’ll try. Station Eleven is a dark daring and dazzling novel set in the nightmarish years after the collapse of modern civilization. A virulent strain of Sars has wiped out 99% of the world’s population but this book is about people not a pandemic. Compulsive and almost thriller-like, it’s the story of a Hollywood star, his would-be saviour, his ex-wives and a group of nomadic actors roaming the scattered outposts of the Great Lakes, performing Shakespeare plays and classical music, risking everything for creativity and humanity, because as Star Trek taught us, ‘survival is insufficient’.
Slough House by Mick Herron
I was hooked from Slow Horses, the first book in this brilliant series that follows the trials (there are very few tribulations) of demoted ex-MI5 spies. Slough House is the seventh and Jackson Lamb’s political incorrectness scales ever dizzier heights (a big ask). Herron is master of the metaphor and his extraordinarily well-plotted books are always centred on real-life events; this time it’s Brexit, Yellow Vests and Novichok poisoning. Part spy story, part political satire, the outstanding feature is just how devastatingly laugh- out-loud funny this is. And I think I’ll need all the laughs I can get on my island.