Habitat

Habitat

A striking debut novel from one of Ireland’s most promising emerging talents ‘Marries the cosmic nightmare of Darren Aronofsky’s Mother!  with the sociological portraits of Ken Loach. . . . I’ve never read anything quite like it’ —Colin Walsh, author, Kala Habitat follows seven people over the course of a week as their mid-century apartment building in Oslo inexplicably disappears. The web of neighbors is connected by family relations, long acquaintance, life-long feuds, and glimpses of each other across the communal garden. As they are each affected in different ways, they fail to grasp that this is a shared crisis. The neighbors, in turn, blame and reach out to each other, never seeing the full picture. Their age, profession, origin, and family status all affect how they respond to the crisis in their own apartment, and to what extent help and understanding is available to them. The building components give their own take on being used for the purposes of these people, their voices containing the longer perspective of materials that existed before the building, and which will survive in some form beyond its destruction. This debut examines the evasive responses of these neighbors, their troubles and short-comings, and the lies they tell each other and themselves. Comparable to Kafka’s Metamorphosis or Eugène Ionesqo’s Rhinoceros in how people respond to an uncanny event, Shine has here written a parable perfectly fit for our uncertain times. ‘Truly uncanny – a novel that marries the cosmic nightmare of Darren Aronofsky’s Mother!  with the sociological portraits of Ken Loach. Chapter by chapter, in the face of forces that are undeniable and elemental,  Habitat ’s domesticated world of rules and regulations deforms itself into something unsettling and eerily recognisable. I’ve never read anything quite like it.’ Colin Walsh, author, Kala ‘Shine’s gaze is fresh, observant and unsettling. Habitat is an inventive and compelling read, a remarkable debut from an immensely talented writer.’ Danielle McLaughlin , author, The Art of Falling 'An uncanny fable of, and for, a disintegrating world – a bold and strikingly original debut from a sophisticated new voice in Irish fiction.’ Lucy Caldwell, author, Being Various Catriona Shine grew up in Ireland and now works as an architect in Oslo. Her writing has appeared in The Dublin Review, Channel, Southword and elsewhere. She was awarded the Penfro First Chapter Prize in 2016 and IAFOR Vladimir Davidé Haiku Award in 2017 and was shortlisted for the Sean O’Faolain Short Story Prize 2022. She has also been shortlisted for the O. Henry Prize and the McKitterick Prize among others. Knut Knut and his grandson woke to one another’s noises and met in the hallway. Knut bent over, with the intention of planting a kiss on Teddy’s head, but, feeling a pull under his right shoulder blade, he contented himself with ruffling the boy’s hair.    Good morning, little prince, he said. Where’s Mamma?    Teddy pointed in the direction of the bedroom.    The door was held open by Teddy’s trailing blanket. Knut edged the blanket back in and closed the door with only the faintest click of the handle. This had been his own room as a child, and he knew from the deep snug inside him that Bibbi would be safe there. He could not even feel guilty for letting his own mother move out to make room for them. This way, they could stay close.    Knut put a finger to his lips.    Let Mamma and Granny sleep, he said.    Bibbi had slept like a log the past week and, if she did, she needed it. Her marriage to that executive should never have gone ahead at all, if you asked Knut. But no one did, and if anyone had asked him, if Bibbi herself had asked him at the time, he would have said, What do I know? It’s your own choice.    Still, it was hard to regret it all when little Teddy was there, making music with marbles on the floor. Only a completely useless father would abandon his own son outright, but it was a good thing, for Bibbi, that he was gone. He made no marks, but that man had left a trace on her. Being an attractive young woman brought as much trouble as good. Knut worried about how often she went out at night ever since she came back. Staying in touch with friends, she called it, but before he knew it she would have a new partner. It never seemed to take long. Then she would be gone again, along with Teddy this time.    Apissu, apissu, all fall down, said Teddy.    Knut didn’t mind getting up in the morning anymore. Teddy’s little voice did something to him. It was like a breeze which blew his eyes wide open, a string which pulled him up to standing. Still, to appreciate Teddy fully at such an early hour of the morning, he needed a cup of black coffee in his hand. In the kitchen, he spooned ground coffee into the filter bag, added water and turned on the Moccamaster. He heard marbles rolling along the wooden floor as he measured out oats and milk. E