'For now, and for our purposes here, every man is Bob.'
The heroine of The Fig Book wakes on her first morning in the grand house with the feeling that she might finally be becoming a real person-or, at least, a woman. She's been instructed to enjoy the special view by the self-satisfied landscape artist, who has also entrusted the couple with the care of his dog. The view is remarkable. And the dog is learning surprising new talents. But all Bob wants to do is film them and put them on the internet. Feeling increasingly alienated, she goes back over the many Bobs she's known and been known by. All that sex and all that shame, it turns out, has a seething lasting power.
As she begins to shed the old human constraints, a spiral of unnerving events threatens to tear the whole natural and unnatural world apart.
The Fig Book is a cry of feral rage, a bull in the china shop of the male ego, a failed love story that cracks open into an exhilarating ecological parable. It is a story about relationships, rewilding, and the strange fire of the self that can't be disentangled from the living world. Audaciously original, Joan Fleming's debut draws us into an entirely unexpected moral universe.
'Lush, strange and gloriously alive, this fierce debut novel plumbs female rage and radical transformation. It is funny and terrifying, a potent eco-fable for our bruised and burning world. I drank it down in one sitting.' Catherine Chidgey, author of The Starving Bride and The Axeman's Carnival
'A fever-dream of a book - delirious, funny, furious and strange, full of silt and smoke. I was completely consumed.' Martha Spackland
'Utterly magnificent. I adored every thrumming, sonorous, strange word. The story is completely other and yet absolutely familiar. It captures so clearly the feeling of being in a young woman's body; even as the novel begins to rip, entangle and rage.' Romy Ash, author of Mantle
'The Fig Book is a thing of wonder. It is beautiful and weird and funny and repellent and compulsive and wise.' Dr Hannah August