Heather Parry

Carrion Crow, surely, will win awards . . . Every sentence oozes a crushed purple poetry, overripe with devastation and wretchedness . . . If you finish it feeling you might just skip dinner, then you also feel filled with awe for a writer so gifted at conveying this much ick in such luxuriant, refulgent style.

Nods to Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper and, more obliquely, to the mythic grotesquerie of Angela Carter’s early fiction.

Carrion Crow may be set in a fetid late Victorian London and couched in lightly brocaded prose, but what lurks within is unmistakably red in tooth and claw, a creature nearer in kinship to Kathy Acker than to Sarah Waters . . richly fecund and adult in every sense of the word.

Carrion Crow is a worthy entrant into the contemporary gothic hall of fame . . . I’m not sure the pure rancidness of this book will ever totally leave me.

Haunting and vivid, creating that palpable sense of isolation so hard to create. Parry's atmospheric storytelling leaps off the page.

Probably one of the best books I've read this year! It felt like an unholy mix of Ottessa Moshfegh and Leonora Carrington, whilst still being very much its own thing. By turns grotesque and painfully tender, Carrion Crow is a masterful novel by a writer in complete control. Seldom have I read so compulsively or been so keen for a book not to end. It is a novel of achy compassion and consummate nastiness and I loved it.

Grizzly, compelling, and utterly claustrophobic.

Heather Darwent, author of The Things We Do To Our Friends

A surreal and abject little monster of a novel, artful in its exploration of women’s unspoken and unfulfilled ambitions, and the transformations they make to try and achieve them.

If you’re on the lookout for a gothic masterpiece, look no further than Carrion Crow ... a thought-provoking and bold exploration of a toxic mother/daughter relationship set against a darkly gothic backdrop, which shines a light on societal constraints of the time and deals with the expectations laid at the feet of women.

A brilliantly claustrophobic tale of confinement . . . a cautionary tale of the societal pressures that have left so many women unfulfilled and overwhelmed.

A haunting, visceral, insightful, and deeply poignant experience.

One of the most important new voices in fiction, with Carrion Crow Heather Parry deduces an unutterable Gothic horror of class and gender from the pages of Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management. A festering Edwardian nightmare dressed in exquisitely tailored language, Parry’s vision is magnificent and devastating.

Sublime, wretched, harrowing, glorious.

Kirsty Logan, author of Things We Say in the Dark

Carrion Crow picks at the scabs of class, sexual liberty and body autonomy in Victorian London and chews them over with grotesque attention to detail. Sharp, claustrophobic and undeniably gross, it revels in the repulsive and positions Heather Parry as both a punk Sarah Waters and the baddest bitch in the business. I can’t wait to see this strange bird fly to dizzying heights.

Alice Slater, author of Death of a Bookseller

A gruesome, provocative, stylish fairytale about confinement and consumption, Carrion Crow’s takes the “mad woman in the attic” trope and turns the dial up to 100. Heather Parry’s layered novel is both terrifying and thoughtful – a true Gothic gem.

Kaliane Bradley, author of The Ministry of Time

Carrion Crow is a book to marvel at. Beautifully written with such dark, claustrophobic precision, exploring the devastating control we assert upon one another. Such an achievement.

Rachelle Atalla, author of The Pharmacist

As mesmerizing as it is surreal, Carrion Crow is a haunting gothic tapestry. It’s unapologetically strange and grotesque, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so breathless getting lost in the pages of a book before now.

Heather Parry has written an exquisitely horrifying little book. Delicate, deftly written and enticingly obscene, Carrion Crow will captivate you from the first sentence and haunt you long after the story ends. I've never read anything quite like it.

Carrion Crow is a rancid work of genius about the depths to which the world will go to rid women of their “unnatural desires”. This novel makes the walls close in and the body an oozing font of horror, and I fell in love with its wild beating crow heart. Heather Parry is a disgusting mastermind and I’d read anything she wrote.

What a book! And what a disturbing delight to come across a writer who is so unflinching, so unafraid to explore the darker regions of the body and mind. But more than that, Heather Parry is a consummate stylist, unique in her insight and manipulation of her source material (Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management, incredible!): each sentence is a pristine gift, no matter how gloriously disturbing. Bold, blazing, absolutely unforgettable.

Elizabeth Macneal, author of The Doll Factory

Both mouthwatering and revolting, a heady poisonous pudding of a book.

Camilla Grudova, author of Children of Paradise

A delicious, rotten apple of a book full of treachery and betrayal of the most foul sort. As an author she is sublime, intelligent and with a technical proficiency that is enough to make you want to never leave a world she has created - even when danger lurks around every corner.

Beautiful, and a gorgeous metaphor for the Victorian restraints on women . . . Gloriously gothic.

A powerful and spine-tingling gothic tale exploring mother-daughter relationships, sexuality, and class. 
 
There are some facts about the world that only your mother can teach you. 
Marguerite had been confined for the sake of her wellbeing. 
That’s what her mother had said. 
 
Marguerite Périgord is locked in the attic of her family home, a towering Chelsea house overlooking the stinking Thames. For company she has a sewing machine, Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management and a carrion crow who has come to nest in the rafters. Restless, she spends her waning energies on the fascinations of her own body, memorising Mrs Beeton’s advice and longing for her life outside. 
 
Cécile Périgord has confined her daughter Marguerite for her own good. Cécile is concerned that Marguerite’s engagement to a much older, near-penniless solicitor, will drag the family name – her husband’s name, that is – into disrepute. And for Cécile, who has worked hard at her own betterment, this simply won’t do. 
 
Cécile’s life has taught her that no matter how high a woman climbs she can just as readily fall. 
 
Of course, both have their secrets, intentions and histories to hide. As Marguerite’s patience turns into rage, the boundaries of her mind and body start to fray. 
 
And neither woman can recognise what the other is becoming.

Heather Parry

Praise for Carrion Crow

Carrion Crow, surely, will win awards . . . Every sentence oozes a crushed purple poetry, overripe with devastation and wretchedness . . . If you finish it feeling you might just skip dinner, then you ...

Nods to Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper and, more obliquely, to the mythic grotesquerie of Angela Carter’s early fiction.

Carrion Crow may be set in a fetid late Victorian London and couched in lightly brocaded prose, but what lurks within is unmistakably red in tooth and claw, a creature nearer in kinship to Kathy Acker than ...

Carrion Crow, surely, will win awards . . . Every sentence oozes a crushed purple poetry, overripe with devastation and wretchedness . . . If you finish it feeling you might just skip dinner, then you ...

Nods to Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper and, more obliquely, to the mythic grotesquerie of Angela Carter’s early fiction.

Carrion Crow may be set in a fetid late Victorian London and couched in lightly brocaded prose, but what lurks within is unmistakably red in tooth and claw, a creature nearer in kinship to Kathy Acker than ...

Carrion Crow, surely, will win awards . . . Every sentence oozes a crushed purple poetry, overripe with devastation and wretchedness . . . If you finish it feeling you might just skip dinner, then you ...

Nods to Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper and, more obliquely, to the mythic grotesquerie of Angela Carter’s early fiction.

Carrion Crow may be set in a fetid late Victorian London and couched in lightly brocaded prose, but what lurks within is unmistakably red in tooth and claw, a creature nearer in kinship to Kathy Acker than ...

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