Length: 272 Pages
A Guardian Best Book of the 21st Century
SHORTLISTED FOR THE MAN BOOKER PRIZE 2017
A SUNDAY TIMES TOP TEN BESTSELLER
A breathtakingly inventive new novel from the Man Booker-shortlisted and Baileys Prize-winning author of How to be both
'The novel of the year is obviously Ali Smith's Autumn, which managed the miracle of making at least a kind of sense out of post-Brexit Britain' Observer
'Humour, grace, solace... A light-footed meditation on mortality, mutability and how to keep your head in troubled times' Guardian
'Transcendental writing about art, death and all the dimensions of love' Deborah Levy, author of Hot Milk and The Cost of Living
Autumn. Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. That's what it felt like for Keats in 1819.
How about Autumn 2016?
Daniel is a century old. Elisabeth, born in 1984, has her eye on the future. The United Kingdom is in pieces, divided by a historic once-in-a-generation summer.
Love is won, love is lost. Hope is hand in hand with hopelessness. The seasons roll round, as ever.
Ali Smith's new novel is a meditation on a world growing ever more bordered and exclusive, on what richness and worth are, on what harvest means. This first in a seasonal quartet casts an eye over our own time. Who are we? What are we made of? Shakespearian jeu d'esprit, Keatsian melancholy, the sheer bright energy of 1960s Pop art: the centuries cast their eyes over our own history-making.
Here's where we're living. Here's time at its most contemporaneous and its most cyclic.
From the imagination of the peerless Ali Smith comes a shape-shifting series, wide-ranging in timescale and light-footed through histories, and a story about ageing and time and love and stories themselves.
Here comes Autumn.
Length: 272 Pages
I love Ali Smith's writing, and I've been keeping Autumn for an end-of-book holiday treat
In a country apparently divided against itself, a writer such as Smith is more valuable than a whole parliament of politicians
Bold and brilliant, dealing with the body blow of Brexit to offer us something rare: hope
Humour, grace, solace...A light-footed meditation on mortality, mutability and how to keep your head in troubled times
Transcendental writing about art, death and all the dimensions of love. It's not so much 'reading between the lines' as being blinded by the light between the lines - in a good way
The novel of the year is obviously Ali Smith's Autumn, which managed the miracle of making at least a kind of sense out of post-Brexit Britain
Autumn is a beautiful, poignant symphony of memories, dreams and transient realities
Experimental, thematically complex, associative, time-juggling, powered by a crazed and energetic curiosity
Pure literary magic
Puckish, yet elegant; angry, but comforting. Long may she Remain that way