The perks of reading a wallflower: Harriet Armstrong’s absorbing debut

On the surface, Armstrong, in her early 20s, has written rather a conventional novel. Its premise is simple: a young unnamed woman studying at an elite university meets and becomes attached to Luke, an MA student she encounters in the kitchen of her shared accommodation. “So many different futures which could have begun for us right then, right at that moment.” Their adjoining attic rooms possess the same dismal feature: “a huge black beam … which made me think of suicide.” Unsurprisingly, perhaps, she is introverted, neurodiverse, painfully self-conscious and awkward; emotionally immature if highly intelligent. The pair begin an obsessive – at least on her side – friendship. He consistently rejects anything further. In her mind, the tragic intensity is all-consuming, as she embarks on a series of self-destructive acts – dangerous and meaningless sex with strangers, starving herself, passive-aggressive anger, all amplified by what she is reading, listening to and criticising – The Catcher in the Rye, shared Spotify tracks, podcasts, Ottessa Moshfegh’s My Year of Rest and Relaxation.

The book is narrated in a bored monotone that gradually flowers into something extraordinary: a feminist statement of mental unravelling, which is also a plea for the life of the mind. This is marvellously realised as the novel unfolds into a study of interiority and narrative, both an embrace of and a resistance against nihilism. Armstrong has created a form away from such debasing tropes and genres as “sad girl” lit.

Forget the inevitable gen Z label – while the characters may live online and through apps, Armstrong’s work seems both new and utterly timeless.

To Rest Our Minds and Bodies by Harriet Armstrong is published by Les Fugitives (£14.99). Order from observershop.co.uk to receive a special 20% launch offer (ends 11 June). Delivery charges may apply

Photograph by Dominic Lee