Critiques en avant-premièreMelissa Harrison

The four main characters in Melissa Harrison debut novel have little in common: neither background, age, nor gender. But they do share one thing: a small litter-blown park in the middle of a city. The city is a strange place for Jozif. After living in a Polish village for much of his life, he is struggling to adjust to the tall, grey landscape of apartment living, and his job in a local deli serving french fries and fried chicken to brash, self-assured children makes him feel even more disconnected from the surrounding population. It is only when he encounters TC, a troubled boy running away from school, that Jozif finds a kindred spirit with whom he can share his fascination with the natural world. Tracking animals in the sparse parkland, the two are noticed by a friendly local , the elderly and recently widowed Sophia, who has been attempting to spark an interest in nature in her granddaughter, Daisy. While Sophia sends Daisy letters each week about the growth of the flowers they planted together, Jozif attempts to extract, over games of chess, the details of TC's troubled home life, a home left broken by the departure of the boy's father. Like leaves twisting in the wind, the lives of these four figures are blown together, defying the gravity affecting the world around them. That is, until the pressures of modern life intervene. A beautiful debut novel reflecting the destructive nature of humanity, and the indelible effects people can have on the environment and those around them, Clay poetically captures the delicate balances of life in the city, between young and old, between nature and development, between recklessness and caution.