Belgrave Road (2026)
Why this one?
Another upcoming release that caught my attention while browsing Netgalley.
Manish Chauhan was born in Leicester, England. He works as a finance lawyer and currently lives in East London. His short story ‘Pieces’ was shortlisted for the BBC National Short Story Award 2024 and he has won several other awards for his short fiction. This is his debut novel, and is due to be followed by a short story collection (Leicester) in 2027.
Belgrave Road will be published by Faber in early 2026. Thanks to them and Netgalley for the ARC.
Thoughts, etc.
Belgrave Road is ostensibly a love story, between two immigrants to the UK who meet in the Midlands city of Leicester. Mira has arrived in Leicester, like many others, from India, following an arranged marriage to the British-raised Rajiv. She is at once far away from home, and amongst many of her compatriots in a long-established Indian community in the city. She meets Tahliil, a recent arrival from Somalia, who endured a traumatic journey with his sister to escape war and find sanctuary in the UK.
The novel switches perspectives between the two characters, highlighting both the differences in their experiences (Tahliil is with his family but has no surrounding community; Mira almost the opposite) and the similarities. It is centrally focused on the connection that the two form, finding solace in another person as a substitute for ‘home’, in both cases fighting against challenging circumstances for the right to be together. The romance is admittedly well-told, giving me occasionally thoughts of a David Nicholls or a Sally Rooney in its ability to maintain lightness while being far from superficial. Behind that, though, I think, are two more interesting stories.
Mira’s, of arranged marriage, has certainly been covered plenty of times before by Indian and British-Indian writers, but I do think Chauhan takes a reasonably fresh angle on it with Mira’s character. The criticism of the institution is not always explicit, but it is obvious, particularly as we take Mira’s perspective in numerous scenes of unwanted intimacy with a man who plainly wants to be with someone else. Despite this, her character’s responses is far from one-dimensional. While she’s bold in the sense of taking clear steps to break with tradition and make a better life for herself, she’s also (at least for the majority of the novel) a realist who isn’t inclined to risk breaking the harsh rules set for immigrants by marriage such as herself. Her support to Rajiv’s mother, who has unquestioningly endured the (literal) brutality of an arranged marriage in a way that she never would, is obvious in some ways but also subtly and tenderly portrayed.
Tahliil is perhaps less well-rounded as a whole than Mira. Aspects of his backstory read more like cliche, and I found his dialogue to be a little patronisingly written at times (we get that his English is not so good, but I think sometimes that’s better expressed through an initial explanation than repeated “I not know that, boss” type utterances). Having said all that, he does bring a heart and soul to the novel that for me negated these minor criticisms. There have been better renderings of the Kafkaesque nightmare of immigration bureaucracy (which takes up a fair chunk of his story) but several of his sections were much more powerful. First and foremost of these is the depiction of the trauma of his journey through Europe to get to the UK. It’s a thoroughly horrible, yet transparently typical, telling of a very topical and important story. My one big hope whenever I read something like this is that the book gets into the hands of at least some people who demonise immigrants and particularly refugees, as I cannot fathom how one could read a story like this and still maintain such views. (I actually think Belgrave Road is suitably accessible that this hope may actually become a reality - particularly if as feels inevitable a film or TV adaptation follows). Outside of this, his care for the elderly Mr Stevens, and subsequent appalling mistreatment by his estranged son, elicit further sympathy and (once again) righteous anger.
Elsewhere, there are some interesting decisions. Oddly for a book with such a specific place name in the title, it feels much more a novel of interiors (cramped houses and stifled minds) than one that really screams ‘place’. Sure, there are plenty of street names and parks that might work nicely for those familiar with the area, but they don’t serve as much more than backdrop for the essential interiority of the novel. I didn’t mind this, but did find it a slightly surprising thing to reflect on afterwards.
More of an issue (although still not a fatal one) for me was the ending. As I’ve often said, I like open endings. I’m not fond of overly tidy conclusions where everything is neatly and conveniently wrapped up. I’m also down with abrupt, unexpected endings, where they serve a purpose. Here, though, I was left overwhelmingly with a sense of a book leaving itself open to a potential sequel, rather than one in which the lack of resolution served a deliberate purpose. I’ve thought about it a little since and I think there is one take that might redeem it - which is that potentially what Chauhan is doing is showing (not telling) us that the fantasy of escape that both characters experience is ultimately nothing more than that. It’s a pessimistic, yet unfortunately likely true to life, reading of the book’s conclusion. We can’t seriously be expected to believe that there is any way out (especially for Tahliil) following his unjust fate, can we? I guess time, and the demands that may follow what seems to be an expected commercial success for this book, will tell…
Score
8
An engaging read, that covers heavy and timely topics with a light touch.
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Next up
TBC.
