Audition is very much a novel of two halves. A cliche, and one which has come up more than once in my recent reading, but never more true than here. In its first part, we are introduced to an unnamed female narrator, preparing for a role in an upcoming play, in which she is notably struggling to nail a key scene. A young man, Xavier, meets her for lunch in an upmarket restaurant, having previously explained that he believes she may be his mother (a seeming impossibility as the narrator has never given birth). They are observed briefly by her husband, Tomas, an art critic, who seems somewhat weary of her affairs and is behaving a little shiftily himself.

The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny is an epic family saga centring on the lives of Sonia Shah and Sunny Bhatia, two young people from India whose paths intertwine. The story is initiated by a clumsy and half-hearted failed attempt to engineer an arranged marriage between the two by their neighbouring families in India. Sonia, an aspiring novelist who has been studying in Vermont, returns home to India after a deeply troubling relationship in New York with a memorably deranged and controlling older artist named Ilan de Toorjen Foss. She is haunted by this encounter, believing he may have cast a "dark spell" on her (which manifests - seemingly physically - as a ‘ghost hound’ later in the novel). Sunny, a struggling journalist, is working for the Associated Press in New York City, living in Brooklyn with his American girlfriend Ulla. He too returns to his home country, initially to help his friend Satya in his own attempts to secure an arranged marriage.

The Rest of Our Lives focuses on the 50-something law professor Tom Layward, based in New York with his wife Amy and about to see their youngest child Miri off to college in Pittsburgh. We learn early on in the novel that Amy had cheated on Tom over a decade ago, at which point he had privately vowed to leave her after their children had both left home. As they prepare for Miri’s departure, both experience some degree of ‘empty nester’ anxiety and Amy decides to stay home rather than face the emotional trauma first-hand.

The Land in Winter takes place in a remote community in the West Country of England during the famously harsh winter of 1962-63 (known as the ‘Big Freeze’). It focuses on two couples, neighbours separated by a field. Eric Parry is a local doctor, well-established in the community and married to Irene. They’re ostensibly a picture-perfect upper middle class couple, hosting dinner parties and very much conscious of their elevated status in their small community. The farm nearby has recently been bought by Bill Simmons, on something of a whim. He lives there with his relatively modern young wife Rita, who is adapting from her previous party life in the bars and clubs of Bristol. While Bill is also not exactly poor, he’s from an immigrant family (though not obviously) and the status of ‘farmer’ in the 1960s still very much carried an implication of lower social status than the Parrys. While Eric and Bill struggle to connect (or even really contemplate that they would), their wives are both pregnant and begin to form an unlikely bond.

Olive Kitteridge is a short story cycle covering several decades in the lives of the inhabitants of a rural Maine community. One character is common throughout the collection’s stories, the indomitable Olive, a retired schoolteacher, matriarch, and pillar (of sorts) of the local community. She is central to many of the stories, an important piece of the plot in others, and entirely peripheral to a few others. It’s superficially an odd kind of assemblage, betraying in some senses its roots as a collection of short stories published by Strout over the course of the whole of the 90s and 2000s. But it does contain narrative progression, its throughline being in the development of its lead character, who in the course of the book sees her son twice married, her husband incapacitated and later passing away, and the beginnings of an unlikely later-life relationship.

The Möbius Book is a neither straightforwardly Lacey’s fifth novel, nor entirely not. It is a work in two parts, one ostensibly fiction and the other memoir, in its printed form designed to be read in whichever order the reader chooses, with neither presented as the ‘correct’ choice. In the the digital ARC I read, the first part is the fictional narrative, which concerns two friends - Marie and Edie - who meet at the former’s flat in the wake of their respective painful breakups (Marie with her ex-wife K, with whom she co-parented two children; Edie from an abusive partner), both choosing to ignore the blood seeping through Marie’s neighbour’s door.

The City Changes Its Face is both a sequel to and a kind of retelling of McBride’s brilliant 2017 work The Lesser Bohemians. It joins that book’s protagonists, Eily and Stephen, just a few years after its events, with the setting roughly the same - we’re still in grimy mid-90s London, although the lovers’ new house is somewhat less poky and grim than their Camden dwelling in the first book. It hops around in time between the ‘present day’ setting of late 1996, and various periods in between the action of The Lesser Bohemians and that time. The broad concept is that the ‘now’ sections detail an argument between the two over the course of a day, with the hops back in time providing some context. In the middle of all of this is the book’s centrepiece, a description by Eily of a screening of a rough cut of Stephen’s autobiographical film, which expands on his traumatic backstory, this time artistically mediated and then interpreted by Eily, rather than in his first-person confessional voice as in the first book.

The Lesser Bohemians is told from the perspective of Eily, and 18-year-old Irish woman, newly registered at a London drama school. As she settles in to her new life in 1990s Camden Town, she attracts the attention of Stephen, an actor of some renown in his late thirties. They begin an intense, passionate and often destructively turbulent relationship. Initially, it seems like the focus may be on the imbalance of power in their age difference, and their are certainly aspects of that, but ultimately the story develops in much more complex ways as each reveals details of their traumatic past, which in sharing binds them ever closer together.

Ripeness is told from the perspective of the 70-year-old Edith, brought up in England’s Midlands but here living a comfortable life in rural Ireland, somewhere around the present day. It consists of two strands: one focuses on her pleasant but mundane life in the here and now, her casual relationship (post-divorce) with Gunter, and her friendship with Maebh, who receives a message from a man in America claiming to be her half-brother. The second intertwining strand takes the form of a missive from Edith to her nephew, to be open upon her death, which describes the circumstances leading up to his birth in 1960s Italy to her young ballet-dancer sister Lydia. There are subtle plot details which slowly reveal themselves over the course of both parts of the narrative, which while not earth-shatteringly shocking are still integral to the reading experience, so I’ll keep my summary brief here.

Confessions is set across several decades of recent history, in sections split between New York City and rural Donegal, Ireland. It is told from multiple perspectives, of women in different generations of the same family. It opens memorably on September 11, 2001, with Cora Brady wandering the streets of New York following the attacks, in which it rapidly becomes apparent that her father has died. In an absence of any other surviving family members, we learn that she is to move to Donegal to stay with her aunt Róisín. And that’s the last we hear from Cora for a while, as we first jump back and later forward in time to learn about the stories of her mother, aunt, and later her daughter.

Held is a very difficult book to summarize in a short paragraph. In some sort of roundabout fashion, it’s a ‘grand historical sweep’ and a family saga, two things I usually very much enjoy. It begins in the trenches of the First World War, before we follow fairly logically into its aftermath, with the return of a soldier to something approaching ‘normal’ life in an early photography studio. In that same section, it takes a leap towards the supernatural, as the faces of his subjects’ loved ones begin appearing in his images. From here, things begin (deliberately) to fall apart, as the ‘novel’ (in as much as it is one) becomes progressively more fragmentary as it travels though the twentieth century and beyond, encountering along the way several generations of descendants of the original characters and the occasional famous figure like Ernest Rutherford or Marie Curie.

The Safekeep begins in the early 1960s in the rural Dutch province of Overijssel. We meet the book’s central character, Isabel, who lives alone in her family home, following her mother’s death. She obsessively tends to the house, while knowing she is only a temporary occupant. The house will eventually pass to her elder brother Louis, who like her other brother Hendrick has no interest in living in the house, having left and embraced city life. The three siblings meet for a dinner early in the book, at which Louis introduces his latest girlfriend Eva, to whom Isabel is openly and viciously rude. When Louis is later called away for work, he insists that Eva stay in the family home with Isabel, much to the latter’s dismay.

In the novel, both Khaled and Mustafa are shot at the protest and hospitalised. From this point, they are unable to return to their home country. The book explores the subsequent relationship, and eventual diverging paths, of the two friends, along with a third, the enigmatic author Hosam. The latter is introduced early in the novel as an inspirational figure in Khaled's life, after hearing his poem read out - unusually in lieu of a news broadcast - on the BBC Arabic World Service, by a presenter who would soon after be murdered in London (another event based closely on real events). Khaled later meets Hosam by chance in Paris, before the writer (no longer writing) joins him in London and becomes a lasting friend.

Orbital is conceptually simple yet unique. It follows a single day aboard an international space station, where six astronauts and cosmonauts go about their work, maintaining their craft, conducting scientific experiments, exercising, and observing and recording activity on Earth as they hurtle around it at incomprehensible speed. In the twenty-four hours covered by this slim novel, its protagonists will observe sixteen sunrises and sunsets on the planet below. In between the details of the day, we get sketches of the lives the six crewmembers have left behind.

Playground focuses primarily on four characters, who we know will come to share a connection. In Montreal, Evie Beaulieu is introduced in dramatic fashion, as a 12-year-old plunging to the bottom of a swimming pool, strapped to one of the first aqualungs by her father, and grows to love the ocean and everything connected to it. In Chicago, two super-smart kids with vastly differing backgrounds bond at an elite high school over their love of sophisticated board games. And finally there’s Ina Aroita, who has to my memory a far less memorable introduction, but is apparently considered to be one of the four main players also.

Oiur Evenings has a lot about it that will be familiar to Hollinghurst fans. Its protagonist, David Win, is a mixed-race child of a single parent, from the lower middle classes (his mother runs a small dressmaking business) in rural Southern England. He is a scholar at a prestigious fee-paying boys’ school, the recipient of an exhibition awarded by the arts benefactor Mark Harlow. The novel’s early chapters detail events during David’s time at that school, including a weekend at the Harlows’ country home, and an adventurous school ‘challenge’ in which he is paired with the Harlows’ son Giles (who we know from the book’s flash-forward introduction is to become a notorious right-wing politician and Brexit architect). David makes his way in life, developing an interest in acting and generally doing reasonably (if unspectacularly) well, all the while contending with his points of difference.

Our London Lives is told from the alternating viewpoints of two Irish immigrants who meet in a central London pub in the 1970s. Milly is a bartender at a traditional city pub, catering for a diverse clientele covering locals, city workers, and most importantly, boxers from a neighbouring club. One of those is Pip, who we first encounter as an ex-convict who has just come out of rehab, in 2017 (the novel’s ‘present day’). Pip’s story is told entirely from the vantage point of that present day, with all the retrospective mix of nostalgia and regret that comes with that sort of angle. By contrast, Milly’s narrative unfolds chronologically, in the moment, through the years from the late 1970s through to, eventually, 2017. In her story there are large leaps and gaps that aren’t immediately filled in, but the two perspectives collide in a richly satisfying (though far from conclusive) ending.

The Wren, The Wren is told from the perspective of three members of the same family. We begin from the perspective of Nell, a student and latterly author of clickbait-y online journalism, who is keen to break away from her claustrophobic relationship with her mother. This perspective alternates through most of the book with that of her mother Carmel, who has raised Nell alone after a brief affair. Looming over them both is the long shadow of Carmel’s poet father Phil., a womaniser who channels most of hs useful energy into poetry and otherwise appears as something of a moral and emotional vaccum. His nature-focused poems are dotted through the book, and we also get one chapter from his perspective towards the end.

Restless Dolly Maunder is the fictionalised story of Grenville’s grandmother, with the author trying to make sense of her mother’s distant and cold impression of the former by imagining the motivations and emotions that drove her ‘restless’ life. It begins with Dolly’s childhood, on a farm in New South Wales in the late nineteenth century. Dolly is a bright and promising pupil at the local one-room school, but grows up in an era when it’s practically unheard of for women to progress in education and take on a job of their own. Her ambition to become a teacher is futile, as teachers must relinquish their role upon marriage, an inevitability for a young woman of her time. Besides, her father couldn’t bear the shame of having a working daughter! ‘Over my dead body’ is his response to her request, and a phrase that haunts Dolly for the rest of her life.

River East, River West takes the form of two parallel narratives, as two characters experience contrasting moments in the recent history of China. The more autobiographical section, set initially in 2007 (shortly before the Financial Crisis), introduces us to 14-year-old Alva, the daughter of American expat and failed actress Sloan, as she navigates being a ‘laowai’ in a Chinese high school and looks on enviously at those attending American expat schools nearby.