Seizure is a densely poetic, precisely constructed novel about storytelling. Janet has been raised by her father on stories of her parents’ flawless romance, believing that her mother had died when she was three. She is shaken to discover that, in fact, her mother died very recently, leaving her a cottage on an isolated stretch of northern coastline. Janet goes to investigate, and finds Tom, who somehow knew to expect her. Unlike Janet, he grew up alone with his mother and the lurking menace of the folk tales she told him, tales of enchanted ships and men possessed by fairies.
Wagner, who is literary editor of the Times, employs a highbrow narrative style. She uses little dialogue, instead fleshing out her characters through meticulous symbolism. Highly artificial episodes lend the slow-paced narrative an uneasy tension: at one point Janet indicates that she will listen to Tom by wordlessly crushing her mobile phone.
The emphasis on precisely crafted imagery over fast-moving plot could be coldly cerebral, but Wagner supplies emotional depth through lyrical phrases reminiscent of Margaret Atwood. Her penchant for literary devices is never over-indulged, ensuring that while Seizure is slow-burning, it burns none the less.
