Back in November of 2025, from the days before I slumped into a trough of inaction accompanied by the bad habits of prevarication, I wrote a few words about the ‘Alma Asfalto’ newsletter and by association Jason Flores-Williams’ novel ‘Chamizal’ which was (and continues to be) serialised within its pages. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about ‘Chamizal’ again recently, mostly because its themes of existential struggle within the paralysing systems of Industrial Technological Capitalism seem ever more vividly relevant. Indeed it is that notion of being forced to exist within what increasingly feels like an alien system that has been resonating with me, the more so since I recall Flores-Williams saying a couple of years ago that in his experience it feels like the majority of contemporary Americans exist in total denial of any kind of systematic influence/control over their lives at all. This goes beyond the geographical borders of the U.S.A. of course, as we are ever more rapidly encouraged into the Cult Of Individualism where Freedom is the illusion of self-expression made possible by the underpinning of digital technologies that appear to Give Us A Voice. The irony of expressing this notion on a platform of digital technology is not lost on me, incidentally.

This idea of being forced to exist within a system that is at best outside of our control and at worst one that is alien and insidiously attempting to erase our very existence is one that seems to be at the core of ‘Possessions’, the recent(ish) book by Davina Quinlivan. Subtitled ‘A Memoir of Transformation in an Era of Precarity’ the book is in some ways a sequel to 2022’s ‘Shalimar’ in that includes threads of Quinlivan’s life, family and heritage, yet it also feels like something of a tightening up of the boot laces, a hardening of if not heart then at least of attitudes. This is felt most strongly when Quinliuvan writes about her experiences within the system of academia, struggling to find security and a sense of belonging in the post-COVID era of endless on-line sessions and heightened levels of anxiety. These sections of the book will surely resonate with many within the education sector, at whatever level, as Quinlivan sketches out the increasingly pervasive sense of the intrinsic value (and pleasure) of knowledge and learning for its own sake being replaced by one based solely on quantitative financial ‘worth’. Arguably the notion of learning and knowledge for its own sake could be said to have been illusory at best for a very long time, perhaps at least since the establishment of structured education (ahem) systems but Quinlivan does pick up on what feels like a rapid acceleration in the idea that knowledge/learning should now be described primarily in terms of Capital. Her irritation with this is palpable, but this is as nothing compared to the frustrations expressed about the difficulties in finding any kind of reliable tenure. The business of learning, it would seem, is secondary to the business of Business. If this in itself seems somewhat dispiriting then Quinlivan enlivens it with a spirit of resistance and a determination to create positive transformation out of adversity. The writing does this not just by calling out the issues of Higher Education systems but by also by critiquing the manner in which much of Modern Western education systems are built on notions of Imperialism and Colonisation. This is managed not just by piercing jabs of finely placed cultural theory but also by detours into the realms of magical realism. Now I use this expression advisedly, largely because I am never entirely certain what it really means, yet in ‘Possessions’ there are many marvellous excursions into the poetic corners of Quinlivan’s thinking that are filled with the glittering threads of dreams and of magic that is rooted in landscapes both imagined and distinctly real. The imagined are often related to Quinlivan’s Burmese heritage and see myth, legend and familial lineage intertwine. The real, meanwhile, are as often as not those around the lower valley of the river Exe in Mid Devon. These are captured with the eye of the naturalist and the tongue of the poet.

It was this connection to place in ‘Shalimar’ (specifically the river valley around the place I have also called home for the past twenty years) that resonated most strongly with me and it is so also with ‘Possessions’, and if it is overall less cohesive than ‘Shalimar’ then this is surely in part by design and by part due to the shifting context of Quinlivan’s life. There is a turmoil implicit in both books and this tunnels itself through passages of time between mythic, distant pasts and a fractured, fluid present. The words in ‘Possessions’ suggest that when ‘sense’ is sought and found it is either within the physical reality of nature’s enveloping cloak or within the imagined inner landscapes of our dreams, but rarely if ever in the imposed constructs of Modern Life. ‘Possessions’ then feels like a punctuation point on the ongoing journey of Quinlivan’s life, one where ‘traditions’ of motherhood, family and work are simultaneously embraced, celebrated and questioned in fever dreams and reasoned observation and argument. It reads rather like a wild and marvellous spirit struggling for freedom from the bindings of The System and whilst it may be one rooted in deeply personal experiences it also feels almost supernaturally universal. Highly recommended.

‘Possessions’ is published by September Books: https://septemberpublishing.org/product/possessions-a-memoir-of-transformation-in-an-era-of-precarity-pb/