Review: Hannah & Huia

Bay of Plenty author Charlotte Lobb doesn’t waste any time as she plunges readers into the world of her debut novel, Hannah & Huia. It opens with a nameless woman being checked into an institution, possibly a prison, maybe a hospital.

Two pages in, it’s revealed to be a mental health unit and Lobb has already built enough atmosphere and intrigue that you’ll want to read on. Pacing the story to build on new information and ensure there’s logic and cohesion to Hannah & Huia is one of the book’s strengths – even when, toward the end, things fall possibly a little too neatly into place.

But that’s racing too fast ahead. There’s a lot to piece together before Hannah & Huia draws to its poignant and, by and large, satisfying close. Seamlessly moving between present and past, we learn that the woman is Hannah and she is in shock, rendered speechless, following the sudden death of her husband and baby son.

The circumstances surrounding their deaths are gradually divulged, timed with each slow advance in Hannah’s mental health. Lobb writes grief and the ensuing seesaw emotions and mental states believably; so too, are the shocks of new parenthood convincingly recounted. The institutional setting is also well rendered; you can easily picture the patients in the day lounge, decorated in faux-cosiness, the pings and chimes of various medical and monitoring equipment, the flicker of lights and the growing exasperation of doctors and nurses when Hannah won’t talk.

But, as Lobb writes, ‘Psych wards are never fully peaceful. They are never entirely still.’ There’s a restlessness throughout the book especially when we’re introduced to other patients, a disparate collection of characters who are perhaps a tad underwritten to maintain focus on Hannah then Huia. The latter could well go down as one of the most memorable characters in recent contemporary fiction.

Huia is a long-term resident, outwardly trapped in an inner world of reciting random words, plucking at her left sleeve and dressing like an Op shop supermodel. She is the kind of woman we may pass on the street - gaze unfocused, walking aimlessly and muttering to herself – then cross to avoid. Huia has become part of the furniture; attempts at therapy long abandoned but Hannah is fascinated by her and, as readers, we are too.

Unravelling the mystery that is Huia becomes Hannah’s sole focus, much to the consternation of her doctors and to us as readers. Does Huia exist solely to further Hannah’s journey?  Wisely, Lobb addresses this directly when Hannah wonders the same thing. Lobb then changes the focus of the story to Huia so we learn who she once was and how she got to where she is.

Without revealing too much, Huia’s story highlights one of the more shameful aspects of Aotearoa New Zealand’s past when young, unmarried girls and women were forced to give up babies for adoption, often to strangers and frequently through secretive arrangements brokered by maternity hospitals. Huia’s story is moving and a salient reminder that past trauma left unresolved plays havoc in the present and future. Gradually, Hannah learns to read Huia and by finding her truth exposes the bonds that unite them tighter than she – or anyone else - may have imagined.

Lobb has been open about writing Hannah & Huia to highlight mental health topics and to provide hope for those in need. To succeed, one needs a strong story that resonates with readers and, for me, there must be hope alongside the heartbreak. Hannah & Huia more than hits the mark and is ultimately an optimistic, well plotted and written story which reminds us to take notice of those who may not be as “crazy” as we initially believe.

As Lobb writes, ‘No one should ever be made to feel invisible. And you are never alone.’

 Reviewed by Dionne Christian