Review: Bear, by Kiri Lightfoot

Thirteen-year-old Jasper Robinson-Woods is not okay. The nightmares that haunted him as a child have returned, creeping into his waking life, twisting the edges of what’s real and what isn’t. His father is a ghost – absent but still looming – while his mother is distracted with her irritating new boyfriend. The one constant in Jasper’s life, his beloved pet goldfish, is dying. The darkness whispering to him isn’t just in his dreams anymore. It’s here, and it’s waiting. 

In her debut young adult fiction novel, Bear, author Kiri Lightfoot delves into the tumultuous world of adolescence. Lightfoot takes the classic coming-of-age story and drags it through a surreal, shadowy landscape where fear takes on a life of its own. The result is unsettling, heart-wrenching, and darkly humorous. 

Jasper’s world is both painfully ordinary and disturbingly strange. A lonely high schooler, picked on and bullied by his peers, Jasper’s anxieties manifest in ways he can’t control. His dreams turn violent, filled with a dark force that is determined to “claim him”. The more he tries to ignore the darkness, the more it presses in.

The narrative takes a surreal turn when Jasper’s nightmare seemingly comes to life to torment him, seeping into his waking world. It whispers to him, threatens him, and promises something he can’t quite understand. As his grip on reality begins to waver, Jasper is forced to confront the source of his fears. Is this darkness something external, or is it a part of him? 

Lightfoot’s portrayal of Jasper is both tender and authentic. The blending of reality and imagination, the uncanny bleeding into the everyday, serves as a metaphor for the internal battles many adolescents face. Jasper’s nightmares aren’t just supernatural – they’re fears of growing up, magnified and distorted. 

Lightfoot’s greatest strength is her ability to capture the fragile, liminal space between childhood and adulthood. Jasper is old enough to know that life isn’t fair, but not yet old enough to accept it. Jasper’s perspective – equal parts cynical and vulnerable – makes him an easy character for young people to relate to and connect with. His fears feel real because they are real, even when they take on nightmarish forms.

The supporting cast of characters are equally well-crafted. Jasper’s mother, though well-meaning, struggles to understand her son’s growing distress. His father, largely absent, casts a shadow over Jasper’s understanding of himself. The dynamics between Jasper and his mother’s new boyfriend are depicted with nuance and sensitivity to reflect the often-complicated tension within blended families. 

 The novel is imbued with a wicked sense of humor that brings light to the heavier themes. Lightfoot's sharp wit shines through Jasper's inner monologues and interactions, providing moments of absurdity and levity that keep the story from becoming overwhelmingly bleak. Jasper is self-aware, sometimes painfully so, and his observations about the world around him are simultaneously heartbreaking and laugh-out-loud funny.

Bear is a must-read for teenagers, particularly those who have ever struggled with anxiety, depression, or self-doubt. It also stands out as a valuable read for parents, educators, and anyone looking for a deeper understanding of how fear and uncertainty can shape and overwhelm a young person’s world. Fans of Patrick Ness and Neil Gaiman will feel right at home here.

Dark, funny, and deeply unsettling, Bear is a book that crawls under your skin and stays there. Lightfoot has crafted a story that is as haunting as it is human – a powerful, poignant reminder that sometimes, the only way to escape your fears is to face them. Reviewed by Imogen Gadd