The Cactus by Sarah Haywood: Review

“Because I’m not reliant on anyone emotionally or financially, I can’t be hurt. That’s how a feminist is: iron-willed, Teflon-coated, in total control of every aspect of her life.”



At forty-five, Susan Green shares certain characteristics with the cactus plants she keeps on her desk - prickly and self-sufficient. She has her life arranged precisely how she wants it - her flat, her job, her personal life - and certainly has no intention of changing it. But when her mother dies - and leaves a will favouring her feckless brother Ed, causing Susan to immediately launch herself into battle - and at the same time Susan is confronted with the hitherto unimagined prospect of becoming a mother herself, her life starts changing in some very unexpected ways. What does it take for a cactus to finally bloom?

I loved the sound of this book, but it was a bit of a slow burner for me initially. Susan is not obviously very likeable, at least to start with. She comes over as judgemental, intolerant of others’ failings and apparently lacking in any warmth or humour, though I did like her independence and determination. As the story continued, though, I was drawn in and found it ultimately to be a very compelling and enjoyable read, and Susan a very engaging character.

The basic premise is not, in itself, that original - a woman who shuns any kind of vulnerability as a defence mechanism against being hurt, who gradually becomes more open to new experiences and connections with other people. However the story is very well executed and I grew to really care about Susan - my heart broke for her at times.

One advance reviewer described Susan as a cross between Don Tillman (The Rosie Project) and Bridget Jones. I can certainly see where the former comparison comes from - both highly rational, uncomprehending of others’ less rational choices, and lacking in social graces - but I’m afraid any similarities with the latter are completely lost on me. (And Susan would undoubtedly be appalled at the comparison.) To this reader, Susan is more reminiscent of Eleanor Oliphant.

Not all the characters are believable: Susan’s jolly-hockey-sticks friend Brigid is a caricature, though an amusing one - I don’t believe any modern forty-five year old woman routinely addresses another as “old girl”! I did like neighbour Kate, and Ed’s friend Rob. Aunt Sylvia and her fairly awful daughters are very convincingly drawn. I’ve definitely known Sylvias...

Although it was, as I’ve said, initially a bit of a slow burner, ultimately I loved this just as much as I’d hoped, and didn’t want it to end! (It’s perhaps unlikely, but a sequel would be lovely... I really do want to know what happens next.)

Thanks to the publishers and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review.