Three incredible novels about migration and belonging

Plus, where to start with Alice Munro

Whether characters are fleeing conflict or embarking on a journey for a better life, there is something uniquely powerful about stories of migration and belonging. These themes have been explored time and time again in a myriad of forms and settings, but the following novels are three of my favourite examples…

Wandering Souls by Cecile Pin

Shortly after the end of the Vietnam war, Anh, Thanh and Minh get into a boat and leave their country behind in hope of a better life. Their parents and younger siblings, who follow in the next boat, don’t survive the same treacherous journey.

Wandering Souls is a devastatingly beautiful story which traces the splintered lives of the three orphaned siblings - first as they find themselves in refugee camps and then in Thatcher’s Britain. At once heart-shattering and hopeful, this is a gem of a novel.

Dominicana by Angie Cruz

Ana is only 15 when Juan, who is twice her age, announces he has chosen her to be his wife, and together they will emigrate from the Dominican Republic to New York. It doesn’t matter that she will never love him, that she has no desire to move to the States, and that she doesn’t speak the language. The only thing that matters is that it could be a ticket to a better future for her whole family.

Dominicana is a novel about finding your place in the world. It’s funny, heartbreaking and compassionate, and it reads easily and moves you even more so. I love this book an inordinate amount.

Small Island by Andrea Levy

When people ask me what my all-time favourite book is, I can never tell them a single one - but here is a novel which I will always mention. Described as ‘possibly the definitive fictional account of the Windrush generation’, Small Island taught me more about Britain’s recent history, inequality, prejudice, racism, love, belonging and shared humanity than anything ever has.

The novel revolves around Michael and Hortense, who emigrate to London from Jamaica in 1948, and Queenie Bligh, whose house they lodge in. Queenie is frowned upon by her neighbours for taking them in, but she doesn’t have any choice: her husband hasn’t returned since the war. Each of the characters’ stories are interwoven and it all comes together into this achingly good, funny, angry, tender book. I can’t tell you how much I treasure this novel: I’d sell my soul to read it for the first time again.

And finally…

I was so sad to hear about the passing of Canadian writer Alice Munro last week. I was first introduced to her short stories in a creative writing seminar at university; after all, there was no better example of perfectly crafted sentences and exquisitely constructed narratives to learn from. Although a revered ‘writer’s writer’, I’m not sure how widely known she is here in the UK. So, if you’ve never read any Munro, now is the time to do so, and Runaway is a good place to start.