This sharp, bleak debut satirises the current cultural moment through the life and loves of a cynical young writer
There is a long tradition of stories about artists that are also about the question of how to represent life in art; novels about artists with toxic female friendships are more unusual.
Enter Anika Jade Levy’s slim and sharp debut Flat Earth, which shares its title with a film made by a woman whom Avery, the narrator, identifies as her best friend. Frances is a rich and beautiful twentysomething who becomes a “reluctant celebrity in certain circles” after her film, “an experimental documentary about rural isolation and rightwing conspiracy theories” in the modern-day United States, premieres to critical acclaim at a gallery in New York. Avery, meanwhile, is struggling to write what she describes as “a book of cultural reports”.
Frances’s success isn’t easy for Avery. The two women met as undergraduates, but Avery hasn’t got family money. She maxes out her credit card and does occasional escort work to meet tuition payments. What makes her most resentful, though, is that Frances has dropped out of grad school to get married. Back in New York, panicked about her prospects, Avery goes out with a string of men – none significant enough to be referred to by their actual names – and ends up taking a job at a rightwing dating app called Patriarchy.
