Hannah & Huia

This review comes to you from a face full of tears and a nose full of snot.

I should caveat this by saying that having lost our Mum unexpectedly, nearly a year ago, any topic of grief is still very raw.

Hannah and Huia is a deft exploration of mental health, and the way in which people are so often left to wend their own way through its nightmarish mazes, or to simply get lost.

The author has incredibly deftly woven together two deeply heartbreaking stories of loss - the two women of the title.

Their two stories intertwine with such pain and poignancy, and incredibly heartbreaking loss that it's almost impossible to put the book down.

There's a beautiful emotional shift during the book, where Hannah starts off almost disconnected from events, and we almost read as an observer. She notes that at times she's watching her body perform functions without any real sensation. Later she feels, and we feel intensely with her.

During her time in a psychiatric ward, in an attempt to help her confront the nightmares from losing her husband and baby, she meets a variety of other people.

It's here that we see them the way she does, each as individuals with their own personalities and quirks. Yes, they all have mental health problems that need support — and the author does note that the staff are so often undersupported themselves — but she takes the time to flesh out the characters as people who deserve to be heard.

We meet Huia, an old Māori women, who's been in care for most of her life. Hannah stumbles across what seems to be a pattern in her behaviour and takes the time to listen to her.

Along the way, we see a portion of Huia's history that ties so many threads together. We see her come to life as more than just some random old woman in the corner, but as a vibrant young woman who has deep and intense hopes and dreams.

About 2/3 of the way through I found myself hoping for Hannah to find the success that she herself was hoping for, and hoping that the end of the book wasn't going to be some cruel crushing defeat.

A little after this, I began to cry with almost every page, and by the end I was a sobbing mess.

The whole story is wound together so beautifully, so deftly, and so sensitively. It's a story that I wholeheartedly recommend and only wish that my mother had been here to read, as she adored supporting local authors.

Get it. Read it. Be prepared for a whole lot of tears.