A deeply human story about relationships

If you look at the cover of this book you'd be forgiven for thinking it's about women getting one over on sexually exploitative men. If you discover it's about Bonobos and you know anything about them AND you looked at the cover, you'd wonder if it was something you'd want to read at all. In my view, this cover does the book no favours at all; neither sexually provocative nor voyeuristic, this is a deeply human story about relationships and inter-species commonalities in empathy and attachment that unfolds following a catastrophic loss of communication technology. Frankie is the main character, a woman with her own history of difference whose research into Bonobo behaviour is careful, observational, and objective. In particular, she observes their well-documented sexual behaviour and notes a difference between both the indiscriminate variety that precedes feeding (and reduces competition for the food) and the kind that occurs at oestrus when a female is most likely to become pregnant. From this comes the theory of bastards which is predicated on the females' apparently differing choices of mates for ostensible sex and those for reproductive sex.

Very soon though, the Bonobos become co-lead characters, particularly the formidable matriarch, Momma, and the small group around her of younger females, juveniles, and the outlier males. Frankie's work takes her closer than the rules allow but she is not reckless and her observations pay off in advancing and deepening both her understanding of these apes and her relationship with them.

Following a dust storm which wipes out technology which is only slightly ahead of our own today, there comes a point where Frankie, the man she's fallen in love with (don't expect any violins), and the Bonobos have to leave the research facility and make their way in a world that appears newly feral and dependent on more primitive resources than any experienced in recent generations.

But as with the romantic violins, don't expect any Mad Max apocalyptic scenes, zombies, or rogue elements running riot while Our Brave Heroine tries to keep her pet apes together, this is a story of inter-dependence, learning from each other and becoming more human, humane, and empathically related than any research programme could possibly offer. The research elements though, sound convincing to my memory of studies of animal behaviour but they ground and propel the story rather than interfering with its tone of growing respect and mutuality.

I found this to be a beautifully written and expertly narrated novel - give or take the odd mispronunciation of British place names - that develops layered and relatable love stories without the vengeful or cloying sentimentality its cover might suggest.

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