Shortlisted for The Desmond Elliott Award
Shortlisted for The James Tait Black Prize
Shortlisted for the Dundee International Book Prize
“Fagan has created a feisty, brass-knuckled yet deeply vulnerable heroine, who feels like sort of a cross between Lisbeth Salander, Stieg Larsson’s Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and one of Irvine Welsh’s drug-taking Scottish miscreants from Trainspotting or Skagboys. Her novel is by turns gritty, unnerving, exhausting, [and] ferocious...A deeply felt and genuinely affecting novel.” —Michiko Kakutani, New York Times
“Fagan has given us one of the most spirited heroines to cuss, kiss, bite and generally break the nose of the English novel in many a moon...there is no resisting the tidal rollout of Fagan’s imagery. Her prose beats behind your eyelids, the flow of images widening to a glittering delta whenever Anais approaches the vexed issue of her origins...vive Jenni Fagan...whose next book just moved into my ‘eagerly anticipated’ pile.” —Tom Shone, New York Times Book Review
“[Fagan] grew up in what’s euphemistically called ‘the care system,’ and she writes about these young people with a deep sympathy for their violently disordered lives and an equally deep appreciation of their humor and resiliency...[Fagan has a] rousing voice, with its roundly rendered Scottish accent.” —Ron Charles, Washington Post
“A classic coming-of-age tale.” —Boston Globe
“Fagan’s style calls to mind fellow Scottish writer Anthony Burgess, whose novel A Clockwork Orange used similar lexicographic liberties to reinforce a theme of teenage dystopia.” —The Daily Beast
“[A] terrific portrait of a young criminal...Fagan makes this ugly life somehow beautiful.”—Alan Cheuse, NPR
“The Panopticon [is] a terrifically gritty and vivid debut.” —Cleveland Plain Dealer
“She’s Oliver, with a twist. Anais Hendricks, 15, and the female protagonist of poetess Fagan’s first novel, cuts right to the chase as she chronicles the modern British foster care system.” —New York Post
“The Panopticon is like its protagonist: tough as old boots and always ready with the fists, but likely to steal your heart if you’ll just slow down and listen.” —National Post
“[A] fabulously sharp-elbowed debut novel...Not since Jonathan Safran Foer’s Extremely Loud have we met such motor-mouthed metaphysics. Layered with repetitions, peppered with hallucinations, The Panopticon reads like the monologue of a poet for whom words are bricks, they are arrows, they are, when well chosen, the way out.” —Minneapolis Star Tribune
“Fagan creates a complex and vulnerable character...[and] even though Anais makes it hard for you to love her, you can’t help wishing her out of her plight and cheering her upward.” —Bust (four stars)
“The Panopticon is an exquisite first novel—Jenni Fagan has created a dark, disturbing, yet ultimately hopeful portrait of a young woman growing up alone in the Scottish foster care system. To say it is haunting is an understatement—I kept wanting to set a place for Anais at the table with the rest of my children.” —Vanessa Diffenbaugh, New York Times bestselling author of The Language of Flowers
“Jenni Fagan has created a high-resolution portrait of a throwaway kid. Fifteen-year-old Anais, born in a mental ward, tumbled through the social work system, violated and violent, high on whatever, each decision she makes is a jaunty wave as she sails past the next point of no return. This is a contemporary tragedy of the highest order." —Carol Anshaw, New York Times bestselling author of Carry the One
“In the Margaret Atwood/The Handmaid’s Tale vein—very literary and suspenseful. I like books set in an altered reality—one that feels familiar and yet also deeply unfamiliar, that embodies some of the dailiness of life, and yet slowly reveals itself to be a very different, much more sinister place.” —Gillian Flynn, Oprah.com
"With The Panopticon, Fagan makes Foucault proud and readers ecstastic. This is why we read. You'll begin wanting to save Anais Hendricks but finish wondering if, and how, she's managed to save you." —Tupelo Hassman, author of Girlchild
“Jenni Fagan is the real thing, and The Panopticon is a real treat: maturely alive to the pains of maturing, and cleverly amused as well as appalled by what it finds in the world.” —Andrew Motion
“Ferocious and devastating, The Panopticon sounds a battle-cry on behalf of the abandoned, the battered, and the betrayed. To call it a good novel is not good enough: this is an important novel, a book with a conscience, a passionate challenge to the powers-that-be. Jenni Fagan smashes every possible euphemism for adolescent intimacy and adolescent violence, and she does it with tenderness and even humour. Hats off to Jenni Fagan! I will be recommending this book to everyone I know.” —Eleanor Catton, author of The Rehearsal
“This is a wonderful book—gripping and brilliant. Anais’s journey will break your heart and her voice is unforgettable. Bursting with wit, humanity and beauty as well as an unflinching portrayal of life as a ‘cared for’ young adult, this book will not let you go.” —Kate Williams
“Best debut novel I've read this year.” —Irvine Welsh
“Uncompromising and courageous...one of the most cunning and spirited novels I’ve read for years. The story of Anais, a fifteen-year-old girl blasting her way through the care-home system while the system in turn blasts her away to nothing, looks on the surface to be work of a recognizable sort, the post-Dickensian moral realism/fabulism associated with writers like Irvine Welsh. But Fagan’s narrative talent is really more reminiscent of early Camus and that this novel is a debut is near unbelievable. Tough and calm, electrifying and intent, it is an intelligent and deeply literary novel which deals its hope and hopelessness simultaneously with a humaneness, both urgent and timeless, rooted in real narrative subtlety.” —Ali Smith, Times Literary Supplement—books of the year
“If you’re trying to find a novel to engage a determinedly illiterate teenager, give them this one. Anais, the 15-year-old heroine and narrator, has a rough, raw, joyous voice that leaps right off the page and grabs you by the throat...This punkish young philosopher is struggling with a terrible past, while battling sinister social workers. Though this will appeal to teenagers, the language and ideas are wholly adult, and the glorious Anais is unforgettable.” —The Times
“[A] confident and deftly wrought debut...The Panopticon is an example of what Martin Amis has called the “voice novel”, the success of which depends on the convincing portrayal of an idiosyncratic narrator. In this Fagan excels...Her voice is compellingly realised. We cheer her on as she rails against abusive boyfriends and apathetic social workers, her defiance rendered in a rich Midlothian brogue.” —Financial Times
“The most assured and intriguing first novel by a Scottish writer that I have read in a decade, a book which is lithely and poetically written, politically and morally brave and simply unforgettable...As a debut, The Panopticon does everything it should. It announces a major new star in the firmament.” —Stuart Kelly, Scotsman
“[The narrator] is engagingly drawn by Fagan, who has created a character possessed of intellectual curiosity and individual quirks...Written with great verve…Fagan has a clear voice, an unflinching feel for the complexity of the teenage mindset, and an awareness of the burden we impose on children...What’s intriguing here is her effort to lift the story of teen misadventure into a heightened realm of intellectual aspiration and quasi-sci-fi notions of sinister social change.” —Scotland on Sunday
“What Fagan depicts in her debut novel, The Panopticon, is a society in which people don't just fall through the net—there is no net...Fagan is writing about important stuff: the losers, the lonely, most of them women. [Anais] maintains a cool, smart, pretty, witty and wise persona.” —Guardian
“Reminiscent of Girl, Interrupted…The novel is as bold, shocking and intelligent as its central character...The institutional details (magnolia walls, screwed-down chairs) anchor The Panopticon in realism, giving it a greater bite. Much of Anais’ life is the stuff of tabloid shock stories and The Panopticon’s strength lies in giving you an insight into the lonely, damaged girl behind the headlines...This week’s winner.” —Stylist
“An indictment of the care system, this dazzling and distinctive novel has at its heart an unstoppable heroine...Fagan’s prose is fierce, funny and brilliant at capturing her heroine’s sparky smartness and vulnerability...Emotionally explosive.” —Marie Claire
“Fagan's writing is taut and controlled and the dialogue crackles.” —The Herald
This is the best debut I’ve read this year...and all because of the character of Anais, who is one of the best narrators I have ever come across. An essential read.” —Living North
“Anais’s story is one of abandonment, loss, and redemption, well suited for a paranoid age in which society finds itself constantly under the microscope.” —Publishers Weekly
“Dark and disturbing but also exciting and moving, thanks to a memorable heroine and vividly atmospheric prose…Fagan [paints] her battered characters’ fierce loyalty to each other with such conviction and surprising tenderness.” —Kirkus Reviews
“Told in Anais’ raw voice, Fagan’s novel peers into the world inhabited by forgotten children, and, in Anais, gives us a heartbreakingly intelligent and sensitive heroine wrapped in an impossibly impenetrable exterior. Readers won’t be able to tear themselves away from this transcendent debut.” —Booklist (starred review)
“Anais's ongoing internal dialog, her periodic reimagining of her life and situation, is entralling...James Kelman's How Late It Was, How Late meets Ken Kesey's One Flew Over the Cukoo's Nest. Not to be missed.” —Library Journal (starred review)
Critically acclaimed in Britain, Scottish writer Fagan's U.S. debut limns life in a last-resort residence for teen outcasts. Like everyone else in the Panopticon, 15-year-old Anais Hendricks has been in and out of foster care practically since birth. "[B]orn in a nuthouse to nobody that was ever seen again," she had her only successful foster placement with a prostitute later stabbed to death (Anais found the body). She's been sent to this facility, where the inmates are under constant surveillance, because she had a bad history with a policewoman who has been bludgeoned into a coma, and Anais--almost permanently whacked on whatever drug she can lay her hands on--can't explain why she has blood on her skirt. If the police can prove she did it, she'll be locked up full-time until she's 18; meanwhile, she enjoys the relative freedom of the Panopticon and forms intense bonds with other residents. Isla, whose self-cutting has worsened since she learned that she passed HIV to her twins, has a history grimly typical of the kids dumped here by an indifferent society. Anais, as her sympathetic support worker Angus notices, is stronger, smarter and more resilient than her hapless peers. Readers discern Anais' difference from her first-person narration, a tart rendering in savory Scottish dialect of her bitter perceptions of the world that has no use for her, embodied in what she calls "the experiment," a mysterious group to which she ascribes vaguely supernatural powers. It's probably a delusion (remember all those drugs), but we're never quite sure; an almost unrelievedly grim parade of events reinforces Anais's perception that some sinister force is arrayed against her and her friends. The tentative happy ending snatched from near-certain disaster might seem like wish fulfillment if Fagan had not painted her battered characters' fierce loyalty to each other with such conviction and surprising tenderness. Dark and disturbing but also exciting and moving thanks to a memorable heroine and vividly atmospheric prose.
