Braithwaite braids these three women’s stories into a narrative that unfolds gracefully even as it leaps backwards and forwards in time. But despite the novel’s decades-spanning scope, its story feels oddly static, even claustrophobic ... But...musings do gesture at a meaningful idea.
Keenly awaited ... Braithwaite displays pacey storytelling, nuanced characterisation and sharp dialogue, and has female familial relations as her story’s engine ... [An] ambitious family saga ... A few quibbles: the end feels rushed and the sketchy depiction of some of the secondary male characters, such as Tolu, risks making them feel superfluous. But, overall, this is an intriguing, enjoyably immersive page-turner and a markedly different novel from Braithwaite’s bold debut.
Braithwaite salts her world with enough echoes and omens to keep the uncanny alive ... or all its sprites and portents, it resolves into a familiar domestic melodrama, and a reasonably sedate one. Yet its ambitions are hefty: braiding Yoruba folklore with Lagos gossip, kitchen-sink drama with social critique, ghostly prophecies with self-fulfilling ones, the book tells women’s stories that reach far beyond themselves. The weight of these ambitions is palpable, but so is a new sense of poise. It is the curse of big sisters everywhere: to carry the burden and make it look light.
Braithwaite writes in plain, accessible prose and Lagos is affectionately portrayed ... Her strength lies in vivid characterisation: the women are headstrong, flawed and compelling, even if their trajectory is occasionally predictable. Elements of magical realism are skilfully woven into the narrative, and her trademark dark humour is evident, particularly in the tensions between tradition and superstition. She invites readers to laugh at rituals her characters take seriously ... Braithwaite’s second novel is almost twice the length of her first, more diffuse and delivers less of a sucker punch. But here again is her lightness of touch and her distinctive interpretation of female agency and its absence. Cursed Daughters is compulsive reading.
Grounded and honest ... A virtuosic tour de force in carefully-constructed storytelling ... The family saga is both ambitiously sprawling and narrow in scope ... Rendered in propulsive third-person prose and short, breezy chapters ... An evocative use of zeugma ... It’s a story that sucks you into its world. ... I found Monife’s backstory the most compelling and emotionally affecting ... Perhaps Braithwaite’s greatest achievement is the deft blending of humor and gravity ... Braithwaite’s novel proves itself to be a haunting meditation on moral ambiguity ... I wished our characters were defined further beyond their relationships to men ... Nonetheless enchanting, sparkling with wit and tactfully straddling reality and the supernatural.
Captivating ... Braithwaite bravely embraces Nigerian superstitions, including those considered taboo, and writes with such warmth that readers will root for every woman in the book, flaws and all. Once again, Braithwaite has created a tale that lingers in the mind long after the novel is read.
A story drenched in supernatural unease and yet bursting with love; a tale that embraces the power of superstition, even as it fights to rid itself from it ... [A] stellar novel.
