The Cellar

December 21, 2015
In this haunting short novel from Edgar-winner Walters (The Chameleon’s Shadow), Ebuka and Yetunde Songoli, a well-to-do African immigrant couple, live an unremarkable life in London, except that they keep a 14-year-old girl, Muna, locked in the cellar. It’s only after their 10-year-old son, Abiola, disappears on his way to school and the police are called that the Songolis are forced to pretend that Muna is their actual, though mentally disabled, daughter and move her to a real room. But Muna, who previously was only allowed to address the Songolis as Princess and Master, is quite able, despite not knowing how to read or write. As the police investigation grinds on, it becomes clear that Muna has plans of her own that don’t involve cooking, cleaning, or being sexually abused by Ebuka any longer. The violence, in keeping with the grim underpinnings of the tale, might be too much for some readers, but Walters nails a perfect blend of psychological suspense and social commentary that resonates long after the book is over. Agent: Jane Gregory, Gregory & Company Authors’ Agents (U.K.).

April 25, 2016
Walters’s nightmarish Cinderella story focuses on 14-year-old Muna, who was “rescued” from an orphanage by wealthy Ebuka and Yetunde Songoli when she was eight and has been enslaved by the couple ever since, including being beaten by the wife and raped by the husband. For the last six years, since the horrific Songolis moved from Nigeria to England, Muna has been kept in the cellar of their London townhouse, a situation that improves when the couple’s 10-year-old son goes missing. The arrival of a very observant policewoman forces them to present Muna as their mentally challenged daughter and move her to a real room. Most of the book’s dialogue is spoken by the members of the Songoli household, and reader Eyre’s Nigerian English seems authentic. She’s equally effective at finding a cool, no-
nonsense English voice for the policewoman. But the upper-class British accent with which she tells the novel’s story is so clipped it almost qualifies as parody. This distances the listener from Muna’s torturous situation and undercuts the book’s suspense. It also slightly buffers the graphic descriptions of violence and sexual abuse, which some may find a relief. A Grove/Atlantic/Mysterious hardcover.