Chapter 9 Summary and Analysis

⚠️ Spoiler Warning: This guide contains detailed spoilers for the entire novel. Proceed only if you've finished reading or are comfortable knowing the plot.

Summary

The chapter opens on a Saturday night as the narrator arrives at the woman's mother's house to collect his hoody. The visit stems from a missed meeting: he and the woman had planned to see each other before her return to Dublin, but a Sunday in February brought train cancellations that made the meeting impossible. Now he is here alone, and the woman's absence feels more pronounced than her presence ever did.

Her mother welcomes him warmly, offering tea and biscuits. He takes chocolate digestives and dips one into his Earl Grey. They settle in front of the television, watching the Winter Olympics—first bobsleigh, then curling, which her mother dismisses as a ridiculous sport even as they both watch.

The mother retrieves the hoody from elsewhere in the house and lays it across a chair. She asks what he has been doing, and he explains that he spent the day with Roy DeCarava's The Sound I Saw, a book of photographs, and Zadie Smith's NW, a novel he returns to often. Her mother says she loves Smith's writing, and this prompts the narrator to recall meeting Smith the previous summer.

At a book signing, he presented his battered copy of NW. Smith, wearing a brown headwrap and gold hoops, sensed his awkwardness and steered the conversation. She asked where his family was from; he said Ghana, and she mentioned her mother had briefly married a Ghanaian. When he asked what happened, she said some things aren't meant to work out. He tried to explain what the book meant to him, noting the similarities between his south-east London and her north-west. When he mentioned Catford, Smith said her grandmother had lived there and she had spent much of her childhood there. He was unable to say more, unable to articulate how the book's illustrations of desire and its essay on unhappy endings—where the person left behind is often a young Black man—resonated with him.

Her mother's interest is piqued by his mention of writing. He explains that he is trying to supplement his photography with another form of storytelling. Her mother then offers a piece of wisdom: there are only two plot devices in writing—a stranger comes to town, or a person goes on a journey—and all good work is a variation of these.

The narrator ponders this as he leaves. He wonders about NW, a book in which no one wins. He wonders who the stranger is in his own life, who the familiar is, and what their journeys are. He hugs her mother briefly, riding an instinct, and notices she smells of petrichor—the smell of rain on dry earth—and of a place he might grow to call home.

Waiting for the bus in the darkness, he pulls on the hoody. It smells like the woman—sweet, like a torn flower petal, like lavender in summer bloom. He puts on headphones and listens to Kelsey Lu's Church, an EP of orchestral loops. With his eyes closed, enveloped in her presence, which is heavier in her absence, he breathes easy.

Key Events

The narrator visits the woman's mother's house to collect his hoody after a planned meeting was cancelled by February train suspensions
They share tea and biscuits and watch the Winter Olympics together
The mother retrieves the hoody and places it on a chair
The narrator describes his day with Roy DeCarava's The Sound I Saw and Zadie Smith's NW
He recalls meeting Zadie Smith at a signing the previous summer, where they discussed Ghana, Catford, and her grandmother
The mother states that all writing relies on two plot devices: a stranger arriving in town, or a person going on a journey
The narrator hugs the mother briefly before leaving
At the bus stop, he wears the hoody, which smells of the woman, and listens to Kelsey Lu's Church

Character Development

The narrator reveals his artistic identity more fully in this chapter. He is a photographer who is exploring writing as a complementary form of storytelling. His reverence for Zadie Smith's work—and his inability to articulate what it means to him—shows both his depth of feeling and his vulnerability. His awkwardness at the signing, his brief hug with the mother, and his quiet moment at the bus stop all reveal a young man navigating connection and solitude.

The woman's mother emerges as a warm, perceptive figure. She welcomes the narrator without hesitation, offers him tea and biscuits, and engages genuinely with his artistic interests. Her observation about the two plot devices is both a piece of literary wisdom and a subtle commentary on the narrator's own situation. Her smell of petrichor suggests a groundedness and a potential home for him.

The woman is absent throughout but present in every way—through the hoody, through her smell, through the mother's hospitality, through the narrator's longing. Her absence is described as heavier than her presence, a recurring motif in the chapter.

Themes, Symbols, or Motifs

Absence and presence: The chapter's central tension. The woman's absence is more palpable than her presence ever was, and the narrator carries her with him through the hoody and its scent.

The hoody as keepsake: The hoody is a physical object that holds the woman's presence. Wearing it at the bus stop, the narrator is enveloped in her, even though she is in Dublin.

Art as storytelling: The chapter weaves together photography (DeCarava), fiction (Smith), and music (Kelsey Lu) as different modes of understanding and expressing experience. The narrator's own attempt to supplement photography with writing reflects this theme.

The two plot devices: The mother's observation—a stranger comes to town, or a person goes on a journey—frames the narrator's own situation. He is both a stranger in the mother's house and a person on a journey. The novel itself can be read through this lens.

The stranger and the familiar: The narrator wonders who is the stranger and who is the familiar in his life. The mother's house is unfamiliar, yet it smells like home.

The journey motif: The narrator's journey to the mother's house, the woman's journey to Dublin, and the metaphorical journeys of the characters all echo the mother's two plot devices.

Petrichor and smell: The smell of petrichor on the mother and the smell of the woman on the hoody connect memory, home, and belonging through scent.

Unhappy endings: The narrator's recollection of Smith's essay—that someone is always left behind, often a young Black man—foreshadows the novel's own trajectory and the narrator's fears.

Why This Chapter Matters

This chapter deepens the narrator's connection to the woman's family while he is separated from her, and it crystallizes several of the novel's central concerns. The mother's two plot devices provide a lens through which to read the entire book: the narrator is a stranger in a new town, and he is also on a journey—toward the woman, toward home, toward understanding himself. The chapter also develops the narrator's artistic identity, showing him as a photographer and aspiring writer who finds resonance in the work of DeCarava and Smith. The meeting with Zadie Smith, recalled here, connects the narrator's personal experience to a broader literary conversation about Black London life and unhappy endings. Finally, the closing scene at the bus stop—the hoody, the music, the breathing easy—is one of the novel's most tender moments, capturing the narrator's capacity for quiet joy even in absence.

Study Questions and Answers

1. How does the mother's statement about two plot devices apply to the novel as a whole?

The mother's observation—that all writing relies on either a stranger coming to town or a person going on a journey—can be read as a key to the novel's structure. The narrator is both a stranger in the woman's world (and in London more broadly) and a person on a journey toward connection, understanding, and home. The woman's journey to Dublin and back is another iteration of the same device. The novel itself is a variation on both plot devices, and the narrator's own pondering of who is the stranger and who is the familiar suggests he is aware of this framing.

2. What does the hoody represent in this chapter?

The hoody is a physical object that carries the woman's presence. It smells like her—sweet, like a torn flower petal, like lavender in summer bloom—and wearing it at the bus stop allows the narrator to feel enveloped by her even though she is in Dublin. The hoody functions as a keepsake, a way of holding onto someone in their absence. It also connects to the chapter's broader theme of absence and presence: the woman is absent, but her presence is carried through this object.

3. How does the recalled meeting with Zadie Smith illuminate the narrator's sense of identity?

The meeting with Smith reveals several layers of the narrator's identity. He is a young Black man from south-east London who sees his own experience reflected in Smith's writing about north-west London. The conversation about Ghana, Catford, and Smith's grandmother creates a sense of shared history and place. Smith's essay about unhappy endings—that someone is always left behind, and that someone is often a young Black man—resonates deeply with the narrator, suggesting both his awareness of the risks he faces and his fear about how his own story might end. The meeting also shows his vulnerability: he is awkward, overwhelmed, unable to articulate what the book means to him, yet the encounter is meaningful precisely because of that difficulty.