An Eastern Cape giant cycad housed in the Palm House at Kew Gardens in London has survived for over 240 years. Since its arrival by ship from South Africa centuries ago, it has spent most of its existence in a container, earning the title—per the Kew Gardens website—of “the oldest pot plant in the world.” Though the distinction may seem unflattering for a plant species that has thrived for 250 million years, this specimen has adapted to its confined space, its fronds curling toward the ribbed dome of the greenhouse. The website notes its resilience with a touch of humor, describing it as propped up on crutches “like some senior citizens.”

In The Palm House, the latest novel by British author Gwendoline Riley, the narrator, a writer named Laura Miller in her forties, briefly references this ancient cycad. She plans to visit the Palm House with her friend Edmund Putnam and his father, describing the plant as a “living fossil” and a relic of another era—a sentiment that resonates with Putnam, who laments, “Ah, the passing of time!” as they stroll through London.

Riley’s prose is sharp and evocative, blending wit with vivid imagery. She compares a “dark yellow sky” to iodine and describes a washed-up writer’s prose as resembling “a tip-toeing cartoon burglar.” Her ability to capture character extends to subtle gestures, such as a man who “haul[s] his shoulders back, like a precocious little ice skater, zooming to a halt before a camera.” Dialogue in her novels unfolds in fragmented exchanges rather than polished repartee, revealing characters through their own words in a rhythm that feels both natural and revealing.

While Riley’s novels are not subtle in their thematic focus, they collectively explore recurring concerns through narrators who often feel like variations of one another. Her debut novels, published when she was in her early twenties, were set in Manchester and centered on young women navigating bars and troubled relationships. Her subsequent works shifted to the United States but retained familiar elements: domineering fathers and emotionally complex mothers. These themes are especially prominent in First Love (2017) and My Phantoms (2021), both of which received widespread acclaim and were simultaneously published in the U.S. by New York Review Books in 2022.

First Love offers a harrowing portrayal of Neve’s marriage to an older man who subjects her to relentless criticism and belittlement. The claustrophobic kitchen table scenes are made bearable—if that’s the right word—by Riley’s keen eye for detail and her narrator’s unwavering empathy for herself and others. My Phantoms, on the other hand, delves into the fraught relationship between the narrator, Bridget, and her mother, Hen.

In a 2017 interview, Riley reflected on her recurring themes, stating, “In all of my books so far, there is a woman looking at her life.” This introspective lens defines The Palm House, where the ancient cycad serves as a poignant symbol of endurance and the relentless march of time.