Autumn by Kate Mosse: Our Sussex Exclusive Review: A personal almanac of Sussex, memory and the quiet pleasure of paying attention.
The premise
Part of a series of four books celebrating the seasons, Autumn sees bestselling novelist Kate Mosse turn away from fiction and towards something altogether more personal. This is not quite memoir, nature writing, history or guidebook, although elements of all four find their way into its pages. Instead, Autumn unfolds as a seasonal almanac, moving through September, October and November and following the gradual transformation of the landscape as summer recedes and winter approaches.
At its heart is Sussex, and particularly the landscape around Mosse’s home in Chichester. But this is also a book about family, ageing, memory, belonging and the importance of noticing the places we inhabit.
The mission
Early in Autumn, Mosse writes that the book “chose” her. It is an appropriate description because this feels less like a book constructed around a grand argument than one allowed to grow from observation. Its mission, if it has one, seems to be deceptively simple: to pay attention. To savour life’s simple pleasures.
Mosse invites us to notice the shortening days, the changing trees, the rituals and traditions attached to the season and the histories embedded in familiar landscapes. In one of the busiest periods of her professional and personal life, autumn gives her permission to “stand and stare”. That idea becomes the quiet heartbeat of the book.
The review
Anyone expecting the sweeping historical storytelling of Mosse’s novels may initially be surprised by Autumn. This is a much smaller, quieter book and deliberately so. Its pleasures are found in small moments and accumulation. A walk takes the reader into the past. A tree prompts a memory. An autumn tradition opens a door onto folklore. In Mosse’s care, a bleak yet familiar scene (a bare tree or bramble) is not only transformed into something beautiful but becomes something to be enjoyed and savoured.
The Sussex that emerges is wonderfully specific and compelling. There is Fishbourne and the marshes around Chichester Harbour; Chichester Cathedral and the Bishop’s Palace Gardens; Kingley Vale and its ancient yews; the Centurion Way, Chanctonbury Ring, and the South Downs. And as you read, you start to yearn to visit these places and see them through Mosse’s eyes.
But these are not included as destinations to be ticked off. They form part of Mosse’s emotional geography. One of the most striking sentiments in the book is her acknowledgement that she was “made by Sussex” and is “held by Sussex”. It captures something that runs throughout Autumn: the idea that our relationship with landscape is reciprocal. We leave something of ourselves in the places we know and love, that is our legacy. But those places also shape us.
That sense of continuity also matters because this is also a book shadowed by loss and change. Mosse writes about caring, about her elderly mother-in-law Granny Rose, about parents who are no longer there and grandchildren who represent another generation coming through. The natural cycle of autumn (abundance followed by decline) provides an understated backdrop to those reflections without the metaphor needing to be forced.
There is plenty of curiosity too. We encounter Michaelmas and the autumn equinox, apple snow and sloe gin, the tradition of “telling the bees”, ancient yews and Sussex folklore. Mosse takes us with her to Lewes Bonfire and reflects on the celebrations of her childhood. Elsewhere, the landscape opens questions about climate, including the extraordinary rise of Sussex wine. The result is a book that frequently sends you away wanting to know more.
Mosse’s approach to walking is particularly revealing. She walks without filling the silence with headphones or other distractions. Walking becomes a way of thinking and observing, an opportunity to allow ideas to arrive rather than relentlessly pursuing them.
It encapsulates the book itself. There is no breathless attempt to show us everything. Autumn wanders. Occasionally it digresses. But that is part of its charm. This is a book to dip into, put down, think about and return to. Perhaps most importantly, it makes the familiar feel worthy of attention. By the final pages, Autumn has become something more than a celebration of one season. It is an argument and a road map, albeit a gentle one, for living attentively: noticing what changes, valuing what remains and recognising that our time within any landscape is brief.
It reminded me to look again at places I thought I knew. And perhaps that is exactly what a book about autumn should do.
Sussex Exclusive verdict
A beautiful, thoughtful and intimate love letter to autumn and to Sussex, best read slowly, preferably after a long walk. A book to keep on your coffee table and dip into often, particularly on those days when fading light and colder weather get you down.
About the author
Kate Mosse OBE is an internationally bestselling novelist, playwright and non-fiction writer, best known for her multi-million-selling Languedoc Trilogy, which includes Labyrinth. A champion of women’s writing, she is the co-founder of the Women’s Prize for Fiction and founder of the Women’s Prize for Non-Fiction. Kate has deep roots in Sussex and divides her time between Chichester and Carcassonne in southwest France. Her latest book, Autumn, is part of the acclaimed Seasons series and is a personal celebration of the landscapes, traditions, memories and changing rhythms of the season.
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