In a recent interview, we had the opportunity to delve into Ali Smith’s latest work, “Gliff,” which serves as a compelling follow-up to her acclaimed seasonal quartet. The quartet has been celebrated for its insightful storytelling that reflects the state of the nation, culminating in 2022’s “Companion Piece.” As readers mourn the conclusion of this series, Smith has taken a bold step into a dystopian future, offering a fresh narrative that resonates with contemporary issues.

“Gliff” introduces us to Bri, a precocious non-binary teen who, along with their sister Rose, grapples with a hostile society that has reached alarming levels of totalitarianism. The backdrop is a Britain marked by exclusion, where Bri and Rose are classified as “Unverifiables.” This term signifies individuals who find themselves marginalized, either due to their nationality, race, or rebellious ideology fostered by their headstrong mother, who views smartphones as liabilities rather than tools for connection.

The rise of oppressive surveillance and bureaucracy paints a chilling landscape, as Bri and Rose navigate a world where their homes are marked and destroyed by the government. Throughout our conversation, Smith highlighted that the origins of this dystopia remain deliberately ambiguous, prompting readers to engage with the text and fill in the gaps from their own experiences.

Smith’s exploration of societal disconnect remains a recurring theme. As Bri observes, the divide between the wealthy and the impoverished has grown so vast that the affluent seem not to acknowledge the suffering of others. “It was like they all had their backs to me,” Bri reflects, capturing the isolation and alienation that permeate their world.

The narrative takes a poignant turn as we leap forward five years, where Bri has assumed the role of a factory supervisor. This new chapter reveals an even bleaker reality, with child laborers facing brutal conditions under an unyielding state. In navigating the oppressive system, Bri’s small acts of rebellion underscore the courage required to challenge totalitarianism.

“Gliff” also introduces a titular horse that symbolizes complexity and care. Bri muses about the horse’s many meanings and the idea that connection transcends language. It serves as a metaphor for the relationships we forge, even with those whose viewpoints may differ from our own.

Ultimately, the story imbues hope in Bri and Rose, representing their generation’s struggle and resilience. While Smith’s previous works may have functioned as a guide for contemporary existence, “Gliff” emerges as a stark warning, urging us to heed these lessons or face the consequences of complacency.

“Gliff” by Ali Smith is available from Hamish Hamilton, and its timely release offers both a reflection and a cautionary tale for readers navigating the complexities of the 21st century.