Broken Rooms is both a memoir and a novel, though it never settles quietly into one category. It tells the story of Sebastian Cole, a gifted mathematician from Sheffield who stumbles into the world of design, beauty, and wealth through a fateful meeting with Lady Judy Beardsley. What begins as weekend tutoring spirals into an immersion in luxury, power, and temptation. The book follows him through grand houses in London, decadent travels, passionate but destructive relationships, and the search for authenticity in a life caught between duty, desire, and dreams. This is a story about reinvention. It is about the tension between longing for beauty and grappling with the shadows of shame, heartbreak, and secrecy.

Reading it, I felt pulled into Sebastian’s inner world in a way that was both thrilling and heartbreaking. The writing is lush, almost cinematic, full of detail about fabrics, food, interiors, and scents. Sometimes, I caught myself pausing just to savor the descriptions of a chandelier or the taste of a Tarte Tatin. At other times, the excess weighed on me, the same way Sebastian is weighed down by the very luxuries he covets. I found myself admiring the author’s ability to weave emotion into objects, to make a velvet curtain or a marble foyer feel like characters themselves. Yet I also wrestled with frustration at Sebastian’s self-sabotage, at his naivety, at his constant return to toxic people who drained him. That tension kept me hooked, even when I wanted to shout at him to run in the opposite direction.

On a personal level, I connected with the book’s exploration of longing and identity. The novel is about design, yes, but beneath the wallpaper and chandeliers, it is about a man trying to carve out a place for himself in a world that doesn’t quite accept him. That struggle felt raw and real. There were moments that made me laugh, and others that left me sitting in silence, heavy with empathy. At times, I found the prose almost indulgent, yet that indulgence mirrors Sebastian’s journey. It is the language of someone intoxicated by beauty, love, and possibility, even when those things unravel. The book made me think not only about art and design, but also about how we all build rooms, real and emotional, to house our deepest desires.

Broken Rooms is not for everyone. Its pace lingers, its details are rich to the point of decadence, and its protagonist can be both magnetic and exasperating. But for readers who appreciate personal storytelling dressed in velvet and candlelight, who want to be transported into salons and safaris while also being invited into the quiet ache of the heart, this book will be a gift. I’d recommend it to lovers of memoir, design, travel writing, and anyone who has ever chased beauty while carrying their own brokenness.

Pages: 340 | ASIN : B0FNWB1LZL