Jenny Tinkley lives to mother her two complicated sons and prop up her technology-obsessive husband, Hank, who has installed gadgets, cameras and voice-recognition devices in their smart house. He tells her it's all designed to help her, but she is convinced their home is judging her - reminding her to load the laundry, buy milk, do better - and she becomes paranoid that she's being spied upon by the white goods. When she hears of an outreach opportunity at her church (where worshippers are encouraged to confess their sins via mobile phone), she feels that hand-writing letters to John, inmate 6587 at Flainton Correctional Facility, will be an antidote to her high-tech isolation and a kindness to someone who is perhaps lonelier than herself. And Hank needn't know. 

Letter by letter, John pinches Jenny awake from the marshmallow numbness of her life. In their exchanges she expresses tenderness, unexpected affection. Constantly under surveillance, their letters chart a secret rebellion, a bid for freedom. But Jenny is becoming curiously dependent on the sweet orange glue that seals John's envelopes, and their lives begin to converge with toxic consequences.

Love Orange throws open the blinds of American life, showing a family facing up to the modern age, from the ascendancy of technology, the predicaments of masculinity, the pathologising of children, the epidemic of opioid addiction and the tyranny of the WhatsApp Gods. The first novel by the acclaimed translator is a comic cocktail, an exuberant skewering of contemporary anxieties and prejudices.