Category: Reviews

The Hill in the Dark Grove by Liam Higginson

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This is a beautifully written debut novel set in rural Wales. It’s described as ‘folk horror’ but if that doesn’t appeal to you, don’t worry as I found this an unsettling book rather than a scary one.

Carywn and Rhian are a married couple in their sixties who own a sheep farm in the mountains of North Wales. It’s a difficult life but it’s the only one Carwyn has ever known and one that Rhian adapted to many years earlier. The farm is remote and lonely, the winters cold and harsh, but for the most part the couple are happy together – until the day Carwyn discovers an ancient head carved from granite buried in one of the fields on his land. As he continues to dig, he unearths bones, beads and arrowheads, and finally a megalithic stone circle. For reasons Carwyn can barely explain even to himself, he’s reluctant to share what he has found with the authorities; he can’t bear the thought of the head being taken to a museum, of archaeologists and tourists descending on the site. The stones, he tells himself, belong to him, to the land, to Wales.

As winter arrives and snow begins to fall, Carwyn becomes more and more obsessed with the ancient relics, continuing to dig and neglecting his work on the farm. Rhian, however, doesn’t have the same enthusiasm and as their relationship becomes increasingly strained, she begins to feel that she’s married to someone she no longer knows and doesn’t like.

The Hill in the Dark Grove, as I’ve said, is an unsettling novel, with a sense of foreboding that builds and builds as the story progresses. It’s obvious that nothing good is going to come of Carwyn’s single-minded obsessiveness and our sympathies are with Rhian as she’s forced to accept that the kind, gentle man she loves has now been replaced by a stranger. Although they do occasionally cross paths with other human beings – two hikers lost in the mountains; a neighbour Rhian meets at the livestock market in town; the bailiffs who come to speak to them about their debts – for most of the novel Carwyn and Rhian are alone together on their farm. The isolation and loneliness of their situation adds to the atmosphere, particularly as the bad weather closes in and Rhian starts to feel trapped and friendless.

Liam Higginson writes beautifully, but I found the book overly descriptive, which slowed things down to the point where my attention started to wander. There are also a lot of flashbacks to earlier times in Carwyn and Rhian’s lives and I felt that these happpened too often, breaking up the flow of the story. I did love one of these flashbacks, though: a wonderful passage describing the midwinter tradition of the Mari Lywd – a procession led by a skeletal horse – and the impression this makes on the five-year-old Rhian. If you enjoy reading about Welsh folklore and superstition there’s plenty of that in this novel, along with lots of details of sheep farming and an element of Welsh nationalism (the decline in use of the Welsh language, the properties being bought up by wealthy English people as second homes).

I didn’t love this book as much as I would have liked to, but as a first novel it’s quite impressive and I’ll be looking out for more from this author in the future.

Thanks to Picador for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Silver Branch by Rosemary Sutcliff

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After reading Rosemary Sutcliff’s The Eagle of the Ninth a few years ago, the first book in her Dolphin Ring Cycle, I wasn’t sure which one to read next. I was advised that it wouldn’t really matter as the books are all separate stories, but as I’m interested in reading all of them anyway, I decided to continue with the one listed next chronologically, which is The Silver Branch.

First published in 1957, The Silver Branch is set in Roman Britain more than a century after the events of The Eagle of the Ninth. The two main characters, Justin and Flavius, are descendants of Marcus Flavius Aquila, which provides the link between the two books. Towards the end of the 3rd century, Justin (Tiberius Lucius Justinianus) completes his apprenticeship as an army surgeon and is posted to Britain for the first time. Arriving at the fort of Rutupiae in Kent, he meets the centurion Flavius (Marcelus Flavius Aquila) and the two discover that they are distant cousins.

The Roman military commander Carausius has recently declared himself emperor of Britain and North Gaul. When the cousins overhear Allectus, the finance minister, plotting against Carausius, they try to warn the emperor but he seems reluctant to believe them and instead they find themselves sent north to Magnis, a fort near Hadrian’s Wall, apparently in disgrace. Worse still, they have now made an enemy of the powerful Allectus, who still has his sights set on the throne…

Although I thought The Eagle of the Ninth was the stronger book, I enjoyed this one as well. I knew nothing at all about this particular period of Roman history so I was able to learn a lot from it, not just about the historical and military events, but also about life in general in Roman Britain during and after Carausius’s reign. This is all described in vivid detail, making the novel completely immersive, and Sutcliff never talks down to the reader – it’s marketed as a children’s book, but it doesn’t actually feel like one and it definitely has a lot to offer readers of all ages.

Not all of the characters are Roman – for example, we meet Evicatos of the Spear, an exiled Dalriad hunter (Dalriada was an ancient Gaelic kingdom from western Scotland/north-eastern Ireland) – and although it’s a very male dominated story, Flavius’s great-aunt Honoria has an important role to play. The main focus of the book, though, is always on our two young protagonists and I found both of them very easy to like, particularly the shy, quiet Justin who grows as a person through his relationship with the more confident Flavius. It’s as much a story of male friendship as it is of the politics of Roman Britain.

If you’re wondering about the ‘silver branch’ of the title, it refers not to a tree but to an unusual musical instrument with silver apples on it belonging to Cullen, the emperor Carausius’s Fool, an eccentric man who calls himself a hound and wears a dog’s tail. The silver branch is a motif that appears several times throughout the novel, along with the dolphin signet ring, an Aquila family heirloom, and the lost eagle standard of the Ninth Legion.

This is book 50/50 from my second Classics Club list. Yes, I’ve completed it at last!

Venetian Vespers by John Banville

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So far my experience of John Banville’s writing has been limited to Prague Nights, one of his mystery novels published under the pseudonym Benjamin Black. I’ve been meaning to try more of his books and when I saw this one, I was immediately drawn to it by the title and the beautiful cover (I love a Venetian setting).

Venetian Vespers is set at the turn of the 20th century and begins with writer Evelyn Dolman and his wife Laura on their way to Venice for a belated honeymoon – the reason for the delay is that Laura’s father died just after their marriage. Evelyn had been expecting Laura to inherit her father’s fortune, but due to some sort of conflict that Evelyn doesn’t fully understand, his father-in-law left everything to his other daughter instead. This is disappointing for Evelyn – but then, their whole marriage has been a disappointment so far and isn’t showing any signs of improving.

On their first night in Venice, Evelyn meets Frederick FitzHerbert, a man who claims to have been at school with him, although Evelyn can’t remember him at all. He doesn’t like to admit this, though, so falls into conversation with Freddie and is introduced to his beautiful sister, Francesca. Returning drunk to the palazzo near St Mark’s Square where he and Laura are staying, Evelyn behaves so badly towards his wife that when he wakes up in the morning she has disappeared. Despite feeling ashamed of himself, he makes no real attempt to find Laura, too distracted by thoughts of Francesca. But are Francesca and her brother really who they say they are and what do they want with Evelyn?

It’s obvious to the reader from early on that the FitzHerberts are con artists of some sort, but what we don’t know is what they’re hoping to achieve or why they’ve picked Evelyn as their target. We also don’t know what has happened to Laura, so there’s plenty of tension and mystery. However, the whole novel is narrated by Evelyn from a point in the future, which means there’s lots of foreshadowing and comments like “looking back, I can see” and “If I’d known then what I know now” and I found this a bit annoying. Also, all the foreshadowing and hinting meant I spent most of the book waiting for something dramatic to happen and when it eventually did, very late in the book, I felt slightly let down.

The book is beautifully written, though! Banville uses language appropriate to the period, with every word and phrase carefully chosen so that you could almost imagine it was written in an earlier time. It’s also extremely atmospheric. I love Venice but have only been there in the summer, in hot, sunny weather; Evelyn is there in the winter and the Venice he describes is a gloomy, sinister, forbidding place – “that place of glancing lights, distorting reflections, looming shadows”. It’s the perfect backdrop for the unpleasant, unlikeable characters (even our narrator is an awful person).

Although I couldn’t quite manage to love this book, I enjoyed it more than the other one I read by Banville and was captivated by the haunting portrayal of Venice and the tense, unsettling atmosphere. An ideal read for cold, dark evenings.

Thanks to Faber & Faber for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Book of Human Skin by Michelle Lovric – #DoorstoppersInDecember

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I loved Michelle Lovric’s The True and Splendid History of the Harristown Sisters – it was one of my books of the year in 2014, the year it was published – and I’ve always intended to read more of her work. I finally picked up her 2010 novel, The Book of Human Skin, in the summer, but when I saw how long it was (512 pages) I decided to save it for Laura’s Doorstoppers in December event instead!

I didn’t love this book quite as much as Harristown Sisters, but it’s still a fascinating story. Set in Venice and Peru around the turn of the 19th century, it has five very different narrators. The character around whom everything else revolves is Marcella Fasan, a young woman from an aristocratic Venetian family. From birth, Marcella has been the subject of her brother’s hatred and envy – being twelve years older, Minguillo has always expected to be the sole heir to the family fortune and he resents the arrival of a baby sister who poses a threat to his inheritance.

As the years go by, Minguillo’s treatment of Marcella becomes increasingly cruel and brutal, until her friends decide it’s time to intervene. One of these is Gianni, a servant in the Fasan household. Minguillo believes him to be stupid and illiterate, but this is far from the truth and Gianni uses Minguillo’s misconceptions to his advantage. There’s also Santo Aldobrandini, a young surgeon who develops his skills treating the wounded in Napoleon’s army before making his way to Venice where he falls in love with Marcella. When he hears of what Marcella has suffered at her brother’s hands he’s determined to do whatever he can to rescue her.

The perspective switches between these four characters – and a fifth I haven’t mentioned yet – as they take turns to tell the story. The strongest and most unusual narrative voice is Gianni’s; although he’s far more intelligent than Minguillo assumes and has learned to read and write, his grasp of the written language is still not very good and he spells words phonetically or uses the wrong word in place of the right one. I found this annoying and distracting at first, but eventually got used to it – and it does result in some amusing spelling mistakes, such as hair for heir, aunts for ants or storks for stalks. Minguillo’s narration is also very distinctive due to him being so malicious, spiteful and sadistic. Despite this, as a storyteller he’s clever and charming, which makes his parts of the novel very compelling as well as horribly disturbing.

The fifth narrator is Sor Loreta, a nun at the convent of Santa Catalina in Arequipa, Peru. Sor Loreta is a religious fanatic, convinced that she has been chosen by God and that she is on the path to sainthood. She despises anyone who stands in her way or tries to reason with her – and this includes the prioress, who believes Sor Loreta is deluded and insane. This storyline seems very separate from the others, particularly as it’s taking place in a completely different country, but they do all come together in the end!

You may be wondering about the title of the novel. Well, one of Minguillo’s interests is collecting books bound in human skin. Gruesome as it may sound, there really was a demand for these books, which peaked in the 19th century, and it’s not surprising that a character as wicked and cold-blooded as Minguillo would be drawn to a hobby like this.

Finally, I need to mention the historical note at the back of the book. It’s so long it’s practically a whole non-fiction book in its own right! Lovric tells us which characters were fictional and which were based on real people, before going into a lot of depth on various historical aspects of the book, particularly the history of Venetian and Peruvian nuns and what it was like to live in a convent. It’s much more detailed than you would usually expect an author’s note to be and it was very interesting to read.

As it turns out, this was the perfect time for me to read this book because a sequel, The Puffin, has recently been announced for publication in 2026. I was also interested to learn that one of the characters in the book, the painter Cecilia Cornaro, is the subject of one of Lovric’s earlier novels, Carnevale, so I’ll have to look for that one as well.

Alice by Elizabeth Eliot – #DeanStreetDecember25

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My second book for this year’s Dean Street Press December (hosted by Liz of Adventures in Reading, Running and Working from Home) is Alice, Elizabeth Eliot’s first novel, originally published in 1949. Eliot is a new author for me but I’ve heard good things about her books from other bloggers.

Although the title of the novel is Alice, the narrator is actually Margaret Boswell, Alice’s best friend. They meet at boarding school in the 1920s and their friendship continues as they begin their adult lives. Both girls come from wealthy, privileged backgrounds, but Margaret’s family life seems quite a lonely one – she’s an only child and her mother, who is divorced, has little time for her daughter. Margaret lives mainly with her grandmother and is envious of Alice, who has two siblings.

As the two girls emerge from their sheltered childhoods, Margaret begins to discover that Alice is actually very insecure and unhappy. Alice falls into several disastrous romantic relationships, including a marriage to a man she barely knows, is betrayed by her older sister and attempts suicide. All of this is seen from Margaret’s perspective, but it’s very much Alice’s story (Margaret’s own marriage, for example, is only mentioned very briefly, in passing).

Alice is an interesting portrayal of what life was like between the two world wars for women of Alice and Margaret’s class. Eliot shows how, despite their expensive boarding schools and finishing schools, they are still unprepared for the realities of adulthood and she explores the lack of opportunities, beyond marriage, that are open to them. Both women eventually find some level of independence, with Alice deciding to become an actress and Margaret going to college to learn typing, but Alice, at least, still doesn’t feel satisfied and other characters observe that she seems ‘afraid of life’.

I’ve probably made this book sound bleak, but although it is a bit dark in places, it’s also funny and entertaining. This is largely down to the writing style, I think – Margaret tells the story in a very matter-of-fact way, even when describing something dramatic, and she comes across as quite naive and artless, which makes the overall tone feel amusing and less emotional than it could have been. The blurb draws comparisons with Barbara Comyns and Rachel Ferguson so if you’ve read either of those authors, that may give you an idea of what to expect.

There are another three Elizabeth Eliot novels available from Dean Street Press: Henry, Mrs. Martell, and Cecil. Based on how much I enjoyed this book, I’ll definitely have to consider reading the others!

The Inn Closes for Christmas & Other Dark Tales by Cledwyn Hughes

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Cledwyn Hughes is a completely new author for me – in fact, I had never heard of him until I spotted this new edition of his work on NetGalley recently. Hughes (not to be confused with the Labour politician of the same name) is a Welsh author of short stories – over 250 of them, apparently – novels, children’s books and nonfiction books about Wales. This new collection from John Murray Press includes his 1947 novella, The Inn Closes for Christmas, and several other, much shorter stories.

The Inn Closes for Christmas is a bizarre, macabre story. It begins at Christmas with a bank manager in the town of Welton sitting down to open a file containing a bundle of papers. The man who left it to him – the dentist, Mr Sterrill – has asked him to read through these papers every Christmas for as long as he should live. First, the bank manager examines some newspaper cuttings relating to the death, inquest and funeral of the dentist’s wife. Finally, he turns to the longest document in the file – a document written by Mr Sterrill himself.

The dentist starts by describing his marriage to his wife, Doreen, and giving an account of the car accident in which she lost one of her legs. Faced with spending the rest of her life with a missing limb, Doreen is delighted when she is provided with a prosthetic replacement. Her husband, however, is not pleased at all. He hates the way his wife looks at her artificial leg, the way she speaks so fondly of it and keeps it beside her in bed at night. In other words, he’s jealous of it. So when Doreen dies from what seems to be an infected abscess, Sterrill looks forward to getting rid of the leg at last. The only problem is, the leg doesn’t want to go…

This is such a strange story – I wonder what made Cledwyn Hughes think of it! I can’t say any more about the plot without spoiling it, but it really is one of the most unusual stories I’ve read. The way Hughes describes the mental deterioration of the narrator as he becomes more and more obsessed with the leg and consumed by guilt and fear reminded me of some of Edgar Allan Poe’s stories. It’s quite creepy in places, but also with an undercurrent of dark humour which made it both entertaining and unsettling.

Despite the title, this is definitely not a festive Christmas tale and could be read at any time of year. The US title was originally He Dared Not Look Behind which is probably more appropriate (you’ll understand why once you’ve read the story). This new edition includes six other stories by Hughes which I found too short to be very satisfying and I felt that they were only there to make the book feel a bit more substantial. The title novella alone makes it worth reading, though, and it’s not one I’ll forget in a hurry!

Thanks to John Murray Press/Baskerville for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Ghosts of Grayhaven by Amy Newbold and Lark Wright

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Some of you probably know Lark, who blogs at Lark Writes. She’s a blogger I’ve been following for many years so when she announced recently that she and her sister, Amy Newbold, had written and published a novella together I was interested in reading it.

The story begins with Mariah Moore arriving in the small town of Grayhaven in the Pacific Northwest with instructions from a client to complete a very unusual task. She has been asked to locate the burial place of Bartholomew Kane and perform a special ritual at his grave. Mariah has no idea why she needs to do this – it’s just a job to her and as long as she gets paid she doesn’t ask too many questions.

Zeb Raven has inherited the position of Keeper from his father. He’s responsible for protecting the graves in the cemetery – including the one that Mariah has been sent to find. When Mariah unknowingly releases a vengeful spirit from Bartholomew Kane’s grave, she and Zeb must work together to set the spirit to rest and rescue the people of Grayhaven from its evil.

Ghosts of Grayhaven is a supernatural story with a touch of romance. It could probably have been expanded into a longer book, but it’s also fine the way it is and I found it a quick, entertaining read. Mariah and Zeb are both engaging characters – I was particularly intrigued by Mariah’s job, doing unpleasant or dangerous tasks that her clients don’t want to do themselves, but Zeb’s work as the Keeper of the graves is also interesting. Cemeteries are always great settings, both for the spooky, ghostly atmosphere they can evoke and for what they can tell us about the history of a town and its families.

There’s also a third main character who joins Zeb and Mariah in their mission to save Grayhaven – Zeb’s dog, Moose, who plays a big part in the story. Lark has shared a picture on her blog of the Bavarian Mountain Scent Hound who inspired Moose. He was definitely my favourite character in the book! I think Amy and Lark can feel proud of what they’ve achieved with this novella and I hope they’ll be writing more.