I was hooked instantly by this collection of stories. Each one, layered with dialogue, let me witness from the inside.
My thanks to Eland Publishing for a copy of this book – parts of it I loved with a passion, other parts I wanted to tear out and jump on. But I never wanted to give up.
William Kinglake is so young and opinionated that it’s a shock to meet him, especially with two centuries of hindsight. It’s like meeting the worst of the British Empire in one person. His voice is brilliant, bizarre, unbelievable in places, and stunningly arrogant in others.
I was sent this book by Eland Publishing.
It is not a book of stormy passion, despite the title, but one that meanders slowly around post-war Greece, returning almost two decades later to the point where it begins – Perachora.
This collection of essays begins with a river and the road beside it, that “winds without rhyme or reason where it could run straight” .
Together they set the compass for Nicolas Bouvier’s meander beside people and their places, with moments picked out like glistening pebbles.
This copy was given to me by a friend.
I finished The Horns on a Thursday, and that Friday, the day I set aside to review the book, Mugabe died.
The news hit me like a wave full of debris – no joy, no relief, no anger – it just thudded me on to a shore that was no longer there.
I bought this book a while back and then left it sitting in the bottom of a drawer. Bad idea. If there’s anyone who shouldn’t be shut away, it’s Dervla Murphy.
She flew out of the pages.
The tidying up of The Phraser continues. This, rearranged so it reads better, was the first book I reviewed.