This dark, introspective work, which unexpectedly reveals a golden-hued motivation on the part of its main character, reads like Scandinavian noir. But this gem is by an Irish author and follows his Booker Prize-longlisted Solar Bones. McCormack brings us to the west of Ireland, home of Nealon, a man returning from prison, though at first all we know is that he’s been away. He finds his home unexpectedly empty, the electricity switched off, and his wife and child gone. Right away, he gets a call from a stranger who, in a tone so jaunty it’s sinister, congratulates Nealon on his homecoming and offers to tell him where his family is in return for a meeting. As Nealon whiles away the days—after firmly declining the meeting—in a strange limbo, contact with the stranger continues and the former prisoner finds that the motivations for his crime may come to light. West of Ireland weather sets the tone, as “a huge, bruised cloud moves across the sky, with leaden sheets of rain peeling from its underbelly.” But it’s the anonymous, yet intimate, comments from the needling stranger that keep the writing on its toes and Nealon facing “a massive cessation of all that passes for the run of things.” For fans of Donal Ryan and David Malouf.
