Hawthorn & Child
Feb, 05/2022 also in: Irish Literature | 21st century
Hawthorn & Child, by Keith Ridgway
I come late to this book - admittedly, I am not strong on the Irish literary scene. The snippets of reviews pasted on the back cover are of the kind that leave you dubious: either you truly are in front of a genius, or the reviewers are covering for the fact that they never finished the book. It is neither one nor the other. The book is in fact captivating, and does not let you put it to rest on the table. It beguiles your attention in the attempt of figuring out what is going on in the plot, and towards the end of it you realize that you could be one of the characters Ridgway describes in his chapters: a bit obsessed with something that does not make sense.
The book pretends to be a detective story, but it is only in the sense that some detectives are involved. There is no linear plot, rather different stories that cross paths and make the readers entertain the possibility that they are missing something crucial to the story. The power of this book comes from its vivid writing that eases you into seeing the scenes as if it were a movie. One may wonder why Ridgway chose a detective novel for its trick - perhaps precisely because it assumes that readers will come to it with some expectations, and Ridgway’s writing zig-zags through them, forcing you to play his game or throw the book out of the window.
My copy remains peacefully on my table, and I suspect it may also call for a re-do: as other readers have suggested, re-reading it giving up the expectation of a linear plot allows for more details to be absorbed and enjoyed. In a sense, Hawthorn & Child is a reminder that it’s good to read slowly, and to read many times.
I come late to this book - admittedly, I am not strong on the Irish literary scene. The snippets of reviews pasted on the back cover are of the kind that leave you dubious: either you truly are in front of a genius, or the reviewers are covering for the fact that they never finished the book. It is neither one nor the other. The book is in fact captivating, and does not let you put it to rest on the table. It beguiles your attention in the attempt of figuring out what is going on in the plot, and towards the end of it you realize that you could be one of the characters Ridgway describes in his chapters: a bit obsessed with something that does not make sense.
The book pretends to be a detective story, but it is only in the sense that some detectives are involved. There is no linear plot, rather different stories that cross paths and make the readers entertain the possibility that they are missing something crucial to the story. The power of this book comes from its vivid writing that eases you into seeing the scenes as if it were a movie. One may wonder why Ridgway chose a detective novel for its trick - perhaps precisely because it assumes that readers will come to it with some expectations, and Ridgway’s writing zig-zags through them, forcing you to play his game or throw the book out of the window.
My copy remains peacefully on my table, and I suspect it may also call for a re-do: as other readers have suggested, re-reading it giving up the expectation of a linear plot allows for more details to be absorbed and enjoyed. In a sense, Hawthorn & Child is a reminder that it’s good to read slowly, and to read many times.