Unlike some reviewers, I enjoyed the contemporary chapters more than the chapters set in the 1860s. Ruth's damaged personality, and her struggle to deal with the loss of her childhood after her mother's death, seemed very plausible and kept me reading. The discovery of the skeleton of a newborn baby, with severe birth defects that suggest links to the ancient local myths of âselkiesâ or mermaids, under the floorboards of the old house she and her husband were renovating, push Ruth over the edge, unleashing all of her worst expectations about people, and worst behaviour to those who love her and are trying to help her, convincing her that the house is haunted by the malevolent spirit of the dead child. The truth turns out to be both more complicated and more hopeful.
The setting, the Isle of Harris in the Outer Hebrides, is sensitively handled in the modern section, with a nice balance between the good things -- their beauty, and their sense of community, and strong island culture â and the not-so-good things -- their remoteness, and their tragic history.
That I've only given two three stars, in spite of those promising features, is almost entirely down to the chapters set in the past, which were infuriating. The author provides a bibliography of the texts she used for research â but if I had been her editor, I would have suggested that she checked out a couple more from the library before submitting the final draft. One on 19th century etiquette: NO well-raised young woman of 1860, the daughter of the Laird of the manor, would have been on first name basis with a young man, and definitely would never have suggested that a servant call her by her first name. No way, no how. And a volume on the fine distinctions been Scottish Protestant sects might have been helpful. As another reviewer points out in much more detail (Eladram, 1 star review), a âvicarâ living in a âmanse,â wearing a surplice and delivering communion to his parishioners on the staunchly Presbyterian Hebrides is complete nonsense, muddling together aspects of Church of England, Church of Scotland, Methodist -- and the Wee Free Presbyterians who would have counted most of the common farm folk on the islands among their numbers.
The clumsiness of the chapters set in the past sadly undermined my enjoyment of the chapters set in the present.
The setting, the Isle of Harris in the Outer Hebrides, is sensitively handled in the modern section, with a nice balance between the good things -- their beauty, and their sense of community, and strong island culture â and the not-so-good things -- their remoteness, and their tragic history.
That I've only given two three stars, in spite of those promising features, is almost entirely down to the chapters set in the past, which were infuriating. The author provides a bibliography of the texts she used for research â but if I had been her editor, I would have suggested that she checked out a couple more from the library before submitting the final draft. One on 19th century etiquette: NO well-raised young woman of 1860, the daughter of the Laird of the manor, would have been on first name basis with a young man, and definitely would never have suggested that a servant call her by her first name. No way, no how. And a volume on the fine distinctions been Scottish Protestant sects might have been helpful. As another reviewer points out in much more detail (Eladram, 1 star review), a âvicarâ living in a âmanse,â wearing a surplice and delivering communion to his parishioners on the staunchly Presbyterian Hebrides is complete nonsense, muddling together aspects of Church of England, Church of Scotland, Methodist -- and the Wee Free Presbyterians who would have counted most of the common farm folk on the islands among their numbers.
The clumsiness of the chapters set in the past sadly undermined my enjoyment of the chapters set in the present.
