And that's a shame, because his prose is intelligent and his poetically eloquent phrases lovely. Why he decided to present his story in such disarray is beyond me, but perhaps other readers will find it more palatable, though I doubt it. Beginning with not a beginning, but an ending, Mr. Brodrick seems to tease the reader with bits and pieces of the past as challenge; his “between the lines” implication being “Ahah! Let's see you figure THIS one out!” That may be well and good in small doses, but an entire book of challenges? A mystery with no discernable clues? No thanks.
About the plot itself, however, I have no complaint except that I almost had to read the book twice to even FIND the plot in all the twists and turns of people who are not who they say they are, with names swapped around like used clothing in a thrift shop. It could have been a fine book, a good story, and a well-written one. I can only surmise that this author drafted his novel with random events and past memories, tossed them together with an odd lot of people all unconnected to each other, and then dropped them hither and thither into 321 blank pages, saying “There! I'm glad that's done!” But then, what do I know?
Review by Litera Scripta