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Cacophony of Bone
Two days after the Winter Solstice in 2019 Kerri and her partner M moved to a small, remote railway cottage in the heart of Ireland. They were looking for a home, somewhere to stay put. What followed was a year of many changes. The pandemic arrived and their isolated home became a place of enforced isolation. It was to be a year unlike any we had seen before. But the seasons still turned, the swallows came at their allotted time, the rhythms of the natural world went on unchecked. For Kerri there was to be one more change, a longed-for but un-hoped for change.
Cacophony of Bone maps the circle of a year - a journey from one place to another, field notes of a life - from one winter, to the next. It is a telling of a changed life, in a changed world - and it is about all that does not change. All that which simply keeps on - living and breathing, nesting and dying - in spite of it all. When the pandemic came time seemed to shapeshift, so this is also a book about time. It is, too, a book about home, and what that can mean. Fragmentary in subject and form, fluid of language, this is an ode to a year, a place, and a love, that changed a life.
Cacophony of Bone maps the circle of a year - a journey from one place to another, field notes of a life - from one winter, to the next. It is a telling of a changed life, in a changed world - and it is about all that does not change. All that which simply keeps on - living and breathing, nesting and dying - in spite of it all. When the pandemic came time seemed to shapeshift, so this is also a book about time. It is, too, a book about home, and what that can mean. Fragmentary in subject and form, fluid of language, this is an ode to a year, a place, and a love, that changed a life.
304 pages, Paperback
First published November 14, 2023
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2399 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 101 reviews
March 3, 2024
First thing I did was look up the definition of cacophony. It essentially means a harsh mixture of sounds. I was intrigued where this title would take me…
Second thing I did was buy the book lol! I had actually borrowed this one from the library but by the time I had read to page 16, I was so in love with it I HAD TO OWN IT. That is the first time I have ever done that and I have read a lot of good library books but this one has something special about it - I needed it in my home.
The plot is a collage of beautiful, yet chronological, moments Kerri shares with us as her and her parter, M, move to a one room stone railway cottage in the heart of Ireland. They want a home…what is home? Kerri explores…a verb…a noun…somewhere to stay put.
Kerri shares with us the most raw and mystical journey of a year, a place and a love that changes her life forever….
The prose are written in such a way that it is almost a mixture of Kerri’s personal daily diary and sections of incredibly beautiful poetry. It is without a doubt one of the top 5 books I have ever read!
I could quote almost every page because this is the type of book where every WORD matters. Every word is like a new and interesting story all of its self. Because of that it took me a little longer than normal to get through because I didn’t want to miss a thing of this hypnotising beauty.
“Light has been my constant.
Light has been my guiding star.” 🕊️🤲 🙏🏼🌟
No words, of mine, can do this book justice. It is simply and most exquisitely beautiful.
Highly recommend to all.
Second thing I did was buy the book lol! I had actually borrowed this one from the library but by the time I had read to page 16, I was so in love with it I HAD TO OWN IT. That is the first time I have ever done that and I have read a lot of good library books but this one has something special about it - I needed it in my home.
The plot is a collage of beautiful, yet chronological, moments Kerri shares with us as her and her parter, M, move to a one room stone railway cottage in the heart of Ireland. They want a home…what is home? Kerri explores…a verb…a noun…somewhere to stay put.
Kerri shares with us the most raw and mystical journey of a year, a place and a love that changes her life forever….
The prose are written in such a way that it is almost a mixture of Kerri’s personal daily diary and sections of incredibly beautiful poetry. It is without a doubt one of the top 5 books I have ever read!
I could quote almost every page because this is the type of book where every WORD matters. Every word is like a new and interesting story all of its self. Because of that it took me a little longer than normal to get through because I didn’t want to miss a thing of this hypnotising beauty.
“Light has been my constant.
Light has been my guiding star.” 🕊️🤲 🙏🏼🌟
No words, of mine, can do this book justice. It is simply and most exquisitely beautiful.
Highly recommend to all.
August 12, 2023
If you’re reading this you’ve probably read Doireann ní Ghríofa, Sara Baume, Claire Louise Bennett etc and its certainly in that “sad brunette wanders the Irish countryside with her dog and Thinks about nature”. It has all the trademarks of this new post pandemic genre like living in a beautiful old place where she tries to listen to the voices of the earth, (like Baume) and where she has an unnamed voiceless partner who’s only interaction with her life is to provide the experience of motherhood (like Ní Ghriofa). Are we not tired of this yet?
I do not know how the reader is supposed to enjoy or relate to this depiction of lockdown as a peaceful retreat sat under a tree rather than screaming into a pillow in a prison cell that most people experienced lockdown as.
I’m definitely jealous of this new Cool Girl archetype as I couldn’t help but comparing the dates of the diaries to my own 2020. Especially as for quite a few specific dates in the past we have swam in the same sea and looked at the same Galway streets. I suppose it upsets me to read the wonderfully privileged account of somebody I would have seen in the queue for Kai while crying in my bedroom.
Nonetheless, my opinion will definitely change on all this when I’m in my 30s and receive an Arts Council Bursary too.
I do not know how the reader is supposed to enjoy or relate to this depiction of lockdown as a peaceful retreat sat under a tree rather than screaming into a pillow in a prison cell that most people experienced lockdown as.
I’m definitely jealous of this new Cool Girl archetype as I couldn’t help but comparing the dates of the diaries to my own 2020. Especially as for quite a few specific dates in the past we have swam in the same sea and looked at the same Galway streets. I suppose it upsets me to read the wonderfully privileged account of somebody I would have seen in the queue for Kai while crying in my bedroom.
Nonetheless, my opinion will definitely change on all this when I’m in my 30s and receive an Arts Council Bursary too.
October 15, 2023
When I saw that Kerri ní Dochartaigh had a new book out, I was intrigued. Thin Places was often a tough read, especially going into it thinking it was nature writing like others of the genre have written. Nature was her solace and those thin places a kind of magical thing that kept her here. That book trawled through a northern Irish childhood, into a young adult trying to come out of the fog to find their place and way in the world and feel safe, fighting the after-effects of trauma. From nightmares to numbness, nature her nurturer.
While that book was challenging because of all it makes the reader feel, Cacophony of Bone was proof of a move forward, of a shift out of the rawness of her earlier existence and while still in the process of healing, clear signs of hope and progress and development.
Essentially, the book is a 2020 covid journal, divided into 12 months, it begins just as she is making a move to a one room very basic railway cottage in the middle of Ireland with her partner/lover, just as the country/world is going into lockdown. A year of noticing and collecting objects, bones...
At the beginning of each chapter before the very brief diary entries, which are short poetic fragments and thoughts, there is a text, a navigation of layers of loneliness, grief and gratitude, observations of birds and moths, planning a garden and planting of seeds, the importance of rituals, an appreciation of the companionship of another human being, the connection with amazing women she has never yet met and the incredible comfort to be found in lines of language, of the soothing power of words and the immense power and wonder of books.
Dreams arrive and motifs return, the days are spent reaching for meaning, walking them through, collecting and abandoning them anew.
I don't think I have ever read a book that made me stop so often to look up references to predominantly works of creative nonfiction, poetry and memoir. It was a year of isolation, but Kerri ní Dochartaigh was able to read (and reread) from a bountiful collection of stunning literature. I admit I placed two orders with Kenny.ie bookshop during the time I was reading the book.
It was no surprise that she mentions the works of Doireann Ní Ghríofa and Sara Baume, it feels like these women hail from a similar soul group, literary sirens whose words lure readers not to their deaths, but to their visions and streams of conscious thought.
We meet Alice Oswald, Tove Jannsson, Moya Cannon, Annemarie Ni Churreain, Annie Ernaux, Terry Tempest Williams, Karine Polwart, Sarah Gillespie, Ellena Savage, Elizabeth-Jane Burnett, Rebecca May Johnson, Rebecca Solnit, Kathryn Joseph, Anne Carson, Kathleen Jamie, Anne Lamott, Richelle Kota, Alice Vincent, Lauret Savoy, Rebecca Tamas, Tania Tagaq, Emily Dickinson, Louise Erdrich, Colette Fellous, Sinéad Gleeson, Selva Almada, Katherine Mansfield, Virginia Woolf, Nancy Campbell, Elske Rahill, Octavia Bright, Alice Miller, Maggie O'Farrell, Genevieve Dutton and more...
It's a book that follows the seasons, that reminded me of reading Alice Tucker's A Spell in the Wild: A Year (and Six Centuries) of Magic and Sara Baume's A Line Made By Walking, it takes some skill to keep a reader engaged in a form of nature diary, but the blend of personal story, observations of nature, literary references and the curiosity of seeing where the author will end up after the revelations of Thin Places, all made it a compelling read for me, that became increasingly absorbing the further I read.
I'm left intrigued and curious about what will come next, although that might be quite obvious, since the end is in effect another new beginning. A work in progress.
While that book was challenging because of all it makes the reader feel, Cacophony of Bone was proof of a move forward, of a shift out of the rawness of her earlier existence and while still in the process of healing, clear signs of hope and progress and development.
It began two days
after the winter solstice,
as all stories begin:
with light.
Essentially, the book is a 2020 covid journal, divided into 12 months, it begins just as she is making a move to a one room very basic railway cottage in the middle of Ireland with her partner/lover, just as the country/world is going into lockdown. A year of noticing and collecting objects, bones...
To notice those things and to hold them, give my furry body over to their coming, to stop hurrying through life like a person shamed, by my female body and its traumas, by my past, by what that body could not have, what its parts could not produce.
At the beginning of each chapter before the very brief diary entries, which are short poetic fragments and thoughts, there is a text, a navigation of layers of loneliness, grief and gratitude, observations of birds and moths, planning a garden and planting of seeds, the importance of rituals, an appreciation of the companionship of another human being, the connection with amazing women she has never yet met and the incredible comfort to be found in lines of language, of the soothing power of words and the immense power and wonder of books.
Ritual finds form through the assumption that it is a means of really knowing something. Religious ceremony and personal rites of passage fill my thoughts. The gently, insistent act of repeating. How it creates equilibrium between the small and the vast, the seen and the unseen, the self and other, the part and the whole. We build myths (which are really just houses). Dwelling places built of the bones left behind by stories. We fill the gaps in the walls with ritual. We insulate it with objects.
Dreams arrive and motifs return, the days are spent reaching for meaning, walking them through, collecting and abandoning them anew.
I don't think I have ever read a book that made me stop so often to look up references to predominantly works of creative nonfiction, poetry and memoir. It was a year of isolation, but Kerri ní Dochartaigh was able to read (and reread) from a bountiful collection of stunning literature. I admit I placed two orders with Kenny.ie bookshop during the time I was reading the book.
It was no surprise that she mentions the works of Doireann Ní Ghríofa and Sara Baume, it feels like these women hail from a similar soul group, literary sirens whose words lure readers not to their deaths, but to their visions and streams of conscious thought.
I find myself searching for the words of others as a means to fill the holes that the actions of (other) others have left in me.
We meet Alice Oswald, Tove Jannsson, Moya Cannon, Annemarie Ni Churreain, Annie Ernaux, Terry Tempest Williams, Karine Polwart, Sarah Gillespie, Ellena Savage, Elizabeth-Jane Burnett, Rebecca May Johnson, Rebecca Solnit, Kathryn Joseph, Anne Carson, Kathleen Jamie, Anne Lamott, Richelle Kota, Alice Vincent, Lauret Savoy, Rebecca Tamas, Tania Tagaq, Emily Dickinson, Louise Erdrich, Colette Fellous, Sinéad Gleeson, Selva Almada, Katherine Mansfield, Virginia Woolf, Nancy Campbell, Elske Rahill, Octavia Bright, Alice Miller, Maggie O'Farrell, Genevieve Dutton and more...
After being alone for a long time, one starts to listen
differently,
to perceive the organic and the unexpected all around,
to brush against all the incomprehensible beauty of the material. Tove Jansson, 'The Island'
It's a book that follows the seasons, that reminded me of reading Alice Tucker's A Spell in the Wild: A Year (and Six Centuries) of Magic and Sara Baume's A Line Made By Walking, it takes some skill to keep a reader engaged in a form of nature diary, but the blend of personal story, observations of nature, literary references and the curiosity of seeing where the author will end up after the revelations of Thin Places, all made it a compelling read for me, that became increasingly absorbing the further I read.
I'm left intrigued and curious about what will come next, although that might be quite obvious, since the end is in effect another new beginning. A work in progress.
December 30, 2023
I wanted to love this so much. I love Kerri's writing and love the way she sees the world - honestly so very much. But as a 40yo woman with no intentions of being a mother, I find it very triggering reading about another person's yearning for motherhood. I understand and appreciate it, but am quite tired of the narrative that a woman must be a mother to reach completion or be whole (we don't). That's between me and my therapist, but I offer it here for others who feel the same generally, you may also struggle - this book isn't primarily about motherhood but it is a strong theme and for this reason I couldn't get into it to begin with. I AM SO SORRY. The words are beautiful. If it wasn't overdue at the library I probably would have finished it and loved it.
January 5, 2025
This is a difficult book to review, perhaps because I wanted to like it so much more than I did. There are flashes of such brilliance, little poems and phrases that seemed to speak to something in me. I was sickened by Dochartaigh's description of her depression during the pandemic because it was so familiar. The central themes of depression and recovery, communities of women, motherhood and nature should have made this book an absolute winner and at time I thought it might still pull it back... but...
The poetry was just cringe. How Dochartaigh could think that writing the light the light the light the light; THE LIGHT was a good way to demonstrate that she was interested in the idea of light is beyond me. And she KEEPS doing it; later she writes themoonthemoonthemoon. Perhaps this is a matter of preference but I think literally any other way to show emphasis/preoccupation with something would have been better.
Equally cringe was the random inclusion of buzz words and phrases that I KNOW I saw on Twitter at the time. Dochartaigh's reflection on the Black Lives Matter movement was basically a couple of catchphrases which stuck out for being jarringly lazy in the middle of such an artificial, highly aestheticised work. The tone was so inconsistent and clearly imagined itself as so profound but I just found myself actively laughing at the way it was written.
Despite this, I can see why some people would find Dochartaigh's writing compelling. Some parts were moving and even beautiful and her nature writing was at times exquisite. It's just that every time I became absorbed in her prose - and it was specifically her prose rather than her poetry which stuck out to me - a clumsy or outright ridiculous phrase would catch me and I would have to stop and roll my eyes. Her nature writing and thoughts on motherhood and mental illness were the best parts and her long, overwrought passages on memory were dreadful. I think this book didn't know what it wanted to be. Maybe, in the future, Dochartaigh will find what she really wants to say; in that potential there is hope of something lovely. But I cannot believe that this book was really what she wanted it to be. I hope she tries again.
The poetry was just cringe. How Dochartaigh could think that writing the light the light the light the light; THE LIGHT was a good way to demonstrate that she was interested in the idea of light is beyond me. And she KEEPS doing it; later she writes themoonthemoonthemoon. Perhaps this is a matter of preference but I think literally any other way to show emphasis/preoccupation with something would have been better.
Equally cringe was the random inclusion of buzz words and phrases that I KNOW I saw on Twitter at the time. Dochartaigh's reflection on the Black Lives Matter movement was basically a couple of catchphrases which stuck out for being jarringly lazy in the middle of such an artificial, highly aestheticised work. The tone was so inconsistent and clearly imagined itself as so profound but I just found myself actively laughing at the way it was written.
Despite this, I can see why some people would find Dochartaigh's writing compelling. Some parts were moving and even beautiful and her nature writing was at times exquisite. It's just that every time I became absorbed in her prose - and it was specifically her prose rather than her poetry which stuck out to me - a clumsy or outright ridiculous phrase would catch me and I would have to stop and roll my eyes. Her nature writing and thoughts on motherhood and mental illness were the best parts and her long, overwrought passages on memory were dreadful. I think this book didn't know what it wanted to be. Maybe, in the future, Dochartaigh will find what she really wants to say; in that potential there is hope of something lovely. But I cannot believe that this book was really what she wanted it to be. I hope she tries again.
June 19, 2023
The prose of this book is hypnotising with its beauty - it is so poetic and reads as a love letter to being present. It is a collection of reflections on living through the pandemic, living with nature, becoming a mother, and finding yourself. The writing is just so more-ish and really calming - it’s certainty in being so is a contrast to the time that it was written in. Another great piece of Irish writing which pays tribute by way of admiration to greats such as Seamus Heaney and Doireann Ní Ghríofa.
January 23, 2024
I am not sure what this book was meant to be... for too much of it, it very much felt like journal pages that the author decided were "publish worthy." (They were mostly not, imo) She also spends an inordinate amount of time talking about social media... it got to the point when she wrote about Instagram, I turned the page.
The hype did not happen for me... Sadly, the title of this book is the best thing about it.
I don't recommend, but ymmv.
The hype did not happen for me... Sadly, the title of this book is the best thing about it.
I don't recommend, but ymmv.
June 28, 2023
There are some beautiful passages in this book, and I love the reflections on time, place, and memory. Still, I found it deeply irritating in many ways — “global pandemic”, “ saw on Instagram”, “posted on Instagram”, “changed me forever”, over and over being the most grating. I only carried on to the end because I’d gone to the trouble to order it online.
January 27, 2024
I thought this was a beautifully written book - I liked her style of journal writing and hope to adopt something similar in my own practice. I will say that I am almost surprised that I enjoyed it as much as I did because I find pregnancy to be rather horrifying - but her words were keenly felt and truly expressed and it was good to see another side of an event that completely grosses me out - facts that I find truly disturbing were described with reverence and awe (the post-birth brain of a mother loses it's pre-frontal cortex function! ack. no thank you. but poignantly enmeshed in her musings) and I appreciated learning another's view of a fairly common place yet controversial state and hearing someone's true desires expressed with poetic ponderings.
The book was lacking something big in my opinion - a list of all the wonderful books mentioned! The author read so much and described so many books and writers that seemed amazing - I would have loved a comprehensive list of them at the end of the book.
I wrote down a few and figure I might as well share them here - this is not an exhaustive list though - some she mentioned were not appealing to me and so I made no note of them after researching them and some are just guesses because she only mentioned the author and not a specific text - but these are all ones I hope to read one day:
Listen to the Land Speak by Manchán Magan
On Being Blue by William H. Gass
Fifty Words for Snow by Nancy Campbell
Strangers: Essays on the Human and Nonhuman by Rebecca Tamás
Katherine Mansfield Letters and Journals: A Selection by Katherine Mansfield
Constellations by Sinéad Gleeson
Agnes Martin: Writings by Agnes Martin
Sightlines by Kathleen Jamie
The White Book by Han Kang
The Grassling by Elizabeth-Jane Burnett
Blueberries: Essays Concerning Understanding by Ellena Savage
Antlers of Water: Writing on the Nature and Environment of Scotland edited by Kathleen Jamie
To Star the Dark by Doireann Ni Ghriofa
When Women Were Birds: Fifty-four Variations on Voice by Terry Tempest Williams
Bloodroot by Annemarie Ní Churreáin
A Ghost in the Throat by Doireann Ni Ghriofa
Handiwork by Sara Baume
Orison for a Curlew: In Search of a Bird on the Edge of Extinction by Horatio Clare
The book was lacking something big in my opinion - a list of all the wonderful books mentioned! The author read so much and described so many books and writers that seemed amazing - I would have loved a comprehensive list of them at the end of the book.
I wrote down a few and figure I might as well share them here - this is not an exhaustive list though - some she mentioned were not appealing to me and so I made no note of them after researching them and some are just guesses because she only mentioned the author and not a specific text - but these are all ones I hope to read one day:
Listen to the Land Speak by Manchán Magan
On Being Blue by William H. Gass
Fifty Words for Snow by Nancy Campbell
Strangers: Essays on the Human and Nonhuman by Rebecca Tamás
Katherine Mansfield Letters and Journals: A Selection by Katherine Mansfield
Constellations by Sinéad Gleeson
Agnes Martin: Writings by Agnes Martin
Sightlines by Kathleen Jamie
The White Book by Han Kang
The Grassling by Elizabeth-Jane Burnett
Blueberries: Essays Concerning Understanding by Ellena Savage
Antlers of Water: Writing on the Nature and Environment of Scotland edited by Kathleen Jamie
To Star the Dark by Doireann Ni Ghriofa
When Women Were Birds: Fifty-four Variations on Voice by Terry Tempest Williams
Bloodroot by Annemarie Ní Churreáin
A Ghost in the Throat by Doireann Ni Ghriofa
Handiwork by Sara Baume
Orison for a Curlew: In Search of a Bird on the Edge of Extinction by Horatio Clare
June 28, 2023
ARC received via Edeweiss. All opinions are my own.
Over all, I enjoyed this. This writing is very beautiful and the author's command over language and appreciation of the immediacy and beauty of the natural world were very beguiling. That said, this is essentially a collection of random thoughts in diarised form, which means that at times it was disjointed and at others it was a little too self conscious not to be disingenuous. That's the problem with diaries and journals - self deception, exaggeration and pathos are privileges of the form. I doubt anyone sets out to be dishonest when they transcribe their thoughts however when you love words the way the author does, I don't see how you can help smoothing an edge here or sharpening one there. Every so often the lack of logical, practical thinking would intrude on me and cause irritation too, because I am what I am too. My heart goes out to anyone who wants a child of their own but finds it difficult/ impossible to conceive or carry one to term. But I am not able to fully compassionate because I have never wanted children.
However, minor gripes aside, this was a gorgeous look at the changing natural world in the year the human world (the unnatural world) stood still. I could hear about storm light and weather patterns and skylarks all day long. It really was beautifully written. I didn't realise until I was halfway through that I have the author's previous work Thin Places not only on my tbr but in my audiobook library - so I'll bump that up the list.
If you want something that is calming, poignant and lovely with plenty of nature imagery, then you'll enjoy this. If you prefer biography to be the story of someone's life, then it may well frustrate you.
Over all, I enjoyed this. This writing is very beautiful and the author's command over language and appreciation of the immediacy and beauty of the natural world were very beguiling. That said, this is essentially a collection of random thoughts in diarised form, which means that at times it was disjointed and at others it was a little too self conscious not to be disingenuous. That's the problem with diaries and journals - self deception, exaggeration and pathos are privileges of the form. I doubt anyone sets out to be dishonest when they transcribe their thoughts however when you love words the way the author does, I don't see how you can help smoothing an edge here or sharpening one there. Every so often the lack of logical, practical thinking would intrude on me and cause irritation too, because I am what I am too. My heart goes out to anyone who wants a child of their own but finds it difficult/ impossible to conceive or carry one to term. But I am not able to fully compassionate because I have never wanted children.
However, minor gripes aside, this was a gorgeous look at the changing natural world in the year the human world (the unnatural world) stood still. I could hear about storm light and weather patterns and skylarks all day long. It really was beautifully written. I didn't realise until I was halfway through that I have the author's previous work Thin Places not only on my tbr but in my audiobook library - so I'll bump that up the list.
If you want something that is calming, poignant and lovely with plenty of nature imagery, then you'll enjoy this. If you prefer biography to be the story of someone's life, then it may well frustrate you.
December 5, 2023
“I, myself, probably couldn’t write this….”, Little Miss Slay blatantly states, “….but then again, I don’t know why I would.”
August 6, 2024
An odd little ditty/journal/stream of consciousness recount of a newly sober author’s experience during Covid. Listening to the audiobook read by the author helped keep my interest. Her descriptions of passing time, various kinds of light, the importance of nature and flowers all resonated with me. But what was up with the moths?
April 8, 2025
I enjoyed the prose and diary style
Writing.
Writing.
May 13, 2024
A little too much navel gazing for me, although lyrically written. I can feel for the life she has had and what she is going through during the pandemic. But I found myself wanting to shake her. Says more about me than her, of course.
March 30, 2024
This book got a mediocre review by group members. For me, there were far too many long passages about depression. It was written in the form of a diary. She was revising her bookThin Places which we had read previously. That book was fantastic and magical, as well as tragic. This book has beautiful descriptions of nature and a lot about birds, a favorite topic of mine. She does talk a lot about having or not having children.
She and her partner have moved from Derry to a cottage her partner has inherited in the midlands of Ireland. It is the pandemic during lockdown, a trying time. They have almost no income and it is unclear how they are surviving.
She and her partner have moved from Derry to a cottage her partner has inherited in the midlands of Ireland. It is the pandemic during lockdown, a trying time. They have almost no income and it is unclear how they are surviving.
December 31, 2023
There is so much beauty in this book. I found myself copying bits into my journal and snapping photos of some of the stunning lines ní Dochartaigh wrote.
That being said, this book did get tedious by the midpoint. I was enamored with the writing initially, but after she mentioned "bawling," "howling," and being "moved" dozens upon dozens of times, I grew a bit tired of it. After while, this felt like reading straight from someone's Notes app. That's not necessarily a bad thing, and it will, I am sure, resonate with many readers, myself included. This memoir is in the style of reading someone’s daily journal, so it’s expected to be a bit raw and rough around the edges.
Despite being a bit put off by some of the excessive sentimentality, there was such gorgeous observation of the natural world that I really enjoyed this and will look forward to more work by ní Dochartaigh.
That being said, this book did get tedious by the midpoint. I was enamored with the writing initially, but after she mentioned "bawling," "howling," and being "moved" dozens upon dozens of times, I grew a bit tired of it. After while, this felt like reading straight from someone's Notes app. That's not necessarily a bad thing, and it will, I am sure, resonate with many readers, myself included. This memoir is in the style of reading someone’s daily journal, so it’s expected to be a bit raw and rough around the edges.
Despite being a bit put off by some of the excessive sentimentality, there was such gorgeous observation of the natural world that I really enjoyed this and will look forward to more work by ní Dochartaigh.
December 21, 2023
The intro said this narration is for listeners who want to slow down. Well, I am here to tell you that that is utterly true.
Fortunately, I requested the audio version narrated by author, otherwise, I would not have made it past the first page.
I don’t think we came up with a lot of good literature during pandemic, a lot of good comedy though. personally, nostalgifying a worldwide pandemic that took so many lives and which we are still recovering from, is not working.
That being said, her soothing Irish lilt and uniquely personal prose will be a great way to fall asleep.
Fortunately, I requested the audio version narrated by author, otherwise, I would not have made it past the first page.
I don’t think we came up with a lot of good literature during pandemic, a lot of good comedy though. personally, nostalgifying a worldwide pandemic that took so many lives and which we are still recovering from, is not working.
That being said, her soothing Irish lilt and uniquely personal prose will be a great way to fall asleep.
October 29, 2023
Stunning, exquisite nature writing interspersed with her diary entries she traces the year of 2020, when she moved to an abandoned house in the middle of Ireland with her lover, just before the world was locked down. The book moves from the ordinary following of nature's seasons, to the books that she is enjoying to her deeper processing of thoughts and feelings. Very much grounded in the earth, literally and figuratively.
January 22, 2025
is this, at times, super kitsch? - yes.
does this portray romantic partnership & motherhood in a way i would usually find boring? - yes.
are some of the metaphors very obvious and the is their use at times so over the top? - yes.
did it still touch a very tender part of it? and could i not wait to return to these pages? and are there conversations initiated by this book that would otherwise not happen? - yes.
so, yes. would recommend.
does this portray romantic partnership & motherhood in a way i would usually find boring? - yes.
are some of the metaphors very obvious and the is their use at times so over the top? - yes.
did it still touch a very tender part of it? and could i not wait to return to these pages? and are there conversations initiated by this book that would otherwise not happen? - yes.
so, yes. would recommend.
July 1, 2024
Just too hard to get through. Writing was beautiful but every page was a poem and I could only read a page or two at a time. I had no idea what the plot was or what she was trying to say. Not my type of read.
October 16, 2024
a great book. i listened to the audiobook, read by the author most poetically. loved it.
February 8, 2025
Basically poems for every day of a year. Wasn’t for me but I appreciate the authors work & growth. I liked the bits about her garden.
Read
December 17, 2023DNF @ 30%
Although the writing is so beautiful and I'm a little torn about this, I am going to DNF this book. Honestly, if I haven't finished it yet, I don't think I will. I really enjoyed what I read though.
Although the writing is so beautiful and I'm a little torn about this, I am going to DNF this book. Honestly, if I haven't finished it yet, I don't think I will. I really enjoyed what I read though.
July 31, 2024
I loved this book. Poetic, sad but hopeful. Beautiful.
January 23, 2025
I think I need to stop reading other people’s reviews of books on here. I also think this book was grossly misinterpreted to be very privileged & a happy go lucky account of a year in a small cottage during the pandemic—but below the surface… there is a lot of grief, sadness, & depression that co-exists between daily recordings & nature walks. the brilliance of this account exists in those spaces, where the light filters in & swells. dochartaigh examines this frequently throughout the text, & y’all have to understand that comparing your journals to hers during the same year in hopes of highlighting a stark contrast in privilege is pretty misaligned & futile. this text was edited & altered for publication, & also contains bouts of mini-essays & examinations that the typical journal may not, on top of just being one of many experiences that people had during the pandemic. idk. this is getting too far away from the actual text. I am extremely thankful for the documentation of this time period via a myriad of artists & writers & find this text very intimate & inspiring.
August 2, 2025
fascinating. colorful. descriptive, and yet at the same time utterly incoherent in a very relatable way. I saw that some critiques were that it was too flowery, too all over the place, etc. It’s a personal account of the cycle of a year during arguably the most uncertain, tumultuous time a lot of us have lived through. did we miss that part? are we now unable to be poetic and romanticize the seasonal cycle around us? about the meaningfulness of growing your own garden for the first time, all the while grappling with your own personal past, present, and future? I picked this book up because I wanted something different, and I got it. this book is very candid about what it is, and it doesn’t claim to be anything different.
I think we could all benefit from borderline incomprehensible ramblings about our own lives and our connection to the world
I think we could all benefit from borderline incomprehensible ramblings about our own lives and our connection to the world
December 28, 2025
The gorgeous cover made me want to read this book, but like so many other readers, I found this a slog. In the end I DNF it, but I still feel it is worth reviewing because so many people seemed to give this the big tick and there are various reasons why it isn't a great memoir/autobiography.
First, Kerri seems to be looking at a journey, a cycle of a year in which so much changed for her, but what did it change FROM and TO? She drops, like decent sized stones, facts about her past: she is a recovering alcoholic, she is grieving, she is broken by life. She is also living, for the first time ever, in a home that she won't leave after about a year. She has a man called "M" in her life. The outside world and the domestic arrangement she has is healing her. The runs under a pink moon, through the countryside, past trees and birds and the bog near the old cottage she lives in, give her insights into the value of life and home, beauty and the LIGHT. But somehow it comes across as pulling treacle. We can only watch it a number of times before we get how they do it. After awhile that hot mass of bronze sugar becomes boring. We leave the shop because there is really so little revealed here. Kerri seems determined to explore herself, but who the hell is she? What happened to make her grieve? Is she an ex drinker or drug user? The reader certainly doesn't get much in the way of explanation. It's like NOYB tied up in a Memoir.
For a book hailed as poetry and beautiful prose I didn't read anything particularly poetic. I didn't get to know Kerri except as an anguished soul who felt, as so many of us do, alone, lonely, hurt, in recovery, anxious, and also grateful and able to start embracing the beauty (forced upon her by Covid lockdowns) of the natural world more fully. I didn't really find the baby making and growing that important. Many of us have done it. It's always a miracle for the new parents, but everyone else knows it's a biological imperative which many succumb to.
Anyway, I think Kerri is capable of writing and she is creative, but this book just did my head in. I couldn't be going through it, page by page, anymore. If people want to read something truly magical and poetic, then read Jen Hadfield's Storm Pegs. Now that's a great read.
First, Kerri seems to be looking at a journey, a cycle of a year in which so much changed for her, but what did it change FROM and TO? She drops, like decent sized stones, facts about her past: she is a recovering alcoholic, she is grieving, she is broken by life. She is also living, for the first time ever, in a home that she won't leave after about a year. She has a man called "M" in her life. The outside world and the domestic arrangement she has is healing her. The runs under a pink moon, through the countryside, past trees and birds and the bog near the old cottage she lives in, give her insights into the value of life and home, beauty and the LIGHT. But somehow it comes across as pulling treacle. We can only watch it a number of times before we get how they do it. After awhile that hot mass of bronze sugar becomes boring. We leave the shop because there is really so little revealed here. Kerri seems determined to explore herself, but who the hell is she? What happened to make her grieve? Is she an ex drinker or drug user? The reader certainly doesn't get much in the way of explanation. It's like NOYB tied up in a Memoir.
For a book hailed as poetry and beautiful prose I didn't read anything particularly poetic. I didn't get to know Kerri except as an anguished soul who felt, as so many of us do, alone, lonely, hurt, in recovery, anxious, and also grateful and able to start embracing the beauty (forced upon her by Covid lockdowns) of the natural world more fully. I didn't really find the baby making and growing that important. Many of us have done it. It's always a miracle for the new parents, but everyone else knows it's a biological imperative which many succumb to.
Anyway, I think Kerri is capable of writing and she is creative, but this book just did my head in. I couldn't be going through it, page by page, anymore. If people want to read something truly magical and poetic, then read Jen Hadfield's Storm Pegs. Now that's a great read.
February 27, 2024
Glanced quickly at reviews and the second one I read was so mean-spirited, it killed my will to see what others think. Much better to treat this platform as a reading journal with whomever chooses to read what I capture here. My 5 stars to stave off the pure horror of that "review." I love her writing, and if everyone is a book reviewer, book reviews have become meaningless.
Things I loved:
I loved the names of the moon at the start of the chapters, the reminder of how much I loved Handiwork so I reread it, images of home (both literal and figurative. And I wrote down the quotes about birds. The title is gorgeous, and those colors of the flower remind me of the orange and green of the flag of Ireland. I do, indeed, hope she writes another book.
This book tested me to see if I could remember how many places I have lived (I could...27) and how so few felt like a home and the ones that did led me to the nest I have now. Some I want to forget and can't, and this book made me think of home as a feeling and a place.
Favorite scene/sentence:
When my partner built that table and bought food for those birds, what he was saying was: Yes the world as we know it has changed beyond all words but there are things that need no words. There are still things that we can do. Look at all those birds we never knew that there could be.
He was saying that sometimes things break and smash and rot, and then the parts left over can be hammered into something new. What my partner was saying was that it takes so little, so very little indeed, to call the winged, coloured things down from out of the sky. There is very little that we need to do that can change our days so fully, so completely - one day at a time. (53)
Things I loved:
I loved the names of the moon at the start of the chapters, the reminder of how much I loved Handiwork so I reread it, images of home (both literal and figurative. And I wrote down the quotes about birds. The title is gorgeous, and those colors of the flower remind me of the orange and green of the flag of Ireland. I do, indeed, hope she writes another book.
This book tested me to see if I could remember how many places I have lived (I could...27) and how so few felt like a home and the ones that did led me to the nest I have now. Some I want to forget and can't, and this book made me think of home as a feeling and a place.
Favorite scene/sentence:
When my partner built that table and bought food for those birds, what he was saying was: Yes the world as we know it has changed beyond all words but there are things that need no words. There are still things that we can do. Look at all those birds we never knew that there could be.
He was saying that sometimes things break and smash and rot, and then the parts left over can be hammered into something new. What my partner was saying was that it takes so little, so very little indeed, to call the winged, coloured things down from out of the sky. There is very little that we need to do that can change our days so fully, so completely - one day at a time. (53)
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