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Phantom Limb
'I hear a voice, singing in the wilderness - its sound is strange and it is beautiful. Chris Kohler's Phantom Limb is the Scottish novel I have been waiting on for so long' Alan Warner
One evening, Gillis - a young Scottish minister who technically doesn't believe in god - falls into a hole left by a recently dug up elm tree and discovers an ancient disembodied hand in the soil. He's about to rebury it when the hand... beckons to him. He spirits it back to his manse and gives it pen and paper, whereupon it begins to doodle scratchy and anarchic visions. Somewhere, in the hand's deep history, there lies a story of the Scottish reformation, of art and violence, and of its owner long since dead. But for Gillis, there lies only to reinvent himself as a prophet, proclaim the hand a miracle and use it for reasons both sacred and profane... to impress his ex-girlfriend, and to lead himself and his country out of inertia and into a dynamic, glorious future.
One evening, Gillis - a young Scottish minister who technically doesn't believe in god - falls into a hole left by a recently dug up elm tree and discovers an ancient disembodied hand in the soil. He's about to rebury it when the hand... beckons to him. He spirits it back to his manse and gives it pen and paper, whereupon it begins to doodle scratchy and anarchic visions. Somewhere, in the hand's deep history, there lies a story of the Scottish reformation, of art and violence, and of its owner long since dead. But for Gillis, there lies only to reinvent himself as a prophet, proclaim the hand a miracle and use it for reasons both sacred and profane... to impress his ex-girlfriend, and to lead himself and his country out of inertia and into a dynamic, glorious future.
379 pages, ebook
First published August 1, 2024
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Displaying 1 - 26 of 26 reviews
October 24, 2025
In a small fishing village in Scotland, a nihilistic minister named Gillis obtains a spiritual awakening from an animated and seemingly communicative severed hand, which he stores in a shortbread tin. The novel’s selling point is its humour—dark, absurdist, and borderline macabre—delivered deadpan within irreverent, subversive, and satirical content. It had me cackling deep into the night.
The hand unwittingly animates a series of way-off-tangent actions, reactions, and ideas in people who encounter it: from indifference to opportunism, religious fervour to existential purpose, business proposals to complicity in a crime. These responses, however absurd, are not unrealistic; people often react to shocking or uncomfortable situations in unpredictable and inappropriate ways because of the novelty and unprecedented nature of the situation. I think one explanation is that people navigate life through the use of mental templates built up from experience that inform and guide how to behave or respond in specific or similar situations, like social etiquette and such. Without an example or experience of a fitting response, the improvised one can appear contradictory or inappropriate—like bursting into fits of laughter, showing non-reaction to an otherwise unsettling and disturbing stimulus, babbling nonsense, and making absurd suggestions. The person, starting from a position of one experiencing the wrong emotions, or who has grossly mischaracterised the situation, follows a cascade of reasoning, which inevitably leads them to a preposterous conclusion.
Gillis’s story, including how he came to be a minister, runs parallel to Jan’s—a hapless apprentice painter tasked with delivering a book, who finds himself entangled in a series of misadventures. Their stories unfold against repeating motifs of street preachers, doom-sayers, or everyday people wanting miracles—imploring actions, repentance, or making accusations with unconventional and unsuitable arguments: “A cat will poison your children and brag about it”
The result is a surrealistic, unrestrained, dream-like scape, sometimes fevered, which, in essence, personifies the slippery-slope fallacy—one small event spiralling into something so extreme it becomes ludicrous. The absurdities are delivered with such solemn conviction that they become hysterically funny.
“Gillis knew all the tactics—a hand on the shoulder, a kind word, a truism, a verse from the Bible, a chorus of a hymn, a prayer, an anecdote from his own life—and if any of those failed… an ornate grotesquerie of suffering and death…to make them own their grief, to force them to count their blessings, distract them with a little blood and gore. If someone can suffer like this… then you can suffer through. The dead will always be with us—in our hearts and memories, children, property we stand to inherit, some loophole in a pension scheme that might pay out… gets them from hysterical sobbing to grim stoicism in under twenty minutes.”
The hand unwittingly animates a series of way-off-tangent actions, reactions, and ideas in people who encounter it: from indifference to opportunism, religious fervour to existential purpose, business proposals to complicity in a crime. These responses, however absurd, are not unrealistic; people often react to shocking or uncomfortable situations in unpredictable and inappropriate ways because of the novelty and unprecedented nature of the situation. I think one explanation is that people navigate life through the use of mental templates built up from experience that inform and guide how to behave or respond in specific or similar situations, like social etiquette and such. Without an example or experience of a fitting response, the improvised one can appear contradictory or inappropriate—like bursting into fits of laughter, showing non-reaction to an otherwise unsettling and disturbing stimulus, babbling nonsense, and making absurd suggestions. The person, starting from a position of one experiencing the wrong emotions, or who has grossly mischaracterised the situation, follows a cascade of reasoning, which inevitably leads them to a preposterous conclusion.
Gillis’s story, including how he came to be a minister, runs parallel to Jan’s—a hapless apprentice painter tasked with delivering a book, who finds himself entangled in a series of misadventures. Their stories unfold against repeating motifs of street preachers, doom-sayers, or everyday people wanting miracles—imploring actions, repentance, or making accusations with unconventional and unsuitable arguments: “A cat will poison your children and brag about it”
The result is a surrealistic, unrestrained, dream-like scape, sometimes fevered, which, in essence, personifies the slippery-slope fallacy—one small event spiralling into something so extreme it becomes ludicrous. The absurdities are delivered with such solemn conviction that they become hysterically funny.
“Gillis knew all the tactics—a hand on the shoulder, a kind word, a truism, a verse from the Bible, a chorus of a hymn, a prayer, an anecdote from his own life—and if any of those failed… an ornate grotesquerie of suffering and death…to make them own their grief, to force them to count their blessings, distract them with a little blood and gore. If someone can suffer like this… then you can suffer through. The dead will always be with us—in our hearts and memories, children, property we stand to inherit, some loophole in a pension scheme that might pay out… gets them from hysterical sobbing to grim stoicism in under twenty minutes.”
August 3, 2024
Glaswegian writer Chris Kohler’s debut novel moves between Scotland’s present and episodes from its past, exploring themes around history, identity, belief and power. In the present Gillis, a failed athlete, has taken up a post as a minister in Kirkmouth, the small town in central Scotland where he grew up. Gillis is a non-believer but the role offers free accommodation and a chance to rebuild. The community’s suffering from various forms of economic blight partly stemming from issues around fishing and problems with the local industrial fishery. Scotland itself is divided, caught up in the fallout from the severing of ties to Europe and the split between those who long for independence and those who wish to remain part of the United Kingdom.
Gillis’s everyday ministry’s limited, the local kirk’s no longer a community hub, instead of services most of Gillis’s time is taken up with presiding over funerals, a ritualistic, performative role. But then he unearths a disembodied, male hand buried close to his manse. The hand shows no signs of decomposition, and appears to be alive. Gillis gives the hand a pen but instead of presenting a coherent account of its origins, it constructs a series of rudimentary, mysterious drawings. The hand attracts the attention of Nichol a developer, business owner, and major local employer. Nichol believes the hand may be a holy relic with healing powers, powers that might be exploited for financial gain. Gillis however begins to view the hand as a sign from God, one that might lead to his becoming a religious leader/prophet – rather like the American evangelical preachers who use religion as a means of amassing private fortunes.
Kohler interweaves Gillis’s narrative with the story of the hand’s owner Jan, an apprentice painter from what’s now the Netherlands. Jan’s narrative unfolds in the sixteenth century during the turbulent beginnings of the Scottish Reformation, marked by violent sectarian struggles for the minds and allegiance of the Scottish people. Another tussle between allegiances to Europe or to England. Jan arrives in Kirkmouth to deliver an illuminated manuscript commissioned by the town’s Laird. But unforeseen circumstances complicate his mission.
In Kirkmouth where Catholicism once reigned, there’s a Protestant, puritan uprising in progress, an attempt to overthrow both the Catholic priesthood and the Catholic Laird. Jan’s forced to scrabble to survive, using the remnants of the illuminated volume to trade for food and lodgings. He takes advantage of local superstition to reinvent himself as a healer, claiming images from the book have the power to cure the afflicted. A move that leads to an unexpected downfall. Kohler doesn’t fill in historical details, he assumes prior knowledge - or expects his readers to follow up on the events he outlines.
Taken together Kohler’s two storylines raise issues around religious belief systems and Scotland’s historical development. The Scottish Reformation’s tied to the overthrow of medieval feudalism, the destruction of traditional ways of thinking in particular Scottish folkloric and mythical frameworks. A radical shift that paved the way for modernity but arguably enabled an individualism implicated in the rise of capitalism.
Influences from Scottish literature pervade Kohler’s novel from Stevenson’s Scottish gothic to Hugh McDiarmid’s modernist epic A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle - which also examines relations between Scotland’s identity and Christian institutions – to James Robertson’s reworking of Hogg in The Testament of Gideon Mack. Gillis seems to echo aspects of Robertson’s protagonist: both faithless, both take up posts as ministers in obscure towns, both are/were runners, both are transformed by an unexpected mystical encounter. Yet where Robertson was interested in exploring matters of faith versus disbelief, Kohler seems more invested in secular concerns, less engaged with themes around spirituality than with institutional forms of power and processes of commodification.
Church HQ is in the process of selling their Kirkmouth properties and land to Nichols for redevelopment and resale on the open market. The Church’s authority and relevance seems to have been vanquished by the very systems it helped to foster; while an increasingly grandiose Gillis sees God not as a route to salvation but to wealth and fame. The hand itself seems to have its own desires, consumed with a longing to express itself through art, to be reunited with a body focused on self-expression and creativity freed from constraints of patronage or politics.
Kohler’s inventive, complex piece raises more questions than it supplies answers. It’s often bleakly comical, slightly surreal, even absurdist in tone. The sections presented from Jan’s perspective are particularly atmospheric, teasing out themes around deception and forms of belief – as in the memorable scenes involving the use of a dead calf to force a cow to lactate. It’s a book I found more intriguing than entirely satisfying, it often felt padded out – particularly Gillis’s sections – with some plotlines frustratingly underdeveloped and others overly so. At its best, it’s ambitious, intelligent with flashes of arresting imagery but it doesn’t quite live up to its promise - numerous stretches seemed repetitious, banal or redundant, tempting me to skim or fast forward.
Thanks to Netgalley and publisher Atlantic Books for an ARC
Gillis’s everyday ministry’s limited, the local kirk’s no longer a community hub, instead of services most of Gillis’s time is taken up with presiding over funerals, a ritualistic, performative role. But then he unearths a disembodied, male hand buried close to his manse. The hand shows no signs of decomposition, and appears to be alive. Gillis gives the hand a pen but instead of presenting a coherent account of its origins, it constructs a series of rudimentary, mysterious drawings. The hand attracts the attention of Nichol a developer, business owner, and major local employer. Nichol believes the hand may be a holy relic with healing powers, powers that might be exploited for financial gain. Gillis however begins to view the hand as a sign from God, one that might lead to his becoming a religious leader/prophet – rather like the American evangelical preachers who use religion as a means of amassing private fortunes.
Kohler interweaves Gillis’s narrative with the story of the hand’s owner Jan, an apprentice painter from what’s now the Netherlands. Jan’s narrative unfolds in the sixteenth century during the turbulent beginnings of the Scottish Reformation, marked by violent sectarian struggles for the minds and allegiance of the Scottish people. Another tussle between allegiances to Europe or to England. Jan arrives in Kirkmouth to deliver an illuminated manuscript commissioned by the town’s Laird. But unforeseen circumstances complicate his mission.
In Kirkmouth where Catholicism once reigned, there’s a Protestant, puritan uprising in progress, an attempt to overthrow both the Catholic priesthood and the Catholic Laird. Jan’s forced to scrabble to survive, using the remnants of the illuminated volume to trade for food and lodgings. He takes advantage of local superstition to reinvent himself as a healer, claiming images from the book have the power to cure the afflicted. A move that leads to an unexpected downfall. Kohler doesn’t fill in historical details, he assumes prior knowledge - or expects his readers to follow up on the events he outlines.
Taken together Kohler’s two storylines raise issues around religious belief systems and Scotland’s historical development. The Scottish Reformation’s tied to the overthrow of medieval feudalism, the destruction of traditional ways of thinking in particular Scottish folkloric and mythical frameworks. A radical shift that paved the way for modernity but arguably enabled an individualism implicated in the rise of capitalism.
Influences from Scottish literature pervade Kohler’s novel from Stevenson’s Scottish gothic to Hugh McDiarmid’s modernist epic A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle - which also examines relations between Scotland’s identity and Christian institutions – to James Robertson’s reworking of Hogg in The Testament of Gideon Mack. Gillis seems to echo aspects of Robertson’s protagonist: both faithless, both take up posts as ministers in obscure towns, both are/were runners, both are transformed by an unexpected mystical encounter. Yet where Robertson was interested in exploring matters of faith versus disbelief, Kohler seems more invested in secular concerns, less engaged with themes around spirituality than with institutional forms of power and processes of commodification.
Church HQ is in the process of selling their Kirkmouth properties and land to Nichols for redevelopment and resale on the open market. The Church’s authority and relevance seems to have been vanquished by the very systems it helped to foster; while an increasingly grandiose Gillis sees God not as a route to salvation but to wealth and fame. The hand itself seems to have its own desires, consumed with a longing to express itself through art, to be reunited with a body focused on self-expression and creativity freed from constraints of patronage or politics.
Kohler’s inventive, complex piece raises more questions than it supplies answers. It’s often bleakly comical, slightly surreal, even absurdist in tone. The sections presented from Jan’s perspective are particularly atmospheric, teasing out themes around deception and forms of belief – as in the memorable scenes involving the use of a dead calf to force a cow to lactate. It’s a book I found more intriguing than entirely satisfying, it often felt padded out – particularly Gillis’s sections – with some plotlines frustratingly underdeveloped and others overly so. At its best, it’s ambitious, intelligent with flashes of arresting imagery but it doesn’t quite live up to its promise - numerous stretches seemed repetitious, banal or redundant, tempting me to skim or fast forward.
Thanks to Netgalley and publisher Atlantic Books for an ARC
January 8, 2025
(3.5) Ex-runner Gillis has become a minister in his hometown, Kirkmouth, mainly because he can’t think of anything else to do. In the first chapter of Phantom Limb, he finds a severed hand beneath a felled tree – a hand that seems alive, and can move, draw, and point at him in a disconcerting way. What will Gillis do with this ‘miracle’? While he tries to figure that out, he reconnects with ex-girlfriend Rachel and butts heads with local kingpin Nichol, who wants to turn Kirkmouth’s unloved kirk into luxury flats. Gillis’s story has a parallel in a second narrative set centuries earlier: this follows the travails of Jan, an apprentice painter who travels to Scotland to deliver a beautifully illustrated book to Kirkmouth’s laird, and instead finds himself caught up in unrest and accused of heresy.
Considering some of its themes, Phantom Limb has a surprisingly gentle, witty tone. It’s slow-moving – not a page-turner – which, of course, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The way Kohler writes the hand is charming, dare I say sort of cute. Gillis is a dreamer, fantasising about potential futures while doing little to make them happen. It’s a work that can be read as pleasantly entertaining on the surface, or interpreted in much more complex ways – though doing so might require additional reading or research if you’re not already familiar with the historical and theological context Kohler is referencing. I’m still not quite sure what to make of the drawings in the book, which reminded me of those in Strange Pictures: maybe they provide some key to it all, but if so I, like Gillis, couldn’t figure it out on my own.
For me, the most interesting moment in the book was a minor one. It’s in a flashback to Gillis’s life just prior to the main story, when he first meets the old minister he ends up succeeding. The older man talks about a drastic change in church attendance over his career, how once his zealous flock would ‘trip over themselves finding deviance from scripture, I’d get anonymous letters full of theories about how I was drifting into heresy... Now, whenever I have to write a sermon, I don’t even bother checking my spelling... I could say anything. We’re just biding time in there.’ This contrast between recent history and the present day, the turn towards a ‘people gone Godless’ and what that means (good or bad) for society more broadly, struck me as far more fascinating than the distant events of the Reformation. Give me a narrative about that!
Considering some of its themes, Phantom Limb has a surprisingly gentle, witty tone. It’s slow-moving – not a page-turner – which, of course, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The way Kohler writes the hand is charming, dare I say sort of cute. Gillis is a dreamer, fantasising about potential futures while doing little to make them happen. It’s a work that can be read as pleasantly entertaining on the surface, or interpreted in much more complex ways – though doing so might require additional reading or research if you’re not already familiar with the historical and theological context Kohler is referencing. I’m still not quite sure what to make of the drawings in the book, which reminded me of those in Strange Pictures: maybe they provide some key to it all, but if so I, like Gillis, couldn’t figure it out on my own.
For me, the most interesting moment in the book was a minor one. It’s in a flashback to Gillis’s life just prior to the main story, when he first meets the old minister he ends up succeeding. The older man talks about a drastic change in church attendance over his career, how once his zealous flock would ‘trip over themselves finding deviance from scripture, I’d get anonymous letters full of theories about how I was drifting into heresy... Now, whenever I have to write a sermon, I don’t even bother checking my spelling... I could say anything. We’re just biding time in there.’ This contrast between recent history and the present day, the turn towards a ‘people gone Godless’ and what that means (good or bad) for society more broadly, struck me as far more fascinating than the distant events of the Reformation. Give me a narrative about that!
September 8, 2024
Experimental in its nature, this cynical and bleak vision of life in rural Scotland shows Kohler off as a writer to watch out for, rather than this particular piece of work.
The protagonist, Gillis, was a champion distance runner as a young man, but injury forced him to quit. Despite being of little faith, he has fallen into a job as a minister in his coastal Scottish town, living in the church house and spending most of his time taking funerals. At such a funeral he meets a girl friend from the past, Rachel, though even she is put off by Gillis’s increasingly erratic behaviour, caused by his discovery of a severed hand, found by his house, which he keeps in a biscuit tin, and somehow has an ability to sketch strange pictures.
The absurdity of some of the more ‘realistic’ elements of this novel make it difficult to suspend disbelief when things start getting supernatural.
The protagonist, Gillis, was a champion distance runner as a young man, but injury forced him to quit. Despite being of little faith, he has fallen into a job as a minister in his coastal Scottish town, living in the church house and spending most of his time taking funerals. At such a funeral he meets a girl friend from the past, Rachel, though even she is put off by Gillis’s increasingly erratic behaviour, caused by his discovery of a severed hand, found by his house, which he keeps in a biscuit tin, and somehow has an ability to sketch strange pictures.
The absurdity of some of the more ‘realistic’ elements of this novel make it difficult to suspend disbelief when things start getting supernatural.
January 10, 2025
Chris Kohler’s Phantom Limb tells two parallel stories set in a divided Scotland, centuries apart. The main plot follows Gillis, an agnostic minister in modern Scotland, whose life unravels after discovering a seemingly sentient but disembodied hand on the grounds of his manse. The subplot follows Jan, an apprentice painter, in 16th-century Scotland, on an ill-fated journey to deliver a specially commissioned book to a Scottish laird.
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This debut novel is layered and thought-provoking. I was immediately intrigued by the macabre premise of the phantom hand creating unsettling illustrations, and I was impressed by the nuanced characterisation of Gillis and his ex-girlfriend, Rachel. Both are deeply flawed, complex, and often unlikeable, yet ultimately sympathetic.
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Jan’s story, while immersive, felt underdeveloped compared to Gillis’s, and the novel could definetly have benefited from expanding Jan’s narrative and trimming some of Gillis’s.
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Phantom Limb balances absurdism and humor with sharp commentary on religion, power, and Scotland’s identity. Kohler draws cynical parallels between the Reformation, the Referendum, and the shift from religion to capitalism. While the novel doesn’t seem to reach a firm conclusion (or, if it did, I wasn't smart enough to understand it), its exploration of power, corruption, and human nature is uniquely compelling.
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That said, the novel’s sense of place felt oddly flat. For a story so rooted in Scottish identity, the setting lacked a distinctively Scottish character, leaving it feeling as though it could have taken place anywhere.
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This isn't a perfect book by any stretch of the imagination, but there is something intelligent and darkly quirky about it that make it a stand out read.
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This debut novel is layered and thought-provoking. I was immediately intrigued by the macabre premise of the phantom hand creating unsettling illustrations, and I was impressed by the nuanced characterisation of Gillis and his ex-girlfriend, Rachel. Both are deeply flawed, complex, and often unlikeable, yet ultimately sympathetic.
📚
Jan’s story, while immersive, felt underdeveloped compared to Gillis’s, and the novel could definetly have benefited from expanding Jan’s narrative and trimming some of Gillis’s.
📚
Phantom Limb balances absurdism and humor with sharp commentary on religion, power, and Scotland’s identity. Kohler draws cynical parallels between the Reformation, the Referendum, and the shift from religion to capitalism. While the novel doesn’t seem to reach a firm conclusion (or, if it did, I wasn't smart enough to understand it), its exploration of power, corruption, and human nature is uniquely compelling.
📚
That said, the novel’s sense of place felt oddly flat. For a story so rooted in Scottish identity, the setting lacked a distinctively Scottish character, leaving it feeling as though it could have taken place anywhere.
📚
This isn't a perfect book by any stretch of the imagination, but there is something intelligent and darkly quirky about it that make it a stand out read.
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July 29, 2024
Phantom Limb is the debut novel by Scottish author Chris Kohler. Blending elements of magical realism, thriller and satire, along with the classic Scottish wit and humour, the narrative unfolds in two interwoven plots: a contemporary Scottish tale and a parallel medieval story.
The book mainly follows young, agnostic church minister Gillis on an unexpected journey when he falls into a hole left by an ancient tree in the churchyard, discovering a severed hand. As he was “reaching for it just as it began to move and turned slightly and curled as through pointing a single accusing finger at his forehead.” This event thrusts him into a world of miracles, confusion, and purpose. Kohler’s darkly comic and surreal writing style creates a unique and compelling reading experience, capturing the authenticity of everyday speech through great dialogues (or monologues).
Gillis is a complex and interesting character who seemingly loses his grip on reality after encountering the severed hand. This forces him to confront his own beliefs (or lack thereof) and question the nature of miracles bestowed by this unusual companion. Exploring Gillis’s interactions and evolution throughout the novel, particularly his relationships, proved fascinating. His dialogues with Nichol, a ruthless entrepreneur, are engaging. Nichol is an equally interesting character with a questionable moral compass. Early on, we learn of Gillis's past as a promising young athlete who abandons his girlfriend, Rachel, to pursue his aspirations in London. Then, after injuring his knee, he returns to Scotland and begins working as a corporate minister when his ex-girlfriend shows up requesting a funeral for her dead husband. This encounter is charged with hidden consequences revealed throughout the book.
The novel accompanies Gillis as he tries to understand the severed hand's story, desires and capabilities, whilst dealing with his past, a life of solitude and frustrations (especially with his bad knee). His faith is tested, and he seeks to comprehend their extraordinary connection. The severed hand’s consciousness, portrayed through enigmatic drawings and an inquisitive finger, adds mystery. It provides a unique opportunity to explore philosophical questions about religion, identity, and the afterlife.
As the story progresses and the severed hand becomes public knowledge, Kohler employs mechanisms of Thriller, blending even more different genres and showcasing his storytelling skills. I particularly enjoyed the police parts and how quirky they were. The police officers, confronted with an otherworldly phenomenon of a moving severed hand, become comical characters, their reactions portraying society's disbelief in the face of the unknown. It's in these moments that Kohler truly excels.
The secondary plot focuses on Jan, an apprentice painter, tasked with delivering a commissioned holy book to a Laird. After many years of producing the book, Jan goes on a journey where he almost loses his life, ruins the book, and faces great hardship. Although one might infer Jan’s connection to Gillis’s story, it isn’t until late in the book that it significantly contributes. Here, there is a clear attempt to contrast the Protestant religion with the Catholic, although not at length.
While the book is brilliantly written, I did not care for Jan’s parts. I reckon he could serve as a commentary on idolatry and iconostasis, but the chapters did not enrich the reading experience and frequently broke the pacing of Gillis’s story. Nevertheless, Phantom Limb remains a thought-provoking and innovative work of fiction. Its premise—an animated, severed hand—offers fertile ground for examining complex themes such as faith, the supernatural, and religion. Kohler skilfully blends humour, horror, and philosophy, resulting in a unique and quirky book.
Kohler’s writing style effectively balances the surreal with the mundane, creating a world that feels both familiar and unsettling. Set against the Scottish coast, the novel delves into the supernatural and the human condition. Its exploration of mental health, trauma, and denial provides rich psychological depth with outstanding character development.
Ultimately, Phantom Limb is a novel that serves as a social commentary on modern religious institutions and mental health, through the exploration between the human and the divine. I recommend this book to readers of Scottish literature, magical realism, or genre-bending. Phantom Limb is a solid novel, with plenty to discuss and I cannot wait to read more from Chris Kohler.
Many thanks to Atlantic Books and NetGalley for the eARC in exchange for my honest review. #PhantomLimb #NetGalley
The book mainly follows young, agnostic church minister Gillis on an unexpected journey when he falls into a hole left by an ancient tree in the churchyard, discovering a severed hand. As he was “reaching for it just as it began to move and turned slightly and curled as through pointing a single accusing finger at his forehead.” This event thrusts him into a world of miracles, confusion, and purpose. Kohler’s darkly comic and surreal writing style creates a unique and compelling reading experience, capturing the authenticity of everyday speech through great dialogues (or monologues).
Gillis is a complex and interesting character who seemingly loses his grip on reality after encountering the severed hand. This forces him to confront his own beliefs (or lack thereof) and question the nature of miracles bestowed by this unusual companion. Exploring Gillis’s interactions and evolution throughout the novel, particularly his relationships, proved fascinating. His dialogues with Nichol, a ruthless entrepreneur, are engaging. Nichol is an equally interesting character with a questionable moral compass. Early on, we learn of Gillis's past as a promising young athlete who abandons his girlfriend, Rachel, to pursue his aspirations in London. Then, after injuring his knee, he returns to Scotland and begins working as a corporate minister when his ex-girlfriend shows up requesting a funeral for her dead husband. This encounter is charged with hidden consequences revealed throughout the book.
The novel accompanies Gillis as he tries to understand the severed hand's story, desires and capabilities, whilst dealing with his past, a life of solitude and frustrations (especially with his bad knee). His faith is tested, and he seeks to comprehend their extraordinary connection. The severed hand’s consciousness, portrayed through enigmatic drawings and an inquisitive finger, adds mystery. It provides a unique opportunity to explore philosophical questions about religion, identity, and the afterlife.
As the story progresses and the severed hand becomes public knowledge, Kohler employs mechanisms of Thriller, blending even more different genres and showcasing his storytelling skills. I particularly enjoyed the police parts and how quirky they were. The police officers, confronted with an otherworldly phenomenon of a moving severed hand, become comical characters, their reactions portraying society's disbelief in the face of the unknown. It's in these moments that Kohler truly excels.
The secondary plot focuses on Jan, an apprentice painter, tasked with delivering a commissioned holy book to a Laird. After many years of producing the book, Jan goes on a journey where he almost loses his life, ruins the book, and faces great hardship. Although one might infer Jan’s connection to Gillis’s story, it isn’t until late in the book that it significantly contributes. Here, there is a clear attempt to contrast the Protestant religion with the Catholic, although not at length.
While the book is brilliantly written, I did not care for Jan’s parts. I reckon he could serve as a commentary on idolatry and iconostasis, but the chapters did not enrich the reading experience and frequently broke the pacing of Gillis’s story. Nevertheless, Phantom Limb remains a thought-provoking and innovative work of fiction. Its premise—an animated, severed hand—offers fertile ground for examining complex themes such as faith, the supernatural, and religion. Kohler skilfully blends humour, horror, and philosophy, resulting in a unique and quirky book.
Kohler’s writing style effectively balances the surreal with the mundane, creating a world that feels both familiar and unsettling. Set against the Scottish coast, the novel delves into the supernatural and the human condition. Its exploration of mental health, trauma, and denial provides rich psychological depth with outstanding character development.
Ultimately, Phantom Limb is a novel that serves as a social commentary on modern religious institutions and mental health, through the exploration between the human and the divine. I recommend this book to readers of Scottish literature, magical realism, or genre-bending. Phantom Limb is a solid novel, with plenty to discuss and I cannot wait to read more from Chris Kohler.
Many thanks to Atlantic Books and NetGalley for the eARC in exchange for my honest review. #PhantomLimb #NetGalley
December 22, 2025
A very interesting book. Wish I knew what it meant!
August 18, 2024
Chris Kohler's first novel Phantom Limb follows the story of an agnostic Church minister, Gillis, who finds a seemingly sentient, moving severed hand in the ground. Parts thriller, part satire, we follow Gillis as he explores why he found the hand and what it means for his faith, or lack thereof.
Intercepted within this story is another, set in decades past, of an apprentice painter named Jan. While initially I found these chapters a bit less appealing, as both stories developed I really enjoyed switching back and forth between the two characters and seeing certain themes overlap and intwine with one another. (I do feel that going in with limited knowledge of the story really helped to keep me immersed here, so I suggest others avoid seeking too many spoilers before reading.)
Kohler's writing turned what could be quite a slightly unlikeable main character (Gillis) into someone we can deeply sympathise with. Even with the magical elements of the moving Thing-like hand I felt that the Scottish town and it's inhabitants made the whole story feel grounded and realistic. I also enjoyed the many themes of this book, on the surface there is the matter of faith but also the often sought after feeling of wishing we could go back and fix past mistakes and more generally the themes of trauma, denial and how we treat each other are all tackled with a voice that I feel is entirely specific to Kohler.
The slight slowness of Jan's sections at the start did mean it took me a few chapters to get wholly into the rhythm of the story, but altogether it makes for an incredibly rich and layered novel. I really enjoy Kohler's writing style and Phantom Limb has me very excited to see what he writes next. Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC of this book.
Intercepted within this story is another, set in decades past, of an apprentice painter named Jan. While initially I found these chapters a bit less appealing, as both stories developed I really enjoyed switching back and forth between the two characters and seeing certain themes overlap and intwine with one another. (I do feel that going in with limited knowledge of the story really helped to keep me immersed here, so I suggest others avoid seeking too many spoilers before reading.)
Kohler's writing turned what could be quite a slightly unlikeable main character (Gillis) into someone we can deeply sympathise with. Even with the magical elements of the moving Thing-like hand I felt that the Scottish town and it's inhabitants made the whole story feel grounded and realistic. I also enjoyed the many themes of this book, on the surface there is the matter of faith but also the often sought after feeling of wishing we could go back and fix past mistakes and more generally the themes of trauma, denial and how we treat each other are all tackled with a voice that I feel is entirely specific to Kohler.
The slight slowness of Jan's sections at the start did mean it took me a few chapters to get wholly into the rhythm of the story, but altogether it makes for an incredibly rich and layered novel. I really enjoy Kohler's writing style and Phantom Limb has me very excited to see what he writes next. Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC of this book.
December 3, 2024
FINALLY ! Scottish religious trauma !!!!
September 19, 2024
Gillis is a minister, but he doesn’t believe in God. He’s mainly there for the free house, car and drinks he’s plied with at the wakes of the funerals he runs on an almost daily basis in the small Scottish fishing town he’s found himself back in.
Down on his luck and out of the running game after a bad knee injury (from kicking an English guy in the arse), he ekes out a perfectly fine, if not slightly isolated, life in the manse next to the kirk he runs his sermons every Sunday. That is until one night, after one too many free pints down the local, he falls into the dug up pit of a felled elm tree and finds a severed hand crawling around in there, that upon discovery, turns to point directly at him. He gives it a pen, and it scribbles strange and unsettling drawings hinting to its history, and Gillis takes this as a sign that he has been chosen as a Prophet - is this finally his moment of glory where the mistakes of his past, his failed sporting career and pathetic love life, will finally turn around?
Gillis’s sections are interspersed with the story of an apprentice painter with the sole job of delivering a gilded book to a catholic Laird hundreds of years previous during the bloody Scottish reformation. Jan’s story cleverly echoes and links to Gillis’ as the book progresses and shows history, due to the egocentricism of man, is always fated to repeat itself.
Phantom Limb is a surreal, funny holy relic of a novel that reckons with the creation myths of Scotland, the emptiness of modern existence and the inherent need for humans to matter.
Down on his luck and out of the running game after a bad knee injury (from kicking an English guy in the arse), he ekes out a perfectly fine, if not slightly isolated, life in the manse next to the kirk he runs his sermons every Sunday. That is until one night, after one too many free pints down the local, he falls into the dug up pit of a felled elm tree and finds a severed hand crawling around in there, that upon discovery, turns to point directly at him. He gives it a pen, and it scribbles strange and unsettling drawings hinting to its history, and Gillis takes this as a sign that he has been chosen as a Prophet - is this finally his moment of glory where the mistakes of his past, his failed sporting career and pathetic love life, will finally turn around?
Gillis’s sections are interspersed with the story of an apprentice painter with the sole job of delivering a gilded book to a catholic Laird hundreds of years previous during the bloody Scottish reformation. Jan’s story cleverly echoes and links to Gillis’ as the book progresses and shows history, due to the egocentricism of man, is always fated to repeat itself.
Phantom Limb is a surreal, funny holy relic of a novel that reckons with the creation myths of Scotland, the emptiness of modern existence and the inherent need for humans to matter.
August 20, 2025
Why was this book so long when the plot is so thin? The only thing that drew me in was the premise; a minister finding a severed hand in the ground one day. So I thought maybe it’d be some horror, some intersection of that and religious elements.
Nope. None of that. There’s no explanation on the hand. While most of the book was boring, the intermittent chapters on the guy’s severed hand is even more boring. I still don’t get why the hand does what it does, why anyone does what they do in this book.
Should have DNF when I had the chance.
Nope. None of that. There’s no explanation on the hand. While most of the book was boring, the intermittent chapters on the guy’s severed hand is even more boring. I still don’t get why the hand does what it does, why anyone does what they do in this book.
Should have DNF when I had the chance.
August 20, 2024
stunning!
November 20, 2025
Saltire - Scottish National Book Award Debut of the Year
This is a very distinctive and unsettling debut novel – which I think examines how the Scottish reformation lies buried in rural Scottish society to this day, despite the prevalence of agnosticism.
It is told from the third party viewpoint of Gillis – now in his early thirties and a minister in the Church of Scotland in a remote and largely run-down coastal town where the only remaining industry is fishing-dominated, that in turn being increasingly centred around some large (and for from organic) salmon farms with the harbour and fishing boats returning increasingly diminished catches and with all of these (as well as the local hotel, smokehouses and it seems the manse in which Gillis lives and the crumbling Kirk next to it) owned by a local man Nicholson (known to all as Nichol).
Gillis we learn early on was a successful long distance cross country/road-race athlete as a youth (having turned to it after an abortive football career) and moved to England with dreams of fame – only for his knackered knees to put pay to his success. Drifting in England for some years – and having broken off with his Scottish girlfriend Rachel (who he knew since primary school) – he has returned to his home area after a divinity degree despite a lack of belief (“Never believed in God, or heaven, or anything. Just needed the work and wanted a house and a decent car. He knew heaven was empty, so who would it hurt?”). Now his work consist almost entirely of carrying out funerals.
Two key incidents begin the book:
Firstly, falling down a hole left by a falling elm tree which has undermined and cracked the Kirk he finds a severed hand which appears still to be alive – capable of pointing and producing crude but disturbing sketches (which are threaded through the book). Gillis feels it is somehow a message from God but does not know how to receive the message and disturbs people by showing them the drawings, while carrying the hand in a shortbread tin.
Secondly a funeral he is asked to take turns out to be for the husband of Rachel (now mother to a small boy Jamie) who has gone missing at sea – the husband a bookkeeper for Nichol had gone out to sea on one of Nichol’s boats (something he enjoyed doing) still wearing his office clothes and was swept overboard – his body now missing (although later found which gives rise to a second funeral which forms the climax of the book).
Then when Nichol finds the hand – after a post funeral tussle with Gillis as who thinks the pictures are somehow pointing out his culpability in Rachel’s husband’s death (as a key aside this winds up with Gills and Rachel spending the night together after she tends his wounds) – he comes round the next day to say that the hand has somehow cured a chronic skin condition with which he suffered.
Nichol then tries to draw Gillis into two schemes: to persuade the church to deconsecrate the Kirk and move the bodies in the graveyard so as to facilitate his plans to bail out his fading and infection-affected fish-farms by developing the Kirk into flats; to somehow monetise the miracle producing impact of the hand – which also seems to cure Nichol’s secretaries cancer and later the fish-blight.
But Gillis is increasingly drawn to almost messianic visions of his destiny as some form of prophet – able to lead Scotland into national renewal and a rediscovery of faith (for example believing the hand is the first part of the discovery of a long buried national hero).
While to others – Rachel (considering a restored relationship with him but disturbed by his behaviour); Gillis’s father (convinced that Gillis has committed murder and trying to get him to escape); the authorities (police and medical) and the church (who are already considering axing Gillis’s post due to its lack of revenue) – Gillis’s behaviour is increasingly erratic and demanding of intervention.
Gillis’s story is though only the main narrative. Interleaved through his story is one set many hundreds of years earlier in what we intuit is the same location. A young apprentice painter Jan is on his way to deliver a lavishly illustrated Book Of Hours and Prayers to the Laird of Hamilton (a commissioned gift by the Laird for his wife) when he is swept off board and washed up on a river with the book already damaged. His attempts to deliver the damaged book are rebuffed and he finds himself caught up in a violent anti-superstition/Catholicism uprising by a group of austere black jacketed men (to which he claims the book was part of a devilish plot) and then later a counter-revolution with the black jackets treated as heretics to be burnt (in which he is again caught up). During all of this the book gets more and more cut up and damaged – and Jan makes something of a living firstly trading extracts of the book for food and lodgings and then later using torn strips of the book as miraculous charms as an itinerant (if rather fraudulent) healer and holy man.
Increasingly we see the stories converge and both reach a climax (Gillis’s at the second funeral and with a dramatic roof top escape ended by a lightning strike; Jan’s when his hand is put to the flames) and a convergence.
Overall, I found this a very distinctive novel – if not a completely successful one. The modern day sections worked really well for me – there is an offbeat humour and the side characters (Nichols, Rachel and Gillis’s Dad) and their relationships have a satisfactory level of complexity and ambiguity to them. The historic sections did not quite work so well for me – more based on empirical evidence as I was always pleased to return to Gillis’s story. I was also unsure that I really grasped everything that was happening – in particular the drawings (whose very inclusion in the story seems to herald their importance) remained unclear to me in their meaning – and perhaps that could go for the whole novel in that I was not fully clear if there was a deeper meaning to the novel beyond its intriguing quirkiness.
My thanks to Atlantic Books for an ARC via NetGalley
Gillis tried to explain. How the ancient elm tree in the manse garden had been leaning toward the kirk, and the spire had started to crack. So they had to pull the tree out. And Gillis had fallen into the hole they’d left and found this hand. Which was strange enough, but the hand could actually move and it drew pictures as if it was trying to tell us all something, though it was anyone’s guess what the images were meant to represent. ‘Here, wait here,’ he said, and grabbed the papers from the kitchen table, then brandished them at his father. He told him how recently, only last week, there had been a miracle. The flash of light, the angel, the insects and the fish.
This is a very distinctive and unsettling debut novel – which I think examines how the Scottish reformation lies buried in rural Scottish society to this day, despite the prevalence of agnosticism.
It is told from the third party viewpoint of Gillis – now in his early thirties and a minister in the Church of Scotland in a remote and largely run-down coastal town where the only remaining industry is fishing-dominated, that in turn being increasingly centred around some large (and for from organic) salmon farms with the harbour and fishing boats returning increasingly diminished catches and with all of these (as well as the local hotel, smokehouses and it seems the manse in which Gillis lives and the crumbling Kirk next to it) owned by a local man Nicholson (known to all as Nichol).
Gillis we learn early on was a successful long distance cross country/road-race athlete as a youth (having turned to it after an abortive football career) and moved to England with dreams of fame – only for his knackered knees to put pay to his success. Drifting in England for some years – and having broken off with his Scottish girlfriend Rachel (who he knew since primary school) – he has returned to his home area after a divinity degree despite a lack of belief (“Never believed in God, or heaven, or anything. Just needed the work and wanted a house and a decent car. He knew heaven was empty, so who would it hurt?”). Now his work consist almost entirely of carrying out funerals.
Two key incidents begin the book:
Firstly, falling down a hole left by a falling elm tree which has undermined and cracked the Kirk he finds a severed hand which appears still to be alive – capable of pointing and producing crude but disturbing sketches (which are threaded through the book). Gillis feels it is somehow a message from God but does not know how to receive the message and disturbs people by showing them the drawings, while carrying the hand in a shortbread tin.
Secondly a funeral he is asked to take turns out to be for the husband of Rachel (now mother to a small boy Jamie) who has gone missing at sea – the husband a bookkeeper for Nichol had gone out to sea on one of Nichol’s boats (something he enjoyed doing) still wearing his office clothes and was swept overboard – his body now missing (although later found which gives rise to a second funeral which forms the climax of the book).
Then when Nichol finds the hand – after a post funeral tussle with Gillis as who thinks the pictures are somehow pointing out his culpability in Rachel’s husband’s death (as a key aside this winds up with Gills and Rachel spending the night together after she tends his wounds) – he comes round the next day to say that the hand has somehow cured a chronic skin condition with which he suffered.
Nichol then tries to draw Gillis into two schemes: to persuade the church to deconsecrate the Kirk and move the bodies in the graveyard so as to facilitate his plans to bail out his fading and infection-affected fish-farms by developing the Kirk into flats; to somehow monetise the miracle producing impact of the hand – which also seems to cure Nichol’s secretaries cancer and later the fish-blight.
But Gillis is increasingly drawn to almost messianic visions of his destiny as some form of prophet – able to lead Scotland into national renewal and a rediscovery of faith (for example believing the hand is the first part of the discovery of a long buried national hero).
While to others – Rachel (considering a restored relationship with him but disturbed by his behaviour); Gillis’s father (convinced that Gillis has committed murder and trying to get him to escape); the authorities (police and medical) and the church (who are already considering axing Gillis’s post due to its lack of revenue) – Gillis’s behaviour is increasingly erratic and demanding of intervention.
Gillis’s story is though only the main narrative. Interleaved through his story is one set many hundreds of years earlier in what we intuit is the same location. A young apprentice painter Jan is on his way to deliver a lavishly illustrated Book Of Hours and Prayers to the Laird of Hamilton (a commissioned gift by the Laird for his wife) when he is swept off board and washed up on a river with the book already damaged. His attempts to deliver the damaged book are rebuffed and he finds himself caught up in a violent anti-superstition/Catholicism uprising by a group of austere black jacketed men (to which he claims the book was part of a devilish plot) and then later a counter-revolution with the black jackets treated as heretics to be burnt (in which he is again caught up). During all of this the book gets more and more cut up and damaged – and Jan makes something of a living firstly trading extracts of the book for food and lodgings and then later using torn strips of the book as miraculous charms as an itinerant (if rather fraudulent) healer and holy man.
Increasingly we see the stories converge and both reach a climax (Gillis’s at the second funeral and with a dramatic roof top escape ended by a lightning strike; Jan’s when his hand is put to the flames) and a convergence.
Overall, I found this a very distinctive novel – if not a completely successful one. The modern day sections worked really well for me – there is an offbeat humour and the side characters (Nichols, Rachel and Gillis’s Dad) and their relationships have a satisfactory level of complexity and ambiguity to them. The historic sections did not quite work so well for me – more based on empirical evidence as I was always pleased to return to Gillis’s story. I was also unsure that I really grasped everything that was happening – in particular the drawings (whose very inclusion in the story seems to herald their importance) remained unclear to me in their meaning – and perhaps that could go for the whole novel in that I was not fully clear if there was a deeper meaning to the novel beyond its intriguing quirkiness.
My thanks to Atlantic Books for an ARC via NetGalley
A loose spiral of seagulls ascended to heaven and returned with no message save an incoherent screech. On the horizon, blurred between cloud and sea, no drones and no missile strikes. The established powers seemed to suspect nothing. Why would the light of God’s grace and truth have fallen here? Rain and cloud and roof tile, moss and bird shit, he pushed himself to climb further. To the very peak of the spire and the upright cross. A golden door might open? Something might be passed to him. Or he might be asked to return the hand to its original owner. The Archangel Michael, or the Pale Rider who announces the end of this world. Or maybe he would be welcomed inside, into the hallways of heaven. The waiting rooms. The conference centre. Might meet one of those terrible beings, the ones with eyes all over its wings and wings all over its eyes. Wheels spinning above and below. A sword for a tongue. He wished he had his Bible with him. Gillis could slip in and out of these ideas, believing, then not believing, toggling between third and first person, staring down at the crown of his own head, embarrassed and selfconscious. Then back behind his own eyes, staring down at the shortbread tin held in front of him like a weapon.
August 27, 2025
Review, December 2024: I don’t read many books soon after publication (relevant XKCD), so the first thing that struck me about this was the anti-AI disclaimer sandwiched between ‘all rights reserved’ and ‘all resemblance to real persons is merely coincidental’. Is that becoming common? Anyway. ‘Shows promise’ often damns with faint praise, especially when authors are so often taking a risk in writing at all and are lucky to find a publisher for one book, never mind getting a second. But here I mean it sincerely: this book’s vices are the vices of a passion project that the author was maybe a bit too close to, and its virtues are many. Great examination of how our minds can never work at the object level, we are always stuck on meta. I would certainly read a second novel from Kohler; I hope he gets one, even if the base rates are against him.
November 21, 2025
A chilling, emotional, and slightly deranged tale about religious guilt, forgiveness, and reformation (in both the denominational sense and also the self-improvement sense haha). I loooved the idea of the hand as a physical manifestation of Gillis' guilt about his past and failure as an athlete, and even as his impostor syndrome as a minister. I also really liked the progression from him taking the job as a minister as just employment to finding divine justification for his actions later in the novel.
That said, I think the book was just a little too long, and could have been cut down a bit, as I think it started to lose its way around the 250-350 page mark. I loved the illustrations though – very chilling.
That said, I think the book was just a little too long, and could have been cut down a bit, as I think it started to lose its way around the 250-350 page mark. I loved the illustrations though – very chilling.
September 21, 2024
This is an unusual book but worth reading. I think I read a review in the Guardian and thought 'this seems interesting' and it is...but I am still not sure what it all meant! There are two stories, connected by a severed hand that can move. Is it about the futility of life, the futility of belief? I don't know but it kept me interested to the point that I had to finish it last night to know what happens in the end. Personally, I would have liked the many loose threads tied up neatly...but life isn't like that. I am going to read something a little easier on the brain and heart now...
November 7, 2025
Interesting & experimental premise, but unfortunately there is little payoff at the end. The magical realism aspects of the severed hand, including the cryptic drawings it created, aren't truly the focus. This is fine, as the focus leans towards Gillis' mental undoing due to finding the hand - but the lack of mysticism leads to everything being tied up pretty quickly in the end. The book being tied off in a neat knot seems like the author ran out of ideas on how to carry the religious mysticism further. The climax wasn't climaxing enough, and it was a bit too slow to start off with.
November 9, 2025
🌟🌟.75 stars
I felt this book carried many themes and stories and it was well paced and structured. Gillis was an odd character but I felt for him in an odd way and was intrigued by his persona. I was not so fond of the story set in the past of the ‘hand’ but felt it was relevant to the present day story. It was interesting to read a different style of novel
I felt this book carried many themes and stories and it was well paced and structured. Gillis was an odd character but I felt for him in an odd way and was intrigued by his persona. I was not so fond of the story set in the past of the ‘hand’ but felt it was relevant to the present day story. It was interesting to read a different style of novel
February 26, 2025
A not very good minister and former athlete finds a severed hand in his churchyard which appears to have a life and powers of its own.
Meanwhile Jan a Dutch apprentice artist gets mixed up in the religious persecutions of the Scottish reformation.
The two stories are linked.
Meanwhile Jan a Dutch apprentice artist gets mixed up in the religious persecutions of the Scottish reformation.
The two stories are linked.
December 3, 2025
when i started this book i was SO intrigued, but as it went on i was like waiting for something to happen that never actually happened, and then it ended without a reason or a "why" for any of it so seemed a little bit pointless - sorry author!!
December 21, 2025
and the crowd is.. confused? the whole time i was waiting for the penny to drop and it all to come together and explain itself and it just never did. i really thought the drag would pay off at some point but nope
August 8, 2025
Really liked this; it was a compelling read and I liked the dual narrative.
4.5 stars.
4.5 stars.
October 5, 2025
I really enjoyed this debut novel. the storyline was lovely and quirky. can't wait to read more.
January 19, 2025
I'm a bit torn on the rating for this book. It just felt like it lacked a real point in the end. The historical elements were interesting, but a lack of real closure and a general inconsistency in tone makes the book difficult to recommend.
September 24, 2024
This looked like exactly the kind of Scottish novel that I would love: experimental, a bit surreal, with a hint of state-of-the-nation angst thrown in. And whilst it opened interestingly enough, somehow I just couldn't connect with it. Maybe it needs a second reading, but it seems to be one of those books that others get more out of than I do.
The writing was good, and as Chris Kohler develops as I writer I will definitely keep an eye on his books in the future.
The writing was good, and as Chris Kohler develops as I writer I will definitely keep an eye on his books in the future.
November 15, 2025
Mr. B’s rec, was so excited based on summary but disappointed
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