An astonishingly inventive, playful, witty, poignant and deeply moving novel from one of Australia's most exciting writers. Margaret Bryce, deceased mother of twins, has been having a hard time since dying in 2014. These days she spends time with her daughters – Eva in Madrid, and Rachel and her family in Melbourne – and her estranged husband, Henry, in Aberdeen. Mostly she enjoys the experience of revisiting the past, but she's tiring of the seemingly random events to which she repeatedly bears witness. There must be something more to life, she thinks. And death. Spanning more than seventy-five years, from 1945 to 2021, A Country of Eternal Light follows Margaret as she flits from wartime Germany to Thatcher's Britain to modern-day Scotland, Australia and Spain, ruminating on everything from the Piper Alpha oil rig disaster and Australia's Black Summer bushfires to Mary Queen of Scots' beheading, the death of Princess Diana and in-vitro fertilisation. But why is facing up to what's happened in one's past as hard as, if not harder than, blocking it out completely? A poignant, utterly original and bitingly funny novel about complicated grief and how we remain wanted by our loved ones, dead or alive. PRAISE FOR A COUNTRY OF ETERNAL LIGHT 'Prepare to have your heart broken and mended and broken again as you flit with everywoman Margaret Bryce - Aberdonian housewife and unwilling phantom - through scenes in her life that tumble over its boundaries. Paul Dalgarno writes with mischievous delight and compassionate intelligence on that which animates us in the face of mortality, exhuming what is unremembered with clear-eyed wisdom and impeccable craft. I gasped in sheer wonder on finishing this illuminating meditation on the demands of grief, time and love that fragment and bind a family; Mary Shelley would clap her hands in delight at such an audacious creation' – Josephine Taylor, author of Eye of a Rook 'Paul Dalgarno's luminous novel is transportive, taking us on a metaphysical literary journey that interrogates the nature of death while exploring the outer limits of grief. Uncanny, evocative and droll, A Country of Eternal Light reminds us that no one is ever truly gone and sometimes, like this book, we don't want them to leave' – Chris Flynn, author of Mammoth 'A balance of electric brightness and sequestered shadows - a powerful, rollicking and memorable narrative. The reader is invited to be intimate with the experience of revisiting the past, hoping for the future and regretting what cannot be changed. A philosophical, emotional and entertaining work, startlingly imagined' – Angela Meyer, author of A Superior Spectre 'Wonderful, heartbreaking and beautiful. Dalgarno weaves time, family and love effortlessly. A book that will continue to echo in my heart' – R.W.R. McDonald, author of The Nancys 'Such playfulness of language and gloriousness of detail. So unique and inventive. I am in awe' – Michelle Johnston, author of Tiny Uncertain Miracles 'A magical and invigorating ride. A joyful, tender novel about an unusual family, showing playfulness at every turn' – Laura Elvery, author of Ordinary Matter 'Wildly inventive and bursting with heart, Paul Dalgarno's A Country of Eternal Light is one of the most original meditations on life, love and family you'll ever come across. At its core are the how is a life constructed from the memories we choose to remember, and what of those we'll do anything to forget? A kaleidoscopic novel wrestling with grand ideas, featuring an unforgettable protagonist and a sting in the tail that'll have you rushing back to the beginning to figure out how Dalgarno executed his devastating sleight-of-hand' – Wayne Marshall, author of Shirl 'I absolutely adored this book and the dark whimsy of its big-hearted narrator. A delicate exploration of love, loss and the small (yet significant) details that make up a human life, A Country of Eternal Light will both devastate and sustain you long after...
Paul Dalgarno is a Melbourne-based author from Aberdeen, Scotland. His memoir, And You May Find Yourself, was published by Sleepers Publishing in 2015. His debut novel, Poly, will be published by Ventura Press in July 2020.
Inventive family drama narrated from beyond the grave with dark, deathly humour. Decent snippets of the Scottish way of life dotted with smidgens of Aberdeen history. A bit slow.
This book is narrated by Margaret Bryce. She’s the wife of Henry, the mother of twins Eva and Rachel, grandmother to Rachel’s two sons and she’s dead. This isn’t a spoiler, it’s pretty obvious from early on that she’s revisiting events from her past and her family’s past and also some scenes from their lives after her death. Her narration is playful (she jokes about standing with no legs etc) and filled with love for her family. There is no specific timeline, it jumps around all over the place and it’s clear there’s a painful moment that she’s avoiding. The writing is excellent and for the most part i enjoyed it, I can’t say when it became unsatisfying. I found myself getting bored with the scene setting each time jump, where they are, how old they are, comments on hair and clothes….get on with it already! So much so that the big reveal fell a bit flat (oh I should’ve seen that coming I thought!). Perhaps if it had been shorter….
What a unique and innovative novel this was. Narrated by a woman who has passed away, we journey with her back and forth to different moments of her entire life, the big moments as well as the little ones. Margaret is witty, darkly so, perhaps in response to the fact that she’s dead and floating like an unseen presence within her previous life. She also is able to look beyond the timeframe of her death, looking in on her family and how they are going since the time she passed. She has no idea why she’s stuck, why she’s watching her life on repeat. There is a sense throughout the narrative that whilst Margaret is not privy to the reasons, then we won’t be either. I loved this immersion aspect utilised by Paul Dalgarno. We only know what Margaret knows and we only see what she sees.
In addition to Margaret being able to see her family’s lives beyond her death, looking back allows her to see things she may have missed within key moments whilst living them. Her commentary on this is at times wickedly funny. Things like bad haircuts on her daughters as children, things her husband has done that she mocks, her own attractiveness, which she is constantly crowing about. For a good while though, as a reader, you wonder where it’s all going. I’m not one for spoilers, but I will mention that I loved how it seemed that children could sense, possibly even see Margaret as a ghost. She herself was not sure of this, but the actions of the child characters in question seemed to indicate it to be so. I wondered if this was a playful hint that as children, we are more open to seeing beyond, a sense we lose as we age and become jaded by life and less willing to believe in the impossible.
And then you reach the point of it all. Absolutely breath-taking. This is a novel that I wanted to immediately read again, so that I could look for clues throughout, to see if I could pick it on the second read. I feel like I wouldn’t be able to though. The writing is such that it steers you here and there, yet never fully allows you to see the bigger picture until almost the end. It is an astonishingly clever novel that is deeply moving and profound in its messages about grief and living with loss. Highly recommended.
Loved this novel! It took me ages to finish it and not because it's not compelling - the narrative and its small and big mysteries are surely compelling. It's just that I wanted to savour the book slowly, because it is so rich thematically and in sub-text and allusions, and the language is wonderful. I wanted to enjoy the sentences rather than rush it. Paul really knows how to take a sentence and make it the best it can be - in terms of content, imagery and music. The language is often visceral, but without slowing the story down. Speaking of story, it is skillfully, tightly plotted, like a jigsaw puzzle. I'm sure I missed some stuff but what I did absorb is enticing; I especially love the motive of water, how it develops in the story and the use of Frankenstein novel as another central motive - the bookworm/nerd in me was having a ball!
This was an absolute gem to read. I loved Margaret’s reminiscing from the afterlife. It was a trip down memory lane for both her and me. You know a book is great when you’re guttered to have finished it.
So beautifully written with snippets of information been fed to us and major historical events been woven seamlessly across not the storyline but boy oh boy I was knocked for six towards the end, I was not expecting that!
I loved the fact that she could remember things from her youth, in fact things from all through her life and was able to see things once she had departed, particularly watching her grandchildren grow.
You‘ll laugh, you’ll cry and I promise you will adore Margaret!
Thanks to Harper Collins for my copy in exchange for an honest review. This has been my favourite read of the year. Utterly brilliant. An 11/10 read for sure
This Author takes you on quite a journey through the life of Margaret Bryce. This journey though has an interesting viewpoint. It's taken from Margaret's view after her death where she revisits her past life. Flipping through different era's from 1945 to 2021.
It's a heart warming but also heartbreaking story which at times made me reflect on my own life and how I would view it after death.
Thanks @harpercollinsaustralia for a truly remarkable read.
This book blew me away. I loved the character of Margaret and found myself nodding and giggling along with her, such a wry and loving soul. That Dalgarno has pulled off such a feat, to make a middle aged woman read so compellingly true to me, a middle aged woman, is to be applauded. The mystery at the heart of the book isn’t revealed until the very end, and in effect gives you two novels. The one that rolled along before you knew, and the complete revision that turns the first story on its head. Bravo. Loved it.
I absolutely loved it! Seeing Margaret’s life through random interactions was such a lovely way to get to know her, Eva, Rachel and Henry. I loved reflecting on how easily I came to see what was important to her through such everyday events. It’s a beautiful read, I’m so glad I got the opportunity x I’m not giving any spoilers, I just love the fact it all made sense in the end
"Have you abandoned me, spirit of dark and lonely water? Don’t be the fool, I was carrying you, precious child."
Margaret Bryce died in 2014, and she's having a hard time letting go. As an ethereal being, she is viewer to her life lived, and more than that, hoped for. She bears witness to hey greatest joys and sorrows, the mundane, and the historical. Keeping a watchful eye over her twins, Rachel and Eva, and her estranged husband, Henry, this novel will take you on a rollercoaster ride of emotions.
This tender book is a compassionate retelling of existence - as a woman, a mother, a wife. Margaret struggles to understand why she is seeing these snippets of her life in seemingly random order, and the twist at the end truly will rip your heart out. The feelings I had towards the people in her life were complicated, and cleverly challenge my empathetic thinking towards all of them in some way. A powerfully imagined story about the complicated nature of grief, to facing up to the past, and ultimately the power of love.
This one will stay with me.
Thank you to the publisher for providing me this book for my honest opinion.
Sits right up there with my faves of Australian lit. I held Margaret Bryce’s hand all the way through. Conjured into being with such clarity and empathy, you can help but wonder at the mind that created her. Dalgarno succeeds a sleight of pen that allows him to be both whimsical and deep in the same breath/ sentence. There is a hum of joy to his words and what words can do. He plays as much with them as with his readers, embarking us all on a strange zigzag of a journey (all the while without legs) spanning at least 6 decades and against the various backdrops of urban Scotland, Spain and Melbourne. We flit through time at the mercy of Margaret’s memory and I felt we were all- reader and author- as surprised as Margaret by the apparent randomness of the spatio-temporal itinerary. I laughed, looked up some new words (‘Doric’ in this context was a new one for me but don’t you just love language?), advanced in trepidation and sighed many sighs. Fabulous! An award contender for sure.
An absolute stunner of a book. Playful prose and a perfectly executed plot combined in what is probably the most joyful exploration of the afterlife I've read. And it really is an exploration. Margaret, our protagonist, is dead, and she is travelling between different moments of her life at a sometimes breakneck speed. We see her when she's young, middle-aged, old and gone. We see her at best and at her worst, when she's lost all hope and when all she knows is joy. We SEE her. This is a literary journey that somehow manages to be both bombastic and subtle all at once.
Truly I don't know how Paul pulled it off but he's done something special here, something you won't want to put down by the time you've finished the first page.
The writing itself was often beautiful and made me stop and think, and I quite enjoyed getting to know each character, despite not being quite sure of what journey we were on together. I think the choppiness of the narrative made it difficult to follow towards the end - there wasn’t a driving plot for most of the novel, mostly due to the lack of a linear timeline. There are a lot of powerful moments that will stay with me, and definitely a lot to digest, but looking back on the story in its entirety leaves me slightly disappointed.
The journey I *thought* the book was taking me and the one it actually took me on were two completely different experiences. As the book came to a close it unravelled me and a little piece of my heart broke. I can see why people are responding to it. It’s quite special. It’s also a book you want to re-read as soon as you’ve finished to see what you missed the first time. Perspective is everything …
The title of this book comes from a quote by Mary Shelley in Frankenstein: “What may not be expected in a country of eternal light?” Apparently the 'country of eternal light' is not a literal place, but a metaphorical representation often used in literature to depict a state of ideal existence or a place of constant goodness and light.
I’m not really sure about the title or about the references to Frankenstein which sprinkle this novel. I didn’t really get the connection. But I really love the narrator of the book – who is a woman who has died of ovarian cancer. She is somehow not able to find peace (the country of eternal light?) but is hooked into her life story and into providing glimpses of this and the lives of family members – even after her death. It sounds hokey doesn’t it but the voice of Margaret is playful and beguiling and oddly human for a woman with no physical presence. She says: “I don’t know what I’m doing here, and by here I mean here, there and everywhere […] Is there a purpose? I don’t know. Maybe I can save someone? Save myself? Send myself an SOS.”
I totally agreed with this comment from reviewer Jennifer Mills [who has also written a novel with a disembodied spirit.} “However, the success of a first-person narration comes down to character, and Margaret’s company is a pleasure. Disarmingly direct in a late-life (well, after-life), no-fucks-left way, she’s honest with the reader, even when she’s not being honest with herself. It is always good to meet an older woman in fiction who remains complex and human and flawed, never a victim of her life and never a villain. She is fully embodied to such an extent that she sometimes forgets she doesn’t have a body at all.” (https://www.australianbookreview.com....)
SPOILER AHEAD
The narrative is delivered in short first-person fragments of Margarets life – and it bounces around a lot in time so you might see her as a young girl yearning for a pet mouse and this till immediately be followed by a fragment focussing on her grown-up daughter’s family or Margaret’s job as a telephonist in Aberdeen or her husband’s mental illness. It works because Margaret is a very beguiling character. The location shifts and shifts again between Scotland and Melbourne, Australia with a short spell in Spain.
Margaret is not a reliable narrator – she warns us “That’s how it goes with stories: if at first you don’t succeed, lie, lie again.” But I wanted to believe her. But it still comes as a surprise when she reveals an aspect of her family life which has caused everyone to fall off the rails. It is of course the event that prevents her spirit from being at rest – but it feels a little bit like a cheat given that the novel is told in first person and the reveal is put away until late in the book – and readers are really misled about key events in the family. One reviewer writes: “As a narrative strategy, it is daring and very nearly works, but not quite. The fragmented chaos that so beautifully shapes the novel’s structure is part of the reason why. We have experienced, to that point, a turbulent and uncanny story-world. Holding on to story threads has not been our readerly focus, so to revise what we know is not a simple task. Instead of being a surprise, the reversal is, at first, confusing. (Maybe I had it wrong? Better go back and check.)” (https://www.miragenews.com/if-at-firs...)
But I liked Margaret’s voice and her resilience and the ways in which the book unpacks what happens to this family in a very humanistic way. I also liked the fragmented style of the novel and really enjoyed reading it. So I guess I’m going to forgive the reveal.
I loved the imagery, the descriptions focusing on the senses, the music, the colors,... Reading the book listening to the referred songs was a plus for me and contributed to the immersion. I loved Margaret, getting to know her from her childhood to her afterlife/revisiting her life, her journey, her thoughts, her wins and losses, her relationships with family and friends… Rachel is an exquisite character too, her relationships with Gem and the boys, understanding the origin of the stories she invented… It’s a beautiful mourning (but in a way hopeful) story.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I bought this at the book festival bookstore during the Edinburgh International Book Festival -- it was Waterstones's book of the month, and the cashier was very excited to see that I was buying it. Now I see why. It's lovely, sweet -- cozy, even -- tracing a woman's life after her death, little scenes that she watches as a disembodied spirit. Her life wasn't particularly peachy, but that's okay, she doesn't moan about it. But all together, it's more than you think or expect.
The afterlife is a curious thing. Does it exist? Is it real? Are people watching us? Is the idea of the afterlife one to comfort us who are left without our loved ones, or a thought to take with you on your journey to wherever we go when we die? Or like Margaret, have we not worked out how to let go? Margaret is dead. Plain and simple. She dies in 2014, to be exact, and hear dead-life hasn’t really been great for her. She is hanging on to moments across her life, and the lives of those who are still continuing on which she recalls and visits with great clarity. They appear out of order, to relive, and to watch. We get to know Margaret in the afterlife, and also in-life. It seems harder for Margaret to find peace with some moments in life, even after death. This is one book to read to be able to get through what happens, so I will not leave any spoilers. What I will say is that there is more to life than this, and even in death, there seem to be more life in death as well. Such a unique book I devoured in one sitting – find it and read it! Thanks to NetGalley for the gifted copy.
An unexpected delight, I read this book in 2 sittings and I really enjoyed it. The writing is rich, sometimes opulently so, and I felt very drawn to Margaret, the main character. The story spans many decades, covering world events like the Piper Alpha disaster and the Covid-19 pandemic, while all the time keeping family, love, and loss front and centre. Highly recommended.
Wow, actually gut wrenching. Was not expecting the levels of hurt this book made me feel. Loved the retrospective view of life. It was bittersweet and mournful.
I loved this book. So devastating but sweet and funny at times - twist at the end I didn’t see coming but it also made so much sense from all the foreshadowing once it was revealed
This was a strange, meandering sort of book. Maggie is dead, but she is searching her soul, going back through her life. We see Maggie at various stages of her life. She watches herself as a young telephonist in Scotland, finding romance, a married woman with children and visiting her daughter in Australia. She ponders about all sorts of philosophical and historical information as well, such as Mary, Queen of Scots. It's an extremely unusual book which makes you think about our travels through our lives, and what we are doing here. Although written in an ethereal style, Maggie comes from the working-class, so it can be gritty at times.
I recommend this to readers who like unusual novels. I liked Paul Dalgarno's writing, so I'd like to read more of his books.
I received this free ebook from NetGalley in return for an honest review.
3.5 stars. Just finished this one. What a strange and sad book. Didn’t see the twist, If you can call it that (I don’t think it was meant to be a twist just a part of the story) I know that the ending was supposed to be a release of sorts but now I just feel miserable!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Books featuring now-dead narrators aren’t new, Lovely Bones certainly started something. But Dalgarno manages to offer readers something different, something unique; a growing sense of awareness from deceased-Margaret as she’s watching another version of herself and the lives of her loved ones when she's no longer there. It’s poignant and bittersweet and made even more so as Margaret’s sense that - despite having lived through it once - there’s a piece of her life missing.
Dalgarno jumps about in time a lot.. We're offered snippets. Events. Things that obviously have some importance to Margaret. In some ways there is a 'present' woven into the story. An arc - circling 2014 - the time of her death. This does allow readers to be grounded, but the challenge I had with the excerpts from other times - Margaret's childhood, the early years of her marriage, when she first became a mother, the lead up to her death and the years since - is that they were just that. Snapshots. I didn't feel they gave me anything tangible to hold onto. I suspect Dalgarno is trying to do just that - mirror what life must be like, how confusing it might be for Margaret, (or indeed someone looking back on their life and what comes after) to revisit the past.
On one hand I can recognise that it’s a clever ploy and the lack of control there for a reason, but for logic-loving me it meant I didn't engage as much as I would have liked with Margaret and her family. Which would have certainly elevated this to an almost-perfect read.
I certainly agree with this novel being included on the shortlist for The Age Book of the Year Award 2023. Its creative structure and narration, its sensitive recording of the remembered moments that mark a life lived with love, and its portrayal of death and an afterlife each contributed to the beauty of Dalgarno’s text. The most inventive aspect of the novel was the narrator: Margaret Bryce, Henry’s wife, mother of twins Rachel and Eva, grandmother…and deceased: “…two Margarets at once” – Margaret alive and Margaret dead. This characterisation is both heart-warming and heart-breaking as well as, at times, humorous.
Margaret journeys into her past from 1945 through to 2021, marking the significant years of her life: both those that she cherished and those that she would rather have forgotten. The memories are not presented chronologically, perhaps to replicate how one reminisces more haphazardly through one’s life, sometimes reflecting a wish to have blocked what was most difficult to face. Through these scenes, the reader discovers the depth of Margaret’s love and grief and that of her family as she “sink[s] into the land of eternal darkness” away from the “eternal light”.
This is a beautiful novel, written without melodrama, yet exploring the depths of Margaret’s emotions as a woman, as a wife, as a mother, as a friend, as one who must acknowledge the end of her journey. The reader travels through the light and the darkness with her on a most poignant journey.